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+Project Gutenberg's The White Lady of Hazelwood, by Emily Sarah Holt
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The White Lady of Hazelwood
+       A Tale of the Fourteenth Century
+
+Author: Emily Sarah Holt
+
+Illustrator: W. Rainey
+
+Release Date: November 25, 2007 [EBook #23623]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE LADY OF HAZELWOOD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+The White Lady of Hazelwood, by Emily Sarah Holt.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+Her is another of Emily Holt's books set in the middle ages, this time
+at the end of the fourteenth century.  We are kept constantly aware of
+this by the quaint words and expressions the players in the drama are
+always using.  Many of these phrases have dropped out of the language,
+but sometimes the usage is very illuminating, as we can see how we got
+some modern expression or spelling.
+
+On the whole in this story life goes on quite evenly, with not too many
+of those murders that aspiring members of the noblest families of
+England used to perpetrate in those days.
+
+The heroine of the story is the "White Lady", the Countess of Montfort,
+who had fought bravely to bring her son back to power, but who was then
+ignored by him for many years until her death.  For that reason the
+story is very moving.  One part of the story I liked very much was when
+a Mercer, a dealer in rich cloths, is trying to tempt his customers to
+buy his wares.  The variety of his goods, and the prices of them, make
+one realise what a wealthy trade he was engaged in.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+THE WHITE LADY OF HAZELWOOD, BY EMILY SARAH HOLT.
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+On the crowded canvas of the fourteenth century stands out as one of its
+most prominent figures that of the warrior Countess of Montfort.  No
+reader of Froissart's Chronicle can forget the siege of Hennebon, and
+the valiant part she played in the defence of her son's dominions.
+Actuated by more personal motives than the peasant maid, she was
+nevertheless the Joan of Arc of her day, and of Bretagne.
+
+What became of her?
+
+After the restoration of her son, we see no more of that brave and
+tender mother.  She drops into oblivion.  Her work was done.  Those who
+have thought again of her at all have accepted without question the only
+extant answer--the poor response of a contemporary romance, according to
+which she dwelt in peace, and closed an honoured and cherished life in a
+castle in the duchy of her loving and grateful son.
+
+It has been reserved for the present day to find the true reply--to draw
+back the veil from the "bitter close of all," and to show that the
+hardest part of her work began when she laid down her sword, and the
+ending years of her life were the saddest and weariest portion.  Never
+since the days of Lear has such a tale been told of a parent's sacrifice
+and of a child's ingratitude.  In the royal home of the Duke of
+Bretagne, there was no room for her but for whose love and care he would
+have been a homeless fugitive.  The discarded mother was imprisoned in a
+foreign land, and left to die.
+
+Let us hope that as it is supposed in the story, the lonely, broken
+heart turned to a truer love than that of her cherished and cruel son--
+even to His who says "My mother" of all aged women who seek to do the
+will of God, and who will never forsake them that trust in Him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+AT THE PATTY-MAKER'S SHOP.
+
+  "Man wishes to be loved--expects to be so:
+  And yet how few live so as to be loved!"
+
+  Rev  Horatius Bonar, D.D.
+
+It was a warm afternoon in the beginning of July--warm everywhere; and
+particularly so in the house of Master Robert Altham, the patty-maker,
+who lived at the corner of Saint Martin's Lane, where it runs down into
+the Strand.  Shall we look along the Strand? for the time is 1372, five
+hundred years ago, and the Strand was then a very different place from
+the street as we know it now.
+
+In the first place, Trafalgar Square had no being.  Below where it was
+to be in the far future, stood Charing Cross--the real Eleanor Cross of
+Charing, a fine Gothic structure--and four streets converged upon it.
+That to the north-west parted almost directly into the Hay Market and
+Hedge Lane, genuine country roads, in which both the hay and the hedge
+had a real existence.  Southwards ran King Street down to Westminster;
+and northwards stood the large building of the King's Mews, where his
+Majesty's hawks were kept.  Two hundred years later, bluff King Hal
+would turn out the hawks to make room for his horses; but as yet the
+word mews had its proper signification of a place where hawks were mewed
+or confined.  At the corner of the Mews, between it and the
+patty-maker's, ran up Saint Martin's Lane; its western boundary being
+the long blank wall of the Mews, and its eastern a few houses, and then
+Saint Martin's Church.  Along the Strand, eastwards, were stately
+private houses on the right hand, and shops upon the left.  Just below
+the cross, further to the south, was Scotland Yard, the site of the
+ancient Palace of King David of Scotland, and still bearing traces of
+its former grandeur; then came the Priory of Saint Mary Rouncival, the
+town houses of six Bishops, the superb mansion of the Earl of Arundel,
+and the house of the Bishops of Exeter, interspersed with smaller
+dwellings here and there.  A long row of these stretched between Durham
+Place and Worcester Place, behind which, with its face to the river,
+stood the magnificent Palace of the Savoy, the city habitation of John
+of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, eldest surviving son of the reigning King.
+The Strand was far narrower than now, and the two churches, instead of
+being in the middle, broke the monotony of the rows of houses on the
+north side.  Let us look more especially at the long row which ran
+unbroken from the corner of Saint Martin's Lane to the first church,
+that of "our Lady and the holy Innocents atte Stronde."
+
+What would first strike the eye was the signboards, gaily painted, and
+swinging in the summer breeze.  Every house had one, for there were no
+numbers, and these served the purpose; consequently no two similar ones
+must be near each other.  People directed letters to Master Robert
+Altham, "at the Katherine Wheel, by Saint Martin's Church, nigh the
+King's Mews," when they had any to write; but letters, except to people
+in high life or in official positions, were very rare articles, and
+Master Altham had not received a full dozen in all the seven-and-twenty
+years that he had lived in the Strand and made patties.  Next door to
+him was John Arnold, the bookbinder, who displayed a Saracen's head upon
+his signboard; then came in regular order Julian Walton, the mercer,
+with a wheelbarrow; Stephen Fronsard, the girdler, with a cardinal's
+hat; John Silverton, the pelter or furrier, with a star; Peter Swan, the
+Court broiderer, with cross-keys; John Morstowe, the luminer, or
+illuminator of books, with a rose; Lionel de Ferre, the French baker,
+with a vine; Herman Goldsmith, the Court goldsmith, who bore a dolphin;
+William Alberton, the forcermonger, who kept what we should call a fancy
+shop for little boxes, baskets, etcetera, and exhibited a
+_fleur-de-lis_; Michael Ladychapman, who sported a unicorn, and sold
+goloshes; Joel Garlickmonger, at the White Horse, who dealt in the
+fragrant vegetable whence he derived his name; and Theobald atte Home,
+the hatter, who being of a poetical disposition, displayed a landscape
+entitled, as was well understood, the Hart's Bourne.  Beyond these
+stretched far away to the east other shops--those of a mealman, a
+lapidary, a cordwainer--namely, a shoemaker; a lindraper, for they had
+not yet added the syllable which makes it linen; a lorimer, who dealt in
+bits and bridles; a pouchmonger, who sold bags and pockets; a
+parchment-maker; a treaclemonger, a spicer, a chandler, and a pepperer,
+all four the representatives of our modern grocer; an apothecary; a
+scrivener, who wrote for the numerous persons who could not write; a
+fuller, who cleaned clothes; a tapiser, who sold tapestry, universally
+used for hangings of rooms; a barber, an armourer, a spurrier, a
+scourer, a dyer, a glover, a turner, a goldbeater, an upholdester or
+upholsterer, a toothdrawer, a buckler-maker, a fletcher (who feathered
+arrows), a poulter or poulterer, a vinter or wine-merchant, a pewterer,
+a haberdasher, a pinner or pin-maker, a skinner, a hamper-maker, and a
+hosier.  The list might be prolonged through fifty other trades, but we
+have reached Temple Bar.  So few houses between Saint Martin's Lane and
+Temple Bar!  Yes, so few.  Ground was cheap, and houses were low, and it
+cost less to cover much ground than to build high.  Only very exalted
+mansions had three floors, and more than three were unknown even to
+imagination.  Moreover, the citizens of London had decided ideas of the
+garden order.  They did not crush their houses tight together, as if to
+squeeze out another inch, if possible.  Though their streets were
+exceedingly narrow, yet nearly every house had its little garden; and
+behind that row to which we are paying particular attention, ran "le
+Covent Garden," the Abbot of Westminster's private pleasure ground, and
+on its south-east was Auntrous' Garden, bordered by "the King's highway,
+leading from the town of Seint Gylys to Stronde Crosse."  The town of
+Seint Gylys was quite a country place, and as to such remote villages as
+Blumond's Bury or Iseldon, which we call Bloomsbury and Islington,
+nobody thought of them in connection with London, any more than with
+Nottingham or Durham.
+
+The houses were much more picturesque than those of modern build.  There
+was no attempt at uniformity.  Each man set his house down as it suited
+him, and some thatches turned to the east and west, while others fronted
+north and south.  There were few chimneys, except in the larger houses,
+and no shop windows; a large wooden shutter fixed below the window
+covered it at night, and in the day it was let down to hang, tablewise,
+as a counter whereon the goods sold by the owner were displayed.
+
+The Strand was one of the few chief streets where various trades
+congregated together.  Usually every street had its special calling, and
+every trade its own particular street.  Some of the latter retain their
+significant names even yet--Hosier Lane, Cordwainer Street, Bread
+Street, Soper's Lane, the Poultry, Silver Street, Ironmonger's Lane, and
+Paternoster Row, in which last lived the text-writers and rosary-makers.
+The mercers lived mainly in Cheapside, the drapers in Lombard Street
+(they were mostly Italians, as the name shows), the furriers in Saint
+Mary Axe, the fishmongers in Knightriders' Street, the brewers by the
+Thames, the butchers in Eastcheap, and the goldsmiths in Guthrum's (now
+Gutter) Lane.
+
+But it is time to inquire what kind of patties were inviting the
+passer-by on Mr Altham's counter.  They were a very large variety:
+oyster, crab, lobster, anchovy, and all kinds of fish; sausage-rolls,
+jelly, liver, galantine, and every sort of meat; ginger, honey, cream,
+fruit; cheese-cakes, almond and lemon; little open tarts called bry
+tarts, made of literal cheese, with a multitude of other articles--eggs,
+honey or sugar, and spices; and many another compound of multifarious
+and indigestible edibles; for what number of incongruities, palatable or
+sanitary, did our forefathers _not_ put together in a pie!  For one
+description of dainty, however, Mr Altham would have been asked on this
+July afternoon in vain.  He would have deemed it next door to sacrilege
+to heat his oven for a mince pie, outside the charmed period between
+Christmas Eve and Twelfth Day.
+
+On the afternoon in question, Mr Altham stepped out of his door to
+speak with his neighbour the girdler, and no sooner was he well out of
+the way than another person walked into it.  This was a youth of some
+eighteen years, dressed in a very curious costume.  Men did not affect
+black clothes then, except in mourning; and the taste of few led them to
+the sombre browns and decorous greys worn by most now.  This young
+gentleman had on a tunic of dark red, in shape not unlike a butcher's
+blue frock, which was fastened round the hips by a girdle of black
+leather, studded with brass spangles.  His head was covered by a loose
+hood of bright blue, and his hose or stockings--for stockings and
+trousers were in one--were a light, bright shade of apple-green.  Low
+black shoes completed this showy costume, but it was not more showy than
+that of every other man passing along the street.  Our young man seemed
+rather anxious not to be seen, for he cast sundry suspicious glances in
+the direction of the girdler's, and having at length apparently
+satisfied himself that the patty-maker was not likely to return at once,
+he darted across the street, and presented himself at the window of the
+corner shop.  Two girls were sitting behind it, whose ages were twenty
+and seventeen.  These young ladies were scarcely so smart as the
+gentleman.  The elder wore a grey dress striped with black, over which
+was a crimson kirtle or pelisse, with wide sleeves and tight grey ones
+under them; a little green cap sat on her light hair, which was braided
+in two thick masses, one on each side of the face.  The younger wore a
+dress of the same light green as the youth's hose, with a silvery
+girdle, and a blue cap.
+
+"Mistress Alexandra!" said the youth in a loud whisper.
+
+The elder girl took no notice of him.  The younger answered as if she
+had just discovered his existence, though in truth she had seen him
+coming all the time.
+
+"O Clement Winkfield, is that you?  We've no raffyolys [Sausage-rolls]
+left, if that be your lack."
+
+"I thank you, Mistress Ricarda; but I lack nought o' the sort.  Mistress
+Alexandra knoweth full well that I come but to beg a kind word from
+her."
+
+"I've none to spare this even," said the elder, with a toss of her head.
+
+"But you will, sweet heart, when you hear my tidings."
+
+"What now?  Has your mother bought a new kerchief, or the cat catched a
+mouse?"
+
+"Nay, sweet heart, mock me not!  Here be grand doings, whereof my Lord
+talked this morrow at dinner, I being awaiting.  What say you to a
+goodly tournament at the Palace of the Savoy?"
+
+"I dare reckon you fell asleep and dreamed thereof."
+
+"Mistress Alexandra, you'd make a saint for to swear!  Howbeit, if you
+reck not thereof,--I had meant for to practise with my cousin at Arundel
+House, for to get you standing room with the maids yonder; but seeing
+you have no mind thereto--I dare warrant Mistress Joan Silverton shall
+not say me nay, and may be Mistress Argenta--"
+
+"Come within, Clement, and eat a flaune," said Ricarda in a very
+different tone, taking up a dish of cheese-cakes from the counter.
+"When shall the jousting be?"
+
+"Oh, it makes no bones, Mistress Ricarda.  Your sister hath no mind
+thereto, 'tis plain."
+
+However, Clement suffered himself to be persuaded to do what he liked,
+and Ricarda going close to her sister to fetch a plate, whispered to her
+a few words of warning as to what she might lose by too much coldness,
+whereupon the fair Alexandra thawed somewhat, and condescended to seem
+slightly interested in the coming event.  Ricarda, however, continued to
+do most of the talking.
+
+Clement Winkfield was scullion in the Bishop of Durham's kitchen, and
+would have been considered in that day rather a good match for a
+tradesman's daughter; for anything in the form of manufacture or barter
+was then in a very mean social position.  Domestic service stood much
+higher than it does now; and though Mr Altham's daughters were
+heiresses in a small way, they could not afford to despise Clement
+Winkfield, except as a political stratagem.
+
+"And what like shall the jousting be, Clement?" asked Ricarda, when that
+young gentleman had been satisfactorily settled on a form inside the
+shop, with a substantial cheese-cake before him--not a mere mouthful,
+but a large oval tart from which two or three people might be helped.
+
+"It shall be the richest and rarest show was seen this many a day, my
+mistress," replied Clement, having disposed of his first bite.  "In good
+sooth, Mistress, but you wot how to make flaunes!  My Lord hath none
+such on his table."
+
+"That was Saundrina's making," observed Ricarda with apparent
+carelessness.
+
+"Dear heart!  That's wherefore it's so sweet, trow," responded Clement
+gallantly.
+
+Alexandra laughed languidly.  "Come now, Clem, tell us all about the
+jousting, like a good lad as thou art, and win us good places to see the
+same, and I will make thee a chowet-pie [liver-pie] of the best," said
+she, laying aside her affected indifference.
+
+"By my troth, I'll talk till my tongue droppeth on the floor," answered
+the delighted Clement; "and I have heard all of Will Pierpoint, that is
+in my Lord of Arundel his stable, and is thick as incle-weaving with one
+of my Lord of Lancaster his palfreymen.  The knights be each one in a
+doublet of white linen, spangled of silver, having around the sleeves
+and down the face thereof a border of green cloth, whereon is broidered
+the device chosen, wrought about with clouds and vines of golden work.
+The ladies and damsels be likewise in green and white.  For the knights,
+moreover, there be masking visors, fourteen of peacocks' heads, and
+fourteen of maidens' heads, the one sort to tilt against the other.  My
+Lord Duke of Lancaster, that is lord of the revels, beareth a costume of
+white velvet paled with cramoisie [striped with crimson velvet], whereon
+be wrought garters of blue, and the Lady of Cambridge, that is lady of
+the jousts, and shall give the prizes, shall be in Inde-colour [blue],
+all wrought with roses of silver.  There be at this present forty women
+broiderers a-working in the Palace, in such haste they be paid mighty
+high wage--fourpence halfpenny each one by the day."
+
+In order to understand the value of these payments, we must multiply
+them by about sixteen.  The wages of a broideress, according to the
+present worth of money, were, when high, six shillings a day.
+
+"And the device, what is it?"
+
+"Well, I counsel not any man to gainsay it.  `It is as it is'--there you
+have it."
+
+"Truly, a merry saying.  And when shall it be, Clem?"
+
+Mistress Alexandra was quite gracious now.
+
+"Thursday shall be a fortnight, being Saint Maudlin's Day, at ten o' the
+clock in the forenoon.  Will hath passed word to me to get me in, and
+two other with me.  You'll come, my mistresses?  There'll not be room
+for Mistress Amphillis; I'm sorry."
+
+Alexandra tossed her head very contemptuously.
+
+"What does Amphillis want of jousts?" said she.  "She's fit for nought
+save to sift flour and cleanse vessels when we have a-done with them.
+And she hasn't a decent kirtle, never name a hood.  I wouldn't be seen
+in her company for forty shillings."
+
+"Saundrina's been at Father to put her forth," added Ricarda, "if he
+could but hear of some service in the country, where little plenishing
+were asked.  There's no good laying no money out on the like of her."
+
+A soft little sound at the door made them look round.  A girl was
+standing there, of about Clement's age--a pale, quiet-looking girl, who
+seemed nervously afraid of making her presence known, apparently lest
+she should be blamed for being there or anywhere.  Alexandra spoke
+sharply.
+
+"Come within and shut the door, Amphillis, and stare not thus like a
+goose!  What wouldst?"
+
+Amphillis neither came in nor shut the door.  She held it in her hand,
+while she said in a shy way, "The patties are ready to come forth, if
+one of you will come," and then she disappeared, as if frightened of
+staying a minute longer than she could help.
+
+"`Ready to come forth!'" echoed Ricarda.  "Cannot the stupid thing take
+them forth by herself?"
+
+"I bade her not do so," explained her sister, "but call one of us--she
+is so unhandy.  Go thou, Ricarda, or she'll be setting every one wrong
+side up."
+
+Ricarda, with a martyr-like expression--which usually means an
+expression very unlike a martyr's--rose and followed Amphillis.
+Alexandra, thus left alone with Clement, became so extra amiable as to
+set that not over-wise youth on a pinnacle of ecstasy, until she heard
+her father's step, when she dismissed him hastily.
+
+She did not need to have been in a hurry, for the patty-maker was
+stopped before he reached the threshold, by a rather pompous individual
+in white and blue livery.  Liveries were then worn far more commonly
+than now--not by servants only, but by officials of all kinds, and by
+gentlemen retainers of the nobles--sometimes even by nobles themselves.
+To wear a friend's livery was one of the highest compliments that could
+be paid.  Mr Altham knew by a glance at his costume that the man who
+had stopped him bore some office in the household of the Duke of
+Lancaster, since he not only wore that Prince's livery, but bore his
+badge, the ostrich feather ermine, affixed to his left sleeve.
+
+"Master Altham the patty-maker, I take it?"
+
+"He, good my master, and your servant."
+
+"A certain lady would fain wit of you, Master, if you have at this
+present dwelling with you a daughter named Amphillis?"
+
+"I have no daughter of that name.  I have two daughters, whose names be
+Alexandra and Ricarda, that dwell with me; likewise one wedded, named
+Isabel.  I have a niece named Amphillis."
+
+"That dwelleth with you?"
+
+"Ay, she doth at this present, sithence my sister, her mother, is
+departed [dead]; but--"
+
+"You have had some thought of putting her forth, maybe?"
+
+Mr Altham looked doubtful.
+
+"Well! we have talked thereof, I and my maids; but no certain end was
+come to thereabout."
+
+"That is it which the lady has heard.  Mistress Walton the silkwoman, at
+the Wheelbarrow, spake with this lady, saying such a maid there was, for
+whom you sought service; and the lady wotteth [knows] of a gentlewoman
+with whom she might be placed an' she should serve, and the service
+suited your desires for her."
+
+"Pray you, come within, and let us talk thereon at our leisure.  I am
+beholden to Mistress Walton; she knew I had some thoughts thereanent
+[about it], and she hath done me a good turn to name it."
+
+The varlet, as he was then called, followed Mr Altham into the shop.
+Aralet is a contraction of this word.  But varlet, at that date, was a
+term of wide signification, including any type of personal attendant.
+The varlet of a duke would be a gentleman by birth and education, for
+gentlemen were not above serving nobles even in very menial positions.
+People had then, in some respects, "less nonsense about them" than now,
+and could not see that it was any degradation for one man to hand a
+plate to another.
+
+Alexandra rose when the varlet made his appearance.  She did not keep a
+heart, and she did keep a large stock of vanity.  She was consequently
+quite ready to throw over Clement Winkfield as soon as ever a more
+eligible suitor should present himself; and her idea of mankind ranged
+them in two classes--such as were, and such as were not, eligible
+suitors for Alexandra Altham.
+
+Mr Altham, however, led his guest straight through the shop and
+upstairs, thus cutting short Miss Altham's wiles and graces.  He took
+him into what we should call his study, a very little room close to his
+bedchamber, and motioned him to the only chair it contained; for chairs
+were rare and choice things, the form or bench being the usual piece of
+furniture.  Before shutting the door, however, he called--"Phyllis!"
+
+Somebody unseen to the varlet answered the call, and received directions
+in a low voice.  Mr Altham then came in and shut the door.
+
+"I have bidden the maid bring us hypocras and spice," said he; "so you
+shall have a look at her."
+
+Hypocras was a very light wine, served as tea now is in the afternoon,
+and spice was a word which covered all manner of good things--not only
+pepper, sugar, cinnamon, and nutmegs, but rice, almonds, ginger, and
+even gingerbread.
+
+Mr Tynneslowe--for so the varlet was named--sat down in the chair, and
+awaited the tray and Amphillis.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+_The Goldsmith's Daughter_.
+
+  "I can live
+  A life that tells on other lives, and makes
+  This world less full of evil and of pain--
+  A life which, like a pebble dropped at sea,
+  Sends its wide circles to a hundred shores."
+
+  Rev  Horatius Bonar, D.D.
+
+The coming hypocras interested Mr Tynneslowe more than its bearer.  He
+was privately wondering, as he sat awaiting it, whether Mr Altham would
+have any in his cellar that was worth drinking, especially after that of
+his royal master.  His next remark, however, had reference to Amphillis.
+
+"It makes little matter, good Master, that I see the maid," said he.
+"The lady or her waiting-damsels shall judge best of her.  You and I can
+talk over the money matters and such.  I am ill-set to judge of maids:
+they be kittle gear."
+
+"Forsooth, they be so!" assented Mr Altham, with a sigh: for his fair
+and wayward Alexandra had cost him no little care before that summer
+afternoon.  "And to speak truth, Master Tynneslowe, I would not be sorry
+to put the maid forth, for she is somewhat a speckled bird in mine
+house, whereat the rest do peck.  Come within!"
+
+The door of the little chamber opened, and Amphillis appeared carrying a
+tray, whereon was set a leather bottle flanked by two silver cups, a
+silver plate containing cakes, and a little silver-gilt jar with
+preserved ginger.  Glass and china were much too rare and costly
+articles for a tradesman to use, but he who had not at least two or
+three cups and plates of silver in his closet was a very poor man.  Of
+course these, by people in Mr Altham's position, were kept for best,
+the articles commonly used being pewter or wooden plates, and horn cups.
+
+Amphillis louted to the visitor--that is, she dropped what we call a
+charity school-girl's "bob"--and the visitor rose and courtesied in
+reply, for the courtesy was then a gentleman's reverence.  She set down
+the tray, poured out wine for her uncle and his guest into the silver
+cups, handed the cakes and ginger, and then quietly took her departure.
+
+"A sober maid and a seemly, in good sooth," said Mr Tynneslowe, when
+the door was shut.  "Hath she her health reasonable good?  She looks but
+white."
+
+"Ay, good enough," said the patty-maker, who knew that Amphillis was
+sufficiently teased and worried by those lively young ladies, her
+cousins, to make any girl look pale.
+
+"Good.  Well, what wages should content you?"
+
+Mr Altham considered that question with pursed lips and hands in his
+pockets.
+
+"Should you count a mark [13 shillings 4 pence] by the year too much?"
+
+This would come to little over ten pounds a year at present value, and
+seems a very poor salary for a young lady; but it must be remembered
+that she was provided with clothing, as well as food and lodging, and
+that she was altogether free from many expenses which we should reckon
+necessaries--umbrellas and parasols, watches, desks, stamps, and
+stationery.
+
+"Scarce enough, rather," was the unexpected answer.  "Mind you, Master
+Altham, I said a _lady_."
+
+Master Altham looked curious and interested.  We call every woman a lady
+who has either money or education; but in 1372 ranks were more sharply
+defined.  Only the wives and daughters of a prince, peer, or knight were
+termed ladies; the wives of squires and gentlemen were gentlewomen;
+while below that they were simply called wives or maids, according as
+they were married or single.
+
+"This lady, then, shall be--Mercy on us! sure, Master Tynneslowe, you go
+not about to have the maid into the household of my Lady's Grace of
+Cambridge, or the Queen's Grace herself of Castile?"
+
+The Duke of Lancaster having married the heiress of Castile, he and his
+wife were commonly styled King and Queen of Castile.
+
+Mr Tynneslowe laughed.  "Nay, there you fly your hawk at somewhat too
+high game," said he; "nathless [nevertheless], Master Altham, it is a
+lady whom she shall serve, and a lady likewise who shall judge if she be
+meet for the place.  But first shall she be seen of a certain
+gentlewoman of my lady's household, that shall say whether she promise
+fair enough to have her name sent up for judgment.  I reckon three
+nobles [one pound; present value, 6 pounds] by the year shall pay her
+reckoning."
+
+"Truly, I would be glad she had so good place.  And for plenishing, what
+must she have?"
+
+"Store sufficient of raiment is all she need have, and such jewelling as
+it shall please you to bestow on her.  All else shall be found.  The
+gentlewoman shall give her note of all that lacketh, if she be preferred
+to the place."
+
+"And when shall she wait on the said gentlewoman?"
+
+"Next Thursday in the even, at Master Goldsmith's."
+
+"I will send her."
+
+Mr Tynneslowe declined a second helping of hypocras, and took his
+leave.  The patty-maker saw him to the door, and then went back into his
+shop.
+
+"I have news for you, maids," said he.
+
+Ricarda, who was arranging the fresh patties, looked up and stopped her
+proceedings; Alexandra brought her head in from the window.  Amphillis
+only, who sat sewing in the corner, went on with her work as if the news
+were not likely to concern her.
+
+"Phyllis, how shouldst thou like to go forth to serve a lady?"
+
+A bright colour flushed into the pale cheeks.
+
+"I, Uncle?" she said.
+
+"A lady!" cried Alexandra in a much shriller voice, the word which had
+struck her father's ear so lightly being at once noted by her.  "Said
+you a _lady_, Father?  What lady, I pray you?"
+
+"That cannot I say, daughter.  Phyllis, thou art to wait on a certain
+gentlewoman, at Master Goldsmith's, as next Thursday in the even, that
+shall judge if thou shouldst be meet for the place.  Don thee in thy
+best raiment, and mind thy manners."
+
+"May I go withal, Father?" cried Alexandra.
+
+"There was nought said about thee.  Wouldst thou fain be put forth?  I
+never thought of no such a thing.  Maybe it had been better that I had
+spoken for you, my maids."
+
+"I would not go forth to serve a city wife, or such mean gear," said
+Alexandra, contemptuously.  "But in a lady's household I am well assured
+I should become the place better than Phyllis.  Why, she has not a word
+to say for herself,--a poor weak creature that should never--"
+
+"Hush, daughter!  Taunt not thy cousin.  If she be a good maid and
+discreet, she shall be better than fair and foolish."
+
+"Gramercy! cannot a maid be fair and discreet belike?"
+
+"Soothly so.  'Tis pity she is not oftener."
+
+"But may we not go withal, Father?" said Ricarda.
+
+"Belike ye may, my maid.  Bear in mind the gentlewoman looks to see
+Amphillis, not you, and make sure that she wist which is she.  Then I
+see not wherefore ye may not go."
+
+Any one who had lived in Mr Altham's house from that day till the
+Thursday following would certainly have thought that Alexandra, not
+Amphillis, was the girl chosen to go.  The former made far more fuss
+about it, and she was at the same time preparing a new mantle wherein to
+attend the tournament, of which Amphillis was summoned to do all the
+plain and uninteresting parts.  The result of this preoccupation would
+have been very stale pastry on the counter, if her father had not seen
+to that item for himself.  Ricarda was less excited and egotistical, yet
+she talked more than Amphillis.
+
+The Thursday evening came, and the three girls, dressed in their best
+clothes, took their way to the Dolphin.  The Court goldsmith was a more
+select individual than Mr Altham, and did not serve in his own shop,
+unless summoned to a customer of rank.  The young men who were there had
+evidently been prepared for the girls' coming, and showed them upstairs
+with a fire of jokes which Alexandra answered smartly, while Amphillis
+was silent under them.
+
+They were ushered into the private chamber of the goldsmith's daughter,
+who sat at work, and rose to receive them.  She kissed them all, for
+kissing was then the ordinary form of greeting, and people only shook
+hands when they wished to be warmly demonstrative.
+
+"Is the gentlewoman here, Mistress Regina?"
+
+"Sit you down," said Mistress Regina, calmly.  "No, she is not yet come.
+She will not long be.  Which of you three is de maiden dat go shall?"
+
+"That my cousin is," said Alexandra, making fun of the German girl's
+somewhat broken English, though in truth she spoke it fairly for a
+foreigner.  But Amphillis said gently--
+
+"That am I, Mistress Regina; and I take it full kindly of you, that you
+should suffer me to meet this gentlewoman in your chamber."
+
+"So!" was the answer.  "You shall better serve of de three."
+
+Alexandra had no time to deliver the rather pert reply which she was
+preparing, for the door opened, and the young man announced "Mistress
+Chaucer."
+
+Had the girls known that the lady who entered was the wife of a man
+before whose fame that of many a crowned monarch would pale, and whose
+poetry should live upon men's lips when five hundred years had fled,
+they would probably have looked on her with very different eyes.  But
+they knew her only as a Lady of the Bedchamber, first to the deceased
+Queen Philippa, and now to the Queen of Castile, and therefore deserving
+of all possible subservience.  Of her husband they never thought at all.
+The "chiel amang 'em takin' notes" made no impression on them: but five
+centuries have passed since then, and the chiel's notes are sterling yet
+in England.
+
+Mistress Chaucer sat down on the bench, and with quiet but rapid glances
+appraised the three girls.  Then she said to Amphillis--
+
+"Is it thou whom I came to see?"
+
+Amphillis louted, and modestly assented, after which the lady took no
+further notice of the two who were the more anxious to attract her
+attention.
+
+"And what canst thou do?" she said.
+
+"What I am told, Mistress," said Amphillis.
+
+"_Ach_!" murmured Regina; "you den can much do."
+
+"Ay, thou canst do much," quietly repeated Mistress Chaucer.  "Canst
+dress hair?"
+
+Amphillis thought she could.  She might well, for her cousins made her
+their maid, and were not easily pleased mistresses.
+
+"Thou canst cook, I cast no doubt, being bred at a patty-shop?"
+
+"Mistress, I have only dwelt there these six months past.  My father was
+a poor gentleman that died when I was but a babe, and was held to demean
+himself by wedlock with my mother, that was sister unto mine uncle,
+Master Altham.  Mine uncle was so kindly as to take on him the charge of
+breeding me up after my father died, and he set my mother and me in a
+little farm that 'longeth to him in the country: and at after she
+departed likewise, he took me into his house.  I know somewhat of
+cookery, an' it like you, but not to even my good cousins here."
+
+"Oh, Phyllis is a metely fair cook, when she will give her mind
+thereto," said Alexandra with a patronising air, and a little toss of
+her head--a gesture to which that young lady was much addicted.
+
+A very slight look of amusement passed across Mistress Chaucer's face,
+but she did not reply to the remark.
+
+"And thy name?" she asked, still addressing Amphillis.
+
+"Amphillis Neville, and your servant, Mistress."
+
+"Canst hold thy peace when required so to do?"  Amphillis smiled.  "I
+would endeavour myself so to do."
+
+"Canst be patient when provoked of other?"
+
+"With God's grace, Mistress, I so trust."  Alexandra's face wore an
+expression of dismay.  It had never occurred to her that silence and
+patience were qualities required in a bower-maiden, as the maid or
+companion to a lady was then called; for the maid was the companion
+then, and was usually much better educated than now--as education was
+understood at that time.  In Alexandra's eyes the position was simply
+one which gave unbounded facilities for flirting, laughing, and
+giddiness in general.  She began to think that Amphillis was less to be
+envied than she had supposed.
+
+"And thou wouldst endeavour thyself to be meek and buxom [humble and
+submissive] in all things to them that should be set over thee?"
+
+"I would so, my mistress."
+
+"What fashions of needlework canst do?"
+
+"Mistress, I can sew, and work tapestry, and embroider somewhat if the
+pattern be not too busy [elaborate, difficult].  I would be glad to
+learn the same more perfectly."
+
+Mistress Chaucer rose.  "I think thou wilt serve," said she.  "But I can
+but report the same--the deciding lieth not with me.  Mistress Regina, I
+pray you to allow of another to speak with this maid in your chamber
+to-morrow in the even, and this time it shall be the lady that must make
+choice.  Not she that shall be thy mistress, my maid; she dwelleth not
+hereaway, but far hence."
+
+Amphillis cared very little where her future duties were to lie.  She
+was grateful to her uncle, but she could hardly be said to love him; and
+her cousins had behaved to her in such a style, that the sensation
+called forth towards them was a long way from love.  She felt alone in
+the world; and it did not much signify in what part of that lonely place
+she was set down to work.  The only point about which she cared at all
+was, that she was rather glad to hear she was not to stay in London;
+for, like old Earl Douglas, she "would rather hear the lark sing than
+the mouse cheep."
+
+The girls louted to Mistress Chaucer, kissed Regina, and went down into
+the shop, which they found filled with customers, and Master Herman
+himself waiting on them, they being of sufficient consequence for the
+notice of that distinguished gentleman.  On the table set in the midst
+of the shop--which, like most tables at that day, was merely a couple of
+boards laid across trestles--was spread a blue cloth, whereon rested
+various glittering articles--a silver basin, a silver-gilt bottle, a cup
+of gold, and another of a fine shell set in gold, a set of silver
+apostle spoons, so-called because the handle of each represented one of
+the apostles, and another spoon of beryl ornamented with gold; but none
+of them seemed to suit the customers, who were looking for a suitable
+christening gift.
+
+"_Ach_! dey vill not do!" ejaculated Master Herman, spreading out his
+fat fingers and beringed thumbs.  "Then belike we must de jewels try.
+It is a young lady, de shild?  _Gut_! den look you here.  Here is de
+botoner of perry [button-hook of goldsmith's work], and de bottons--
+twelf--wrought wid garters, wid lilies, wid bears, wid leetle bells, or
+wid a reason [motto]--you can haf what reason you like.  Look you here
+again, Madam--de ouches [brooches]--an eagle of gold and enamel, Saint
+George and de dragon, de white hart, de triangle of diamonds; look you
+again, de paternosters [rosaries], dey are _lieblich_! gold and coral,
+gold and pearls, gold and rubies; de rings, sapphire and ruby and
+diamond and smaragdus [emerald]--_ach_!  I have it.  Look you here!"
+
+And from an iron chest, locked with several keys, Master Herman produced
+something wrapped carefully in white satin, and took off the cover as if
+he were handling a baby.
+
+"Dere!" he cried, holding up a golden chaplet, or wreath for the head,
+of ruby flowers and leaves wrought in gold, a large pearl at the base of
+every leaf--"dere!  You shall not see a better sight in all de
+city--_ach_! not in Nuremburg nor Coln.  Dat is what you want--it is
+_schon, schon_! and dirt sheap it is--only von hundert marks.  You take
+it?"
+
+The lady seemed inclined to take it, but the gentleman demurred at the
+hundred marks--66 pounds, 13 shillings and 4 pence, which, reduced to
+modern value, would be nearly eleven hundred pounds; and the girls, who
+had lingered as long as they reasonably could in their passage through
+the attractive shop, were obliged to pass out while the bargain was
+still unconcluded.
+
+"I'd have had that chaplet for myself, if I'd been that lady!" said
+Alexandra as they went forward.  "I'd never have cast that away for a
+christening gift."
+
+"Nay, but her lord would not find the money," answered Ricarda.
+
+"I'd have had it, some way," said her sister.  "It was fair enough for a
+queen.  Amphillis, I do marvel who is the lady thou shalt serve.
+There's ever so much ado ere the matter be settled.  'Tis one grander
+than Mistress Chaucer, trow, thou shalt see to-morrow even."
+
+"Ay, so it seems," was the quiet answer.
+
+"Nathless, I would not change with thee.  I've no such fancy for silence
+and patience.  Good lack! but if a maid can work, and dress hair, and
+the like, what would they of such weary gear as that?"
+
+"Maids be not of much worth without they be discreet," said Amphillis.
+
+"Well, be as discreet as thou wilt; I'll none of it," was the flippant
+reply of her cousin.
+
+The young ladies, however, did not neglect to accompany Amphillis on her
+subsequent visit.  Regina met them at the door.
+
+"She is great lady, dis one, I am sure," said she.  "Pray you, mind your
+respects."
+
+The great lady carried on her conversation in French, which in 1372 was
+the usual language of the English nobles.  Its use was a survival from
+the Norman Conquest, but the Norman-French was very far from pure, being
+derided by the real French, and not seldom by Englishmen themselves.
+Chaucer says of his prioress:--
+
+  "And French she spake full fair and fetously [cleverly],
+  After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bow,
+  For French of Paris was to hire [her] unknow."
+
+This lady, the girls noticed, spoke the French of Paris, and was rather
+less intelligible in consequence.  She put her queries in a short, quick
+style, which a little disconcerted Amphillis; and she had a weary,
+irritated manner.  At last she said shortly--
+
+"Very well!  Consider yourself engaged.  You must set out from London on
+Lammas Day [August 1st], and Mistress Regina here, who is accustomed to
+such matters, will tell you what you need take.  A varlet will come to
+fetch you; take care you are ready.  Be discreet, and do not get into
+any foolish entanglements of any sort."
+
+Amphillis asked only one question--Would the lady be pleased to tell her
+the name and address of her future mistress?
+
+"Your mistress lives in Derbyshire.  You will hear her name on the way."
+
+And with a patronising nod to the girls, and another to Regina, the lady
+left the room.
+
+"Lammas Day!" cried Alexandra, almost before the door was closed.
+"Gramercy, but we can never be a-ready!"
+
+"_Ach! ja_, but you will if you hard work," said Regina.
+
+"And the jousting!" said Ricarda.
+
+"What for the jousting?" asked Regina.  "You are not knights, dat you
+joust?"
+
+"We should have seen it, though: a friend had passed his word to take
+us, that wist how to get us in."
+
+"We'll go yet, never fear!" said her sister.  "Phyllis must work
+double."
+
+"Den she will lose de sight," objected Regina.
+
+"Oh, _she_ won't go!" said Alexandra, contemptuously.  "Much she knows
+about tilting!"
+
+"What! you go, and not your cousin?  I marvel if you about it know more
+dan she.  And to see a pretty sight asks not much knowing."
+
+"I'm not going to slave myself, I can tell you!" replied Alexandra.
+"Phyllis must work.  What else is she good for?"
+
+Regina left the question unanswered.  "Well, you leave Phyllis wid me; I
+have something to say to her--to tell her what she shall take, and how
+she must order herself.  Den she come home and work her share--no more."
+
+The sisters saw that she meant it, and they obeyed, having no desire to
+make an enemy of the wealthy goldsmith's daughter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+WHO CAN SHE BE?
+
+  "O thou child of many prayers!
+  Life hath quicksands--life hath snares."
+
+  Longfellow.
+
+"Now, sit you down on de bench," said Regina, kindly.  "Poor maid! you
+tremble, you are white.  _Ach_! when folks shall do as dey should, dey
+shall not do as dey do no more.  Now we shall have von pleasant talking
+togeder, you and I.  You know de duties of de bower-woman? or I tell dem
+you?"
+
+"Would you tell me, an' it please you?" answered Amphillis, modestly.
+"I do not know much, I dare say."
+
+"_Gut_!  Now, listen.  In de morning, you are ready before your lady
+calls; you keep not her awaiting.  Maybe you sleep in de truckle-bed in
+her chamber; if so, you dress more quieter as mouse, you wake not her
+up.  She wakes, she calls--you hand her garments, you dress her hair.
+If she be wedded lady, you not to her chamber go ere her lord be away.
+Mind you be neat in your dress, and lace you well, and keep your hair
+tidy, wash your face, and your hands and feet, and cut short your nails.
+Every morning you shall your teeth clean.  Take care, take much care
+what you do.  You walk gravely, modestly; you talk low, quiet; you carry
+you sad [Note 1] and becomingly.  Mix water plenty with your wine at
+dinner: you take not much wine, dat should shocking be!  You carve de
+dishes, but you press not nobody to eat--dat is not good manners.  You
+wash hands after your lady, and you look see there be two seats betwixt
+her and you--no nearer you go [Note 2].  You be quiet, quiet! sad, sober
+always--no chatter fast, no scamper, no loud laugh.  You see?"
+
+"I see, and I thank you," said Amphillis.  "I hope I am not a giglot."
+
+"You are not--no, no!  Dere be dat are.  Not you.  Only mind you not so
+become.  Young maids can be too careful never, never!  You lose your
+good name in one hour, but in one year you win it not back."
+
+And Regina's plump round face went very sad, as if she remembered some
+such instance of one who was dear to her.
+
+"_Ach so_!--Well! den if your lady have daughters young, she may dem set
+in your care.  You shall den have good care dey learn courtesy [Note 3],
+and gaze not too much from de window, and keep very quiet in de bower
+[Note 4].  And mind you keep dem--and yourself too--from de mans.  Mans
+is bad!"
+
+Amphillis was able to say, with a clear conscience, that she had no
+hankering after the society of those perilous creatures.
+
+"See you," resumed Regina, with some warmth, "dere is one good man in
+one hundert mans.  No more!  De man you see, shall he be de hundert man,
+or one von de nine and ninety?  What you tink?"
+
+"I think he were more like to be of the ninety and nine," said Amphillis
+with a little laugh.  "But how for the women, Mistress Regina?  Be they
+all good?"
+
+Regina shook her head in a very solemn manner.
+
+"Dere is bad mans," answered she, "and dey is bad: and dere is bad
+womans, and dey is badder; and dere is bad angels, and dey is baddest of
+all.  Look you, you make de sharpest vinegar von de sweetest wine.
+Amphillis, you are good maid, I tink; keep you good!  And dat will say,
+keep you to yourself, and run not after no mans, nor no womans neider.
+You keep your lady's counsel true and well, but you keep no secrets from
+her.  When any say to you, `Amphillis, you tell not your lady,' you say
+to yourself, `I want noting to do wid you; I keep to myself, and I have
+no secrets from my lady.'  Dat is _gut_!"
+
+"Mistress Regina, wot you who is the lady I am to serve?"
+
+"I know noting, no more dan you--no, not de name of de lady you dis
+evening saw.  She came from de Savoy--so much know I, no more."
+
+Amphillis knew that goldsmiths were very often the bankers of their
+customers, and that their houses were a frequent rendezvous for business
+interviews.  It was, therefore, not strange at all that Regina should
+not be further in the confidence of the lady in question.
+
+"Now you shall not tarry no later," said Regina, kissing her.  "You
+serve well your lady, you pray to God, and you keep from de mans.
+Good-night!"
+
+"Your pardon granted, Mistress Regina, but you have not yet told me what
+I need carry withal."
+
+"_Ach so_!  My head gather de wool, as you here say.  Why, you take with
+you raiment enough to begin--dat is all.  Your lady find you gowns
+after, and a saddle to ride, and all dat you need.  Only de raiment to
+begin, and de brains in de head--she shall not find you dat.  Take wid
+you as much of dem as you can get.  Now run--de dark is _gekommen_."
+
+It relieved Amphillis to find that she needed to carry nothing with, her
+except clothes, brains, and prudence.  The first she knew that her uncle
+would supply; for the second, she could only take all she had; and as to
+the last, she must do her best to cultivate it.
+
+Mr Altham, on hearing the report, charged his daughters to see that
+their cousin had every need supplied; and to do those young ladies
+justice, they took fairly about half their share of the work, until the
+day of the tournament, when they declared that nothing on earth should
+make them touch a needle.  Instead of which, they dressed themselves in
+their best, and, escorted by Mr Clement Winkfield, were favoured by
+permission to slip in at the garden door, and to squeeze into a corner
+among the Duke's maids and grooms.
+
+A very grand sight it was.  In the royal stand sat the King, old Edward
+the Third, scarcely yet touched by that pitiful imbecility which
+troubled his closing days; and on his right hand sat the queen of the
+jousts, the young Countess of Cambridge, bride of Prince Edmund, with
+the Duke of Lancaster on her other hand, the Duchess being on the left
+of the King.  All the invited ladies were robed uniformly in green and
+white, the prize-giver herself excepted.  The knights were attired as
+Clement had described them.  I am not about to describe the tournament,
+which, after all, was only a glorified prize-fight, and, therefore,
+suited to days when few gentlemen could read, and no forks were used for
+meals.  We call ourselves civilised now, yet some who consider
+themselves such, seem to entertain a desire to return to barbarism.
+Human nature, in truth, is the same in all ages, and what is called
+culture is only a thin veneer.  Nothing but to be made partaker of the
+Divine nature will implant the heavenly taste.
+
+The knights who were acclaimed victors, or at least the best jousters on
+the field, were led up to the royal stand, and knelt before the queen of
+the jousts, who placed a gold chaplet on the head of the first, and tied
+a silken scarf round the shoulders of the second and third.  Happily, no
+one was killed or even seriously injured--not a very unusual state of
+things.  At a tournament eighteen years later, the Duke of Lancaster's
+son-in-law, the last of the Earls of Pembroke, was left dead upon the
+field.
+
+Alexandra and Ricarda came back very tired, and not in exceptionally
+good tempers, as Amphillis soon found out, since she was invariably a
+sufferer on these occasions.  They declared themselves, the next
+morning, far too weary to put in a single stitch; and occupied
+themselves chiefly in looking out of the window and exchanging airy
+nothings with customers.  But when Clement came in the afternoon with an
+invitation to a dance at his mother's house, their exhausted energies
+rallied surprisingly, and they were quite able to go, though the same
+farce was played over again on the ensuing morning.
+
+By dint of working early and late, Amphillis was just ready on the day
+appointed--small thanks to her cousins, who not only shirked her work,
+but were continually summoning her from it to do theirs.  Mr Altham
+gave his niece some good advice, along with a handsome silver brooch, a
+net of gold tissue for her hair, commonly called a crespine or dovecote,
+and a girdle of black leather, set with bosses of silver-gilt.  These
+were the most valuable articles that had ever yet been in her
+possession, and Amphillis felt herself very rich, though she could have
+dispensed with Ricarda's envious admiration of her treasures, and
+Alexandra's acetous remarks about some people who were always grabbing
+as much as they could get.  In their father's presence these
+observations were omitted, and Mr Altham had but a faint idea of what
+his orphan niece endured at the hands--or rather the tongues--of his
+daughters, who never forgave her for being more gently born than
+themselves.
+
+Lammas Day dawned warm and bright, and after early mass in the Church of
+Saint Mary at Strand--which nobody in those days would have dreamed of
+missing on a saint's day--Amphillis placed herself at an upstairs window
+to watch for her escort.  She had not many minutes to wait, before two
+horses came up the narrow lane from the Savoy Palace, and trotting down
+the Strand, stopped at the patty-maker's door.  After them came a
+baggage-mule, whose back was fitted with a framework intended to sustain
+luggage.
+
+One horse carried a man attired in white linen, and the other bore a
+saddle and pillion, the latter being then the usual means of conveyance
+for a woman.  On the saddle before it sat a middle-aged man in the royal
+livery, which was then white and red.  The man in linen alighted, and
+after a few minutes spent in conversation with Mr Altham, he carried
+out Amphillis's luggage, in two leather trunks, which were strapped one
+on each side of the mule.  As soon as she saw her trunks disappearing,
+Amphillis ran down and took leave of her uncle and cousins.
+
+"Well, my maid, God go with thee!" said Mr Altham.  "Forget not thine
+old uncle and these maids; and if thou be ill-usen, or any trouble hap
+thee, pray the priest of thy parish to write me a line thereanent, and I
+will see what can be done."
+
+"Fare thee well, Phyllis!" said Alexandra, and Ricarda echoed the words.
+
+Mr Altham helped his niece to mount the pillion, seated on which, she
+had to put her arms round the waist of the man in front, and clasp her
+hands together; for without this precaution, she would have been
+unseated in ten minutes.  There was nothing to keep her on, as she sat
+with her left side to the horse's head, and roads in those days were
+rough to an extent of which we, accustomed to macadamised ways, can
+scarcely form an idea now.
+
+And so, pursued for "luck" by an old shoe from Ricarda's hand, Amphillis
+Neville took her leave of London, and rode forth into the wide world to
+seek her fortune.
+
+Passing along the Strand as far as the row of houses ran, at the Strand
+Cross they turned to the left, and threading their way in and out among
+the detached houses and little gardens, they came at last into Holborn,
+and over Holborn Bridge into Smithfield.  Under Holborn Bridge ran the
+Fleet river, pure and limpid, on its way to the silvery Thames; and as
+they emerged from Cock Lane, the stately Priory of Saint Bartholomew
+fronted them a little to the right.  Crossing Smithfield, they turned up
+Long Lane, and thence into Aldersgate Street, and in a few minutes more
+the last houses of London were left behind them.  As they came out into
+the open country, Amphillis was greeted, to her surprise, by a voice she
+knew.
+
+"God be wi' ye, Mistress Amphillis!" said Clement Winkfield, coming up
+and walking for a moment alongside, as the horse mounted the slight
+rising ground.  "Maybe you would take a little farewell token of mine
+hand, just for to mind you when you look on it, that you have friends in
+London that shall think of you by nows and thens."
+
+And Clement held up to Amphillis a little silver box, with a ring
+attached, through which a chain or ribbon could be passed to wear it
+round the neck.  A small red stone was set on one side.
+
+"'Tis a good charm," said he.  "There is therein writ a Scripture, that
+shall bear you safe through all perils of journeying, and an hair of a
+she-bear, that is good against witchcraft; and the carnelian stone
+appeaseth anger.  Trust me, it shall do you no harm to bear it anigh
+you."
+
+Amphillis, though a sensible girl for her time, was not before her time,
+and therefore had full faith in the wonderful virtues of amulets.  She
+accepted the silver box with the entire conviction that she had gained a
+treasure of no small value.  Simple, good-natured Clement lifted his
+cap, and turned back down Aldersgate Street, while Amphillis and her
+escort went on towards Saint Albans.
+
+A few miles they rode in silence, broken now and then by a passing
+remark from the man in linen, chiefly on the deep subject of the hot
+weather, and by the sumpterman's frequent requests that his mule would
+"gee-up," which the perverse quadruped in question showed little
+inclination to do.  At length, as the horse checked its speed to walk up
+a hill, the man in front of Amphillis said--
+
+"Know you where you be journeying, my mistress?"
+
+"Into Derbyshire," she answered.  "Have there all I know."
+
+"But you wot, surely, whom you go to serve?"
+
+"Truly, I wot nothing," she replied, "only that I go to be bower-woman
+to some lady.  The lady that saw me, and bound me thereto, said that I
+might look to learn on the road."
+
+"Dear heart! and is that all they told you?"
+
+"All, my master."
+
+"Words must be costly in those parts," said the man in linen.
+
+"Well," answered the other, drawing out the word in a tone which might
+mean a good deal.  "Words do cost much at times, Master Saint Oly.  They
+have cost men their lives ere now."
+
+"Ay, better men than you or me," replied the other.  "Howbeit, my
+mistress, there is no harm you should know--is there, Master Dugan?--
+that you be bounden for the manor of Hazelwood, some six miles to the
+north of Derby, where dwell Sir Godfrey Foljambe and his dame."
+
+"No harm; so you tarry there at this present," said Master Dugan.
+
+"Ay, I've reached my hostel," was the response.
+
+"Then my Lady Foljambe is she that I must serve?"
+
+The man in linen exchanged a smile with the man in livery.
+
+"You shall see her the first, I cast no doubt, and she shall tell you
+your duties," answered Dugan.
+
+Amphillis sat on the pillion, and meditated on her information as they
+journeyed on.  There was evidently something more to tell, which she was
+not to be told at present.  After wondering for a little while what it
+might be, and deciding that her imagination was not equal to the task
+laid upon it, she gave it up, and allowed herself to enjoy the sweet
+country scents and sounds without apprehension for the future.
+
+For six days they travelled on in this fashion, about twenty miles each
+day, staying every night but one at a wayside inn, where Amphillis was
+always delivered into the care of the landlady, and slept with her
+daughter or niece; once at a private house, the owners of which were
+apparently friends of Mr Dugan.  They baited for the last time at
+Derby, and about two o'clock in the afternoon rode into the village of
+Hazelwood.
+
+It was only natural that Amphillis should feel a little nervous and
+uneasy, in view of her introduction to her new abode and unknown
+companions.  She was not less so on account of the mystery which
+appeared to surround the nameless mistress.  Why did everybody who
+seemed to know anything make such a secret of the affair?
+
+The Manor house of Hazelwood was a pretty and comfortable place enough.
+It stood in a large garden, gay with autumn flowers, and a high
+embattled wall protected it from possible enemies.  The trio rode in
+under an old archway, through a second gate, and then drew up beneath
+the entrance arch, the door being--as is yet sometimes seen in old
+inns--at the side of the arch running beneath the house.  A man in
+livery came forward to take the horses.
+
+"Well, Master Saint Oly," said he; "here you be!"
+
+"I could have told thee that, Sim," was the amused reply.  "Is all well?
+Sir Godfrey at home?"
+
+"Ay to the first question, and No to the second."
+
+"My Lady is in her bower?"
+
+"My Lady's in the privy garden, whither you were best take the damsel to
+her."
+
+Sim led the horses away to the stable, and Saint Oly turned to
+Amphillis.
+
+"Then, if it please you, follow me, my mistress; we were best to go to
+my Lady at once."
+
+Amphillis followed, silent, curious, and a little fluttered.
+
+They passed under the entrance arch inwards, and found themselves in a
+smaller garden than the outer, enclosed on three sides by the house and
+its adjacent outbuildings.  In the midst was a spreading tree, with a
+form underneath it; and in its shade sat a lady and a girl about the age
+of Amphillis.  Another girl was gathering flowers, and an elderly woman
+was coming towards the tree from behind.  Saint Oly conducted Amphillis
+to the lady who sat under the tree.
+
+"Dame," said he, "here, under your good leave, is Mistress Amphillis
+Neville, that is come to you from London town, to serve her you wot of."
+
+This, then, was Lady Foljambe.  Amphillis looked up, and saw a tall,
+handsome, fair-complexioned woman, with a rather grave, not to say
+stern, expression of face.  "Good," said Lady Foljambe.  "You are
+welcome, Mistress Neville.  I trust you can do your duty, and not giggle
+and chatter?"
+
+The girl who sat by certainly giggled on hearing this question, and Lady
+Foljambe extinguished her by a look.
+
+"I will do my best, Dame," replied Amphillis, nervously.
+
+"None can do more," said her Ladyship more graciously.  "Are you aweary
+with your journey?"
+
+"But a little, Dame, I thank you.  Our stage to-day was but short."
+
+"You left your friends well?" was the next condescending query.
+
+"Yes, Dame, I thank you."
+
+Lady Foljambe turned her head.  "Perrote!" she said.
+
+"Dame!" answered the elderly woman.
+
+"Take the damsel up to your Lady's chambers, and tell her what her
+duties will be.--Mistress Neville, one matter above all other must I
+press upon you.  Whatever you see or hear in your Lady's chamber is
+never to come beyond.  You will company with my damsels, Agatha--" with
+a slight move of her head towards the girl at her side--"and Marabel,"--
+indicating by another gesture the one who was gathering flowers.
+"Remember, in your leisure times, when you are talking together, no
+mention of _your_ Lady must ever be made.  If you hear it, rebuke it.
+If you make it, you may not like that which shall follow.  Be wise and
+discreet, and you shall find it for your good.  Chatter and be giddy,
+and you shall find it far otherwise.  Now, follow Mistress Perrote."
+
+Amphillis louted silently, and as silently followed.
+
+The elderly woman, who was tall, slim, and precise-looking, led her into
+the house, and up the stairs.
+
+When two-thirds of them were mounted, she turned to the left along a
+passage, lifted a heavy curtain which concealed its end, and let it drop
+again behind them.  They stood in a small square tower, on a little
+landing which gave access to three doors.  The door on the right hand
+stood ajar; the middle one was closed; but the left was not only closed,
+but locked and barred heavily.  Mistress Perrote led the way into the
+room on the right, a pleasant chamber, which looked out into the larger
+garden.
+
+At the further end of the room stood a large bed of blue camlet, with a
+canopy, worked with fighting griffins in yellow.  A large chest of
+carved oak stood at the foot.  Along the wall ran a settle, or long
+bench, furnished with blue cushions; and over the back was thrown a
+dorsor of black worsted, worked with the figures of David and Goliath,
+in strict fourteenth-century costume.  The fireplace was supplied with
+andirons, a shovel, and a fire-fork, which served the place of a poker.
+A small leaf table hung down by the wall at one end of the settle, and
+over it was fixed a round mirror, so high up as to give little
+encouragement to vanity.  On hooks round the walls were hangings of blue
+tapestry, presenting a black diamond pattern, within a border of red
+roses.
+
+"Will you sit?" said Mistress Perrote, speaking in a voice not exactly
+sharp, but short and staccato, as if she were--what more voluble persons
+often profess to be--unaccustomed to public speaking, and not very
+talkative at any time.  "Your name, I think, is Amphillis Neville?"
+
+Amphillis acknowledged her name.
+
+"You have father and mother?"
+
+"I have nothing in the world," said Amphillis, with a shake of her head,
+"save an uncle and cousins, which dwell in London town."
+
+"Ha!" said Mistress Perrote, in a significant tone.  "That is wherefore
+you were chosen."
+
+"Because I had no kin?" said Amphillis, looking up.
+
+"That, and also that you were counted discreet.  And discreet you had
+need be for this charge."
+
+"What charge?" she asked, blankly.
+
+"You know not?"
+
+"I know nothing.  Nobody would tell me anything."
+
+Mistress Perrote's set features softened a little.
+
+"Poor child!" she said.  "You are young--too young--to be given a charge
+like this.  You will need all your discretion, and more."
+
+Amphillis felt more puzzled than ever.
+
+"You may make a friend of Marabel, if you choose; but beware how you
+trust Agatha.  But remember, as her Ladyship told you, no word that you
+hear, no thing that you see, must be suffered to go forth of these
+chambers.  You may repeat _nothing_!  Can you do this?"
+
+"I will bear it in mind," was the reply.  "But, pray you, if I may ask--
+seeing I know nothing--is this lady that I shall serve an evil woman,
+that you caution me thus?"
+
+"No!" answered Mistress Perrote, emphatically.  "She is a most terribly
+injured--What say I?  Forget my words.  They were not discreet.  Mary,
+Mother! there be times when a woman's heart gets the better of her
+brains.  There be more brains than hearts in this world.  Lay by your
+hood and mantle, child, on one of those hooks, and smooth your hair, and
+repose you until supper-time.  To-morrow you shall see your Lady."
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  Sad, at this time, did not mean sorrowful, but serious.
+
+Note 2.  These are the duties of a bower-woman, laid down in the Books
+of Courtesy at that time.
+
+Note 3.  Then a very expressive word, including both morals and manners.
+
+Note 4.  A private sitting-room for ladies.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+THE WHITE LADY.
+
+  "The future is all dark,
+  And the past a troubled sea,
+  And Memory sits in the heart,
+  Wailing where Hope should be."
+
+Supper was ready in the hall at four o'clock, and Amphillis found
+herself seated next below Agatha, the younger of Lady Foljambe's
+damsels.  It was a feast-day, so that meat was served--a boar's head,
+stewed beef, minced mutton, squirrel, and hedgehog.  The last dainty is
+now restricted to gypsies, and no one eats our little russet friend of
+the bushy tail; but our forefathers indulged in both.  There were also
+roast capons, a heron, and chickens dressed in various ways.  Near
+Amphillis stood a dish of beef jelly, a chowet or liver-pie, a flampoynt
+or pork-pie, and a dish of sops in fennel.  The sweets were Barlee and
+Mon Amy, of which the first was rice cream, and the second a preparation
+of curds and cream.
+
+Amphillis looked with considerable interest along the table, and at her
+opposite neighbours.  Lady Foljambe she recognised at once; and beside
+her sat a younger lady whom she had not seen before.  She applied to her
+neighbour for information.
+
+"She?" said Agatha.  "Oh, she's Mistress Margaret, my Lady's
+daughter-in-law; wife to Master Godfrey, that sits o' t' other side of
+his mother; and that's Master Matthew, o' this side.  The priest's
+Father Jordan--a fat old noodle as ever droned a psalm through his nose.
+Love you mirth and jollity?"
+
+"I scarce know," said Amphillis, hesitatingly.  "I have had so little."
+
+Agatha's face was a sight to see.
+
+"Good lack, but I never reckoned you should be a spoil-sport!" said she,
+licking her spoon as in duty bound before she plunged it in the jelly--a
+piece of etiquette in which young ladies at that date were carefully
+instructed.  The idea of setting a separate spoon to help a dish had not
+dawned upon the mediaeval mind.
+
+"I shall hate you, I can tell you, if you so are.  Things here be like
+going to a funeral all day long--never a bit of music nor dancing, nor
+aught that is jolly.  Mistress Margaret might be eighty, so sad and
+sober is she; and as for my Lady and Mistress Perrote, they are just a
+pair of old jog-trots fit to run together in a quirle [the open car then
+used by ladies, something like a waggonette].  Master Godfrey's all for
+arms and fighting, so he's no better.  Master Matthew's best of the lot,
+but bad's the best when you've a-done.  And he hasn't much chance
+neither, for if he's seen laughing a bit with one of us, my Lady's
+a-down on him as if he'd broke all the Ten Commandments, and whisks him
+off ere you can say Jack Robinson; and if she whip you not, you may
+thank the saints or your stars, which you have a mind.  Oh, 'tis a jolly
+house you've come to, that I can tell you!  I hoped you'd a bit more fun
+in you than Clarice--she wasn't a scrap of good.  But I'm afraid you're
+no better."
+
+"I don't know, really," said Amphillis, feeling rather bewildered by
+Agatha's reckless rattle, and remembering the injunction not to make a
+friend of her.  "I suppose I have come here to do my duty; but I know
+not yet what it shall be."
+
+"I detest doing my duty!" said Agatha, energetically.
+
+"That's a pity, isn't it?" was the reply.
+
+Agatha laughed.
+
+"Come, you can give a quip-word," said she.  "Clarice was just a lump of
+wood, that you could batter nought into,--might as well sit next a post.
+Marabel has some brains, but they're so far in, there's no fetching 'em
+forth.  I declare I shall do somewhat one o' these days that shall shock
+all the neighbourhood, only to make a diversion."
+
+"I don't think I would," responded Amphillis.  "You might find it ran
+the wrong way."
+
+"You'll do," said Agatha, laughing.  "You are not jolly, but you're next
+best to it."
+
+"Whose is that empty place on the form?" asked Amphillis, looking
+across.
+
+"Oh, that's Master Norman's--Sir Godfrey's squire--he's away with him."
+
+And Agatha, without any apparent reason, became suddenly silent.
+
+When supper was over, the girls were called to spin, which they did in
+the large hall, sitting round the fire with the two ladies and Perrote.
+Amphillis, as a newcomer, was excused for that evening; and she sat
+studying her neighbours and surroundings till Mistress Perrote
+pronounced it bed-time.  Then each girl rose and put by her spindle;
+courtesied to the ladies, and wished them each "Good-even," receiving a
+similar greeting; and the three filed out of the inner door after
+Perrote, each possessing herself of a lighted candle as she passed a
+window where they stood.  At the solar landing they parted, Perrote and
+Amphillis turning aside to their own tower, Marabel and Agatha going on
+to the upper floor.  [The solar was an intermediate storey, resembling
+the French _entresol_.]  Amphillis found, as she expected, that she was
+to share the large blue bed and the yellow griffins with Perrote.  The
+latter proved a very silent bedfellow.  Beyond showing Amphillis where
+she was to place her various possessions, she said nothing at all; and
+as soon as she had done this, she left the room, and did not reappear
+for an hour or more.  As Amphillis lay on her pillow, she heard an
+indistinct sound of voices in an adjoining room, and once or twice, as
+she fancied, a key turned in the lock.  At length the voices grew
+fainter, the hoot of the white owl as he flew past the turret window
+scarcely roused her, and Amphillis was asleep--so sound asleep, that
+when Perrote lay down by her side, she never made the discovery.
+
+The next morning dawned on a beautiful summer day.  Perrote roused her
+young companion about four o'clock, with a reminder that if she were
+late it would produce a bad impression upon Lady Foljambe.  When they
+were dressed, Perrote repeated the Rosary, Amphillis making the
+responses, and they went down to the hall.
+
+Breakfast was at this time a luxury not indulged in by every one, and it
+was not served before seven o'clock.  Lady Foljambe patronised it.  At
+that hour it was accordingly spread in the hall, and consisted of
+powdered beef, boiled beef, brawn, a jug of ale, another of wine, and a
+third of milk.  The milk was a condescension to a personal weakness of
+Perrote; everybody else drank wine or ale.
+
+Amphillis was wondering very much, in the private recesses of her mind,
+how it was that no lady appeared whom she could suppose to be her own
+particular mistress; and had she not received such strict charges on the
+subject, she would certainly have asked the question.  As it was, she
+kept silence; but she was gratified when, after breakfast, having been
+bidden to follow Perrote, that worthy woman paused to say, as they
+followed the passage which led to their own turret--
+
+"Now, Amphillis Neville, you shall see your Lady."
+
+She stopped before the locked and barred door opposite to their own,
+unfastened it, and led Amphillis into the carefully-guarded chamber.
+
+The barred room proved to be an exceedingly pleasant one, except that it
+was darker than the other, for it looked into the inner garden, and
+therefore much less sun ever entered it.  A heavy curtain of black
+worsted, whereon were depicted golden vines and recumbent lions,
+stretched across the room, shutting off that end which formed the
+bedchamber.  Within its shelter stood a bed of green silk wrought with
+golden serpents and roses; a small walnut-wood cabinet against the wall;
+two large chests; a chair of carved walnut-wood, upholstered in yellow
+satin; a mirror set in silver; and two very unusual pieces of furniture,
+which in those days they termed folding-chairs, but which we should call
+a shut-up washstand and dressing-table.  The former held an ewer and
+basin of silver-gilt, much grander articles than Amphillis had ever
+seen, except in the goldsmith's shop.  In front of the curtain was a
+bench with green silk cushions, and two small tables, on one of which
+lay some needlework; and by it, in another yellow satin chair, sat the
+solitary inhabitant of the chamber, a lady who appeared to be about
+sixty years of age.  She was dressed in widow's mourning, and in 1372
+that meant pure snowy white, with chin and forehead so covered by barb
+and wimple that only the eyes, nose, and mouth were left visible.  This
+lady's face was almost as white as her robes.  Even her lips seemed
+colourless; and the fixed, weary, hopeless expression was only broken by
+two dark, brilliant, sunken eyes, in which lay a whole volume of unread
+history--eyes that looked as if they could flash with fury, or moisten
+with pity, or grow soft and tender with love; eyes that had done all
+these, long, long ago! so long ago, that they had forgotten how to do
+it.  Sad, tired, sorrowful eyes--eyes out of which all expectation had
+departed; which had nothing left to fear, only because they had nothing
+left to hope.  They were turned now upon Amphillis.
+
+"Your Grace's new chamber-dame," said Mistress Perrote, "in the room of
+Clarice.  Her name is Amphillis Neville."
+
+The faintest shadow of interest passed over the sorrowful eyes.
+
+"Go near," said Perrote to Amphillis, "and kiss her Grace's hand."
+
+Amphillis did as she was told.  The lady, after offering her hand for
+the kiss, turned it and gently lifted the girl's face.
+
+"Dost thou serve God?" she said, in a voice which matched her eyes.
+
+"I hope so, Dame," replied Amphillis.
+
+"I hope nothing," said the mysterious lady.  "It is eight years since I
+knew what hope was.  I have hoped in my time as much as ever woman did.
+But God took away from me one boon after another, till now He hath left
+me desolate.  Be thankful, maid, that thou canst yet hope."
+
+She dropped her hand, and went back to her work with a weary sigh.
+
+"Dame," said Perrote, "your Grace wot that her Ladyship desires not that
+you talk in such strain to the damsels."
+
+The white face changed as Amphillis had thought it could not change, and
+the sunken eyes shot forth fire.
+
+"Her Ladyship!" said the widow.  "Who is Avena Foljambe, that she
+looketh to queen it over Marguerite of Flanders?  They took my lord, and
+I lived through it.  They took my daughter, and I bare it.  They took my
+son, my firstborn, and I was silent, though it brake my heart.  But by
+my troth and faith, they shall not still my soul, nor lay bonds upon my
+tongue when I choose to speak.  Avena Foljambe! the kinswoman of a
+wretched traitor, that met the fate he deserved--why, hath she ten drops
+of good blood in her veins?  And she looks to lord it over a daughter of
+Charlemagne, that hath borne sceptre ere she carried spindle!"
+
+Mistress Perrote's calm even voice checked the flow of angry words.
+
+"Dame, your Grace speaks very sooth [truth].  Yet I beseech you remember
+that my Lady doth present [represent] an higher than herself--the King's
+Grace and no lesser."
+
+The lady in white rose to her feet.
+
+"What mean you, woman?  King Edward of Windsor may be your master and
+hers, but he is not mine!  I owe him no allegiance, nor I never sware
+any."
+
+"Your son hath sworn it, Dame."
+
+The eyes blazed out again.
+
+"My son is a hound!--a craven cur, that licks the hand that lashed
+him!--a poor court fool that thinks it joy enough to carry his bauble,
+and marvel at his motley coat and his silvered buttons!  That he should
+be my son,--and _his_!"
+
+The voice changed so suddenly, that Amphillis could scarcely believe it
+to be the same.  All the passionate fury died out of it, and instead
+came a low soft tone of unutterable pain, loneliness, and regret.  The
+speaker dropped down into her chair, and laying her arm upon the little
+table, hid her face upon it.
+
+"My poor Lady!" said Perrote in tender accents--more tender than
+Amphillis had imagined she could use.
+
+The lady in white lifted her head.
+
+"I was not so weak once," she said.  "There was a time when man said I
+had the courage of a man and the heart of a lion.  Maiden, never man sat
+an horse better than I, and no warrior ever fought that could more ably
+handle sword.  I have mustered armies to the battle ere now; I have
+personally conducted sieges, I have headed sallies on the camp of the
+King of France.  Am I meek pigeon to be kept in a dovecote?  Look around
+thee!  This is my cage.  Ha! the perches are fine wood, sayest thou? the
+seed is good, and the water is clean!  I deny it not.  I say only, it is
+a cage, and I am a royal eagle, that was never made to sit on a perch
+and coo!  The blood of an hundred kings is thrilling all along my veins,
+and must I be silent?  The blood of the sovereigns of France, the
+kingdom of kingdoms,--of the sea-kings of Denmark, of the ancient kings
+of Burgundy, and of the Lombards of the Iron Crown--it is with this mine
+heart is throbbing, and man saith, `Be still!'  How can I be still,
+unless I were still in death?  And man reckoneth I shall be a-paid for
+my lost sword with a needle, and for my broken sceptre he offereth me a
+bodkin!"
+
+With a sudden gesture she brushed all the implements for needlework from
+the little table to the floor.
+
+"There! gather them up, which of you list.  I lack no such babe's gear.
+If I were but now on my Feraunt, with my visor down, clad in armour, as
+I was when I rode forth of Hennebon while the French were busied with
+the assault on the further side of the town,--forth I came with my three
+hundred horse, and we fired the enemy's camp--ah, but we made a goodly
+blaze that day!  I reckon the villages saw it for ten miles around or
+more."
+
+"But your Grace remembereth, we won not back into the town at after,"
+quietly suggested Perrote.
+
+"Well, what so?  Went we not to Brest, and there gathered six hundred
+men, and when we appeared again before Hennebon, the trumpets sounded,
+and the gates were flung open, and we entered in triumph?  Thy memory
+waxeth weak, old woman!  I must refresh it from mine own."
+
+"Please it, your good Grace, I am nigh ten years younger than yourself."
+
+"Then shouldest thou be the more 'shamed to have so much worser a
+memory.  Why, hast forgot all those weeks at Hennebon, that we awaited
+the coming of the English fleet?  Dost not remember how I went down to
+the Council with thyself at mine heels, and the child in mine arms, to
+pray the captains not to yield up the town to the French, and the lither
+loons would not hear me a word?  And then at the last minute, when the
+gates were opened, and the French marching up to take possession,
+mindest thou not how I ran to yon window that giveth toward the sea, and
+there at last, at last! the English fleet was seen, making straight sail
+for us.  Then flung I open the contrary casement toward the street, and
+myself shouted to the people to shut the gates, and man the ramparts,
+and cry, `No surrender!'  Ah, it was a day, that!  Had there been but
+time, I'd never have shouted--I'd have been down myself, and slammed
+that gate on the King of France's nose!  The pity of it that I had no
+wings!  And did I not meet the English Lords and kiss them every one
+[Note 1], and hang their chambers with the richest arras in my coffers?
+And the very next day, Sir Walter Mauny made a sally, and destroyed the
+French battering-ram, and away fled the French King with ours in
+pursuit.  Ha, that was a jolly sight to see!  Old Perrote, hast thou
+forgot it all?"
+
+We are accustomed in the present day to speak of the deliverer of
+Hennebon as Sir Walter Manny.  That his name ought really to be spelt
+and sounded Mauny, is evidenced by a contemporary entry which speaks of
+his daughter as the Lady of Maweny.
+
+Old Perrote had listened quietly, while her mistress poured forth these
+reminiscences in rapid words.  When the long waiting for the English
+fleet was mentioned, a kind of shudder passed over her, as if her
+recollection of that time were painful and distinct enough; but
+otherwise she stood motionless until the concluding question.  Then she
+answered--
+
+"Ay, Dame--no, I would say: I mind it well."
+
+"Thou shouldest!  Then quote not Avena Foljambe to me.  I care not a
+brass nail for Avena Foljambe.  Hand me yonder weary gear.  It is better
+than counting one's fingers, maybe."
+
+Amphillis stooped and gathered up the scattered broidery, glancing at
+Perrote to see if she were doing right.  As she approached her mistress
+to offer them, Perrote whispered, hurriedly, "On the knee, child! on the
+knee!" and Amphillis, blushing for her mistake, dropped on one knee.
+She was hoping that the lady would not be angry--that she could be
+severely so, there could be no doubt--and she was much relieved to see
+her laugh.
+
+"Thou foolish old woman!" she said to Perrote, as she took her work
+back.  Then addressing Amphillis, she added,--"Seest thou, my maid, man
+hath poured away the sparkling wine out of reach of my thirsty lips; and
+this silly old Perrote reckons it of mighty moment that the empty cup be
+left to shine on the buffet.  What matters it if the caged eagle have
+his perch gilded or no?  He would a thousand times liefer sit of a bare
+rock in the sun than of a perch made of gold, and set with emeralds.  So
+man granteth me the gilded perch, to serve me on the knee like a queen,
+and he setteth it with emeralds, to call me Duchess in lieu of Countess,
+and he reckoneth that shall a-pay the caged eagle for her lost liberty,
+and her quenched sunlight, and the grand bare rock on the mountain tops.
+It were good enough for the dove to sit on the pigeon-house, and preen
+her feathers, and coo, and take decorous little flights between the
+dovecote and the ground whereon her corn lieth.  She cares for no more.
+The bare rock would frighten her, and the sun would dazzle her eyes.  So
+man bindeth the eagle by a bond long enough for the dove, and quoth he,
+`Be patient!'  I am not patient.  I am not a silly dove, that I should
+be so.  Chide me not, old woman, to tug at my bond.  I am an eagle."
+
+"Ah, well, Dame!" said Perrote, with a sigh.  "The will of God must
+needs be done."
+
+"I marvel if man's will be alway God's, in sooth.  Folks say, whatever
+happeth, `God's will be done.'  Is everything His will?--the evil things
+no less than the good?  Is it God's will when man speaketh a lie, or
+slayeth his fellow, or robbeth a benighted traveller of all his having?
+Crack me that nut, Perrote."
+
+"Truly, Dame, I am no priest, to solve such matters."
+
+"Then leave thou to chatter glibly anentis God's will.  What wist any
+man thereabout?"
+
+Perrote was silent.
+
+"Open the window!" said the Countess, suddenly.  "I am dying for lack of
+fresh air."
+
+Lifting her hand to her head, she hastily tore off the barb and wimple,
+with little respect to the pins which fastened them, and with the result
+of a long rent in the former.
+
+"That's for one of you to amend," she said, with a short laugh.  "Ye
+should be thankful to have somewhat to do provided for you.  Ay me!"
+
+The words were uttered in a low long moan.
+
+Perrote made no reply to the petulant words and action.  An expression
+of tender pity crossed her face, as she stooped and lifted the torn
+barb, and examined the rent, with as much apparent calmness as if it had
+been damaged in the washing.  There was evidently more in her than she
+suffered to come forth.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  This action, in the estimation of the time, was merely
+equivalent to a cordial shaking of hands between the Countess and her
+deliverers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+NEW AND STRANGE.
+
+  "I stretched mine empty hands for bread,
+  And see, they have given me stones instead!"
+
+  "B.M."
+
+Before anything more could be said, the door opened, and Lady Foljambe
+came in.  She addressed herself at once to Perrote.
+
+"Did I not bid you alway to lock the door when you should enter?  Lo,
+here it is unlocked.  Wherefore have you a key apart from mine, but that
+you should so do?"
+
+"I cry you mercy, Dame," said Perrote, meekly.  "Did you ever this
+before?"
+
+"I mind not well, Dame."
+
+"Well, of a surety!  Call you this guarding a prisoner?  Mind you not
+that which happed at Tickhill, when she 'scaped forth by aid of that
+knight--his name I forget--and had nigh reached the border of the
+liberties ere it was discovered?  Is this your allegiance and duty?
+Dame, I bid you good morrow."
+
+"Better late than never, Avena," said the Countess, a little
+satirically.  "Thou fond thing, there, lie over twenty years betwixt yon
+night at Tickhill and this morrow.  And if the night were back, where is
+the knight?  Nay, Avena Foljambe, I have nought to escape for, now."
+
+"Dame, I must needs say you be rare unbuxom and unthankful."
+
+"Ay, so said the fox to the stork, when he 'plained to be served with
+thin broth."
+
+"Pray you, look but around.  You be lodged fit for any queen, be she the
+greatest in Christendom; you need but speak a wish, and you shall have
+it fulfilled--"
+
+"Namely, thou shalt not put me off with red silk to my broidery when I
+would have blue."
+
+"You eat of the best, and lie of the softest, and speak with whom you
+would--"
+
+"Hold there!"  The fire had come back to the sunken eyes.  "I would
+speak with some that come never anigh me, mine own children, that have
+cast me off, or be kept away from me; they never so much as ask the old
+mother how she doth.  And I slaved and wrought and risked my life for
+them, times out of mind!  And here you keep me, shut up in four walls,--
+never a change from year end to year end; never a voice to say `Mother!'
+or `I love thee;' never a hope to look forward to till death take me!
+No going forth of my cage; even the very air of heaven has to come in to
+me.  And I may choose, may I, whether my bed shall be hung with green or
+blue?  I may speak my pleasure if I would have to my four-hours
+macaroons or gingerbread? and be duly thankful that this liberty and
+these delicates are granted me!  Avena Foljambe, all your folly lieth
+not in your legs."
+
+Lady Foljambe evidently did not appreciate this pun upon her surname.
+
+"Dame!" she said, severely.
+
+"Well?  I can fare forth, if you have not had enough.  What right hath
+your King thus to use me?  I never was his vassal.  I entreated his aid,
+truly, as prince to prince; and had he kept his bond and word, he had
+been the truer man.  I never brake mine, and I had far more need than
+he.  Wherefore played he at see-saw, now aiding me, and now Charles,
+until none of his knights well knew which way he was bent?  I brought
+Charles de Blois to him a prisoner, and he let him go for a heap of
+yellow stuff, and fiddled with him, off and on, till Charles brake his
+pledged word, and lost his life, as he deserved, at Auray.  I desire to
+know what right King Edward had, when I came to visit him after I had
+captured mine enemy, to make _me_ a prisoner, and keep me so, now and
+then suffering me, like a cat with a mouse, to escape just far enough to
+keep within his reach when he list to catch me again.  But not now, for
+eight long years--eight long years!"
+
+"Dame, I cannot remain here to list such language of my sovereign."
+
+"Then don't.  I never asked you.  My tongue is free, at any rate.  You
+can go."
+
+And the Countess turned back to the black satin on which she was
+embroidering a wreath of red and white roses.
+
+"Follow me, Amphillis," said Lady Foljambe, with as much dignity as the
+Countess's onslaught had left her.
+
+She led the way into the opposite chamber, the one shared by Perrote and
+Amphillis.
+
+"It were best, as this hath happed, that you should know quickly who
+this lady is that wotteth not how to govern her tongue.  She is the
+Duchess of Brittany.  Heard you ever her story?"
+
+"Something, Dame, an' it please you; yet not fully told.  I heard, as I
+think, of some quarrel betwixt her and a cousin touching the succession
+to the duchy, and that our King had holpen her, and gave his daughter in
+wedlock to the young Duke her son."
+
+"So did he, in very deed; and yet is she thus unbuxom.  Listen, and you
+shall hear the inwards thereof.  In the year of our Lord 1341 died Duke
+John of Brittany, that was called the Good, and left no child.  Two
+brothers had he--Sir Guy, that was his brother both of father and
+mother, and Sir John, of the father only, that was called Count de
+Montfort.  Sir Guy was then dead, but had left behind him a daughter,
+the Lady Joan, that man called Joan the Halting, by reason she was lame
+of one leg.  Between her and her uncle of Montfort was the war of
+succession--she as daughter of the brother by father and mother, he as
+nearer akin to Duke John, being brother himself.  [Note 1.]  Our King
+took part with the Count de Montfort, and the King of France espoused
+the cause of the Lady Joan."
+
+Lady Foljambe did not think it necessary to add that King Edward's
+policy had been of the most halting character in this matter--at one
+time fighting for Jeanne, and at another for Montfort, until his nobles
+might well have been pardoned, if they found it difficult to remember at
+any given moment on which side their master was.
+
+"Well, the King of France took the Count, and led him away captive to
+Paris his city.  Whereupon this lady, that is now here in ward, what did
+she but took in her arms her young son, that was then a babe of some few
+months old, and into the Council at Rennes she went--which city is the
+chief town of Brittany--and quoth she unto the nobles there assembled,
+`Fair Sirs, be not cast down by the loss of my lord; he was but one man.
+See here his young son, who shall 'present him for you; and trust me,
+we will keep the stranger out of our city as well without him as with
+him.'  Truly, there was not a man to come up to her.  She handled sword
+as well as any marshal of the King's host; no assault could surprise
+her, no disappointment could crush her, nor could any man, however wily,
+take her off her guard.  When she had gone forward to Hennebon--for
+Rennes surrendered ere help could come from our King--man said she rade
+all up and down the town, clad in armour, encouraging the townsmen, and
+moving the women to go up to the ramparts and thence to hurl down on the
+besiegers the stones that they tare up from the paved streets.  Never
+man fought like her!"
+
+"If it please you, Dame, was her lord never set free?" asked Amphillis,
+considerably interested.
+
+"Ay and no," said Lady Foljambe.  "Set free was he never, but he escaped
+out of Louvre [Note 2] in disguise of a pedlar, and so came to England
+to entreat the King's aid; but his Grace was then so busied with foreign
+warfare that little could he do, and the poor Count laid it so to heart
+that he died.  He did but return home to die in his wife's arms."
+
+"Oh, poor lady!" said Amphillis.
+
+"Three years later," said Lady Foljambe, "this lady took prisoner Sir
+Charles de Blois, the husband of the Lady Joan, and brought him to the
+King; also bringing her young son, that was then a lad of six years, and
+was betrothed to the King's daughter, the Lady Mary.  The King ordered
+her residence in the Castle of Tickhill, where she dwelt many years,
+until a matter of two years back, when she was brought hither."
+
+Amphillis felt this account exceedingly unsatisfactory.
+
+"Dame," said she, "if I may have leave to ask at you, wherefore is this
+lady a prisoner?  What hath she done?"
+
+Lady Foljambe's lips took a stern set.  She was apparently not pleased
+with the freedom of the question.
+
+"She was a very troublesome person," said she.  "Nothing could stay her;
+she was ever restless and interfering.  But these be matters too high
+for a young maid such as thou.  Thou wert best keep to thy broidery and
+such-like duties."
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Harvest Home--the sixteenth of August--arrived when Amphillis had been a
+week at Hazelwood.  She had not by any means concluded that process
+which is known as "settling down."  On the contrary, she had never felt
+so unsettled, and the feeling grew rather than diminished.  Even
+Alexandra and Ricarda had tried her less than her present companions, in
+one sense; for they puzzled her less, though they teased her more.  She
+was beginning to understand her mistress, whose mood was usually one of
+weary lack of interest and energy, occasionally broken either by seasons
+of acute sorrow, or by sudden flashes of fiery anger: and the last were
+less trying than the first--indeed, it seemed sometimes to Amphillis
+that they served as a vent and a relief; that for a time after them the
+weariness was a shade less dreary, and the languor scarcely quite so
+overpowering.
+
+Late in the evening, on the night before Harvest Home, Sir Godfrey
+returned home, attended by his squire, Master Norman Hylton.  The
+impression received by Amphillis concerning the master of the house was
+that he was a fitting pendant to his wife--tall, square, and stern.  She
+did not know that Sir Godfrey had been rather wild in his youth, and, as
+some such men do, had become correspondingly severe and precise in his
+old age.  Not that his heart had changed; it was simply that the sins of
+youth had been driven out by the sins of maturer life.  And Satan is
+always willing to let his slaves replace one sin by another, for it
+makes them none the less surely his.  Sir Godfrey suffered under no
+sense of inconsistency in sternly rebuking, when exhibited by Agatha or
+Matthew, slight tendencies to evil of the same types as he had once been
+addicted to himself.  Had he not sown his wild oats, and become a
+reformed character?  The outside of the cup and platter were now so
+beautifully clean, that it never so much as occurred to him to question
+the condition of the inside.  Yet within were some very foul things--
+alienation from God, and hardness of heart, and love of gold, that grew
+upon him year by year.  And he thought himself a most excellent man,
+though he was only a whitewashed sepulchre.  He lifted his head high, as
+he stood in the court of the temple, and effusively thanked God that he
+was not as other men.  An excellent man! said everybody who knew him--
+perhaps a little too particular, and rather severe on the peccadilloes
+of young people.  But when the time came that another Voice pronounced
+final sentence on that whitewashed life, the verdict was scarcely "Well
+done!"
+
+Norman Hylton sat opposite to Amphillis at the supper-table, in the only
+manner in which people could sit opposite to each other at a mediaeval
+table--namely, when it was in the form of a squared horseshoe.  The
+table, which was always one or more boards laid across trestles, was
+very narrow, the inside of the horseshoe being reserved for the servants
+to hand the dishes.  There were therefore some yards of distance between
+opposite neighbours.  Amphillis studied her neighbour, so far as an
+occasional glance in his direction allowed her to do so, and she came to
+the conclusion that there was nothing remarkable about him except the
+expression of his face.  He was neither tall nor short, neither handsome
+nor ugly, neither lively nor morose.  He talked a little with his next
+neighbour, Matthew Foljambe, but there was nothing in the manner of
+either to provoke curiosity as to the subject of their conversation.
+But his expression puzzled Amphillis.  He had dark eyes--like the
+Countess's, she thought; but the weary and sometimes fiery aspect of
+hers was replaced in these by a look of perfect contentment and peace.
+Yet it was utterly different from the self-satisfied expression which
+beamed out of Sir Godfrey's eyes.
+
+"What manner of man is Master Hylton?" she asked of Agatha, who always
+sat next her.  Precedence at table was regulated by strict rules.
+
+"The youngest of six brethren; prithee, trouble not thine head over
+him," was that young lady's answer.
+
+"But that doth me not to wit what manner of man he is," responded
+Amphillis, turning to the sewer or waiter, who was offering her some
+rissoles of lamb.
+
+Agatha indulged in a little explosion of laughter under cover of her
+handkerchief.
+
+"Oh, Amphillis, where hast thou dwelt all thy life?  Thou art the full
+seliest [simplest, most unconventional] maid ever I did see."
+
+Amphillis replied literally.  "Why, in Hertfordshire was I born, but I
+dwelt in London town a while ere I came hither."
+
+"A jolly townswoman must thou have made!  Canst not conceive what I
+mean?  Why, the youngest of six brethren hath all his fortune to make,
+and cannot be no catch at all for a maid, without he be full high of
+rank, and she have gold enough to serve her turn without."
+
+"But I don't want to catch him," said Amphillis, innocently.
+
+Agatha burst out laughing, and Lady Foljambe, from the middle of the
+horseshoe table, looked daggers at her.  Unrestrained laughter at table,
+especially in a girl, was a serious breach of etiquette.
+
+"I say, you shouldn't be so funny!" remonstrated Agatha.  "How shall man
+help to laugh if you say so comical words?"
+
+"I wist not I was thus comical," said Amphillis.  "But truly I conceive
+you not.  Wherefore should I catch Master Hylton, and wherewith, and to
+what end?"
+
+"Amphillis, you shall be the death of me!  My Lady shall snap off my
+head at after supper, and the maid is not born that could help to laugh
+at you.  To what end?  Why, for an husband, child!  As to wherewith,
+that I leave to thee."  And Agatha concluded with another stifled
+giggle.
+
+"Agatha!" was all that the indignant Amphillis could say in answer.  She
+could hardly have told whether she felt more vexed or astonished.  The
+bare idea of such a thing, evidently quite familiar to Agatha, was
+utterly new to her.  "You never, surely, signify that any decent maid
+could set herself to seek a man for an husband, like an angler with
+fish?"
+
+"They must be uncommon queer folks in Hertfordshire if thou art a sample
+thereof," was the reply.  "Why, for sure, I so signified.  Thou must
+have been bred up in a convent, Phyllis, or else tied to thy
+grandmother's apron-string all thy life.  Shall a maid ne'er have a bit
+of fun, quotha?"
+
+Amphillis made no answer, but finished her rissoles in silence, and
+helped herself to a small pound-cake.
+
+"Verily, some folks be born as old as their grandmothers," said Agatha,
+accepting a fieldfare from the sewer, and squeezing a lemon over it.  "I
+would fain enjoy my youth, though I'm little like to do it whilst here I
+am.  Howbeit, it were sheer waste of stuff for any maid to set her heart
+on Master Norman; he wist not how to discourse with maids.  He should
+have been a monk, in very sooth, for he is fit for nought no better.
+There isn't a sparkle about him."
+
+"He looks satisfied," said Amphillis, rather wistfully.  She was wishing
+that she felt so.
+
+Agatha's answer was a puzzled stare, first at Amphillis, and then at Mr
+Hylton.
+
+"`Satisfied!'" she repeated, as if she wondered what the word could
+mean.  "Aren't we all satisfied?"
+
+"Maybe you are," replied Amphillis, "though I reckon I have heard you
+say what looked otherwise.  You would fain have more life and jollity,
+if I err not."
+
+"Truly, therein you err not in no wise," answered Agatha, laughing
+again, though in a more subdued manner than before.  "I never loved to
+dwell in a nunnery, and this house is little better.  `Satisfied!'" she
+said again, as though the word perplexed her.  "I never thought of no
+such a thing.  Doth Master Norman look satisfied?  What hath satisfied
+him, trow?"
+
+"That is it I would fain know," said Amphillis.
+
+"In good sooth, I see not how it may be," resumed Agatha.  "He has never
+a penny to his patrimony.  I heard him to say once to Master Godfrey
+that all he had of his father was horse, and arms, and raiment.  Nor
+hath he any childless old uncle, or such, that might take to him, and
+make his fortune.  He lives of his wits, belike.  Now, I am an only
+daughter, and have never a brother to come betwixt me and the
+inheritance; I shall have a pretty penny when my father dies.  So I have
+some right to be jolly.  Ay, and jolly I'll be when I am mine own
+mistress, I warrant you!  I've no mother, so there is none to oversee
+me, and rule me, and pluck me by the sleeve when I would go hither and
+thither, so soon as I can be quit of my Lady yonder.  Oh, there's a
+jolly life afore _me_."
+
+It was Amphillis's turn to be astonished.
+
+"Dear heart!" she said.  "Why, I have no kindred nearer than uncle and
+cousins, but I have ever reckoned it a sore trouble to lose my mother,
+and no blessing."
+
+"Very like it was to you!" said Agatha.  "You'd make no bones if you
+were ruled like an antiphonarium [music-book for anthems and chants],
+I'll be bound, I'm none so fond of being driven in harness.  I love my
+own way, and I'll have it, too, one of these days."
+
+"But then you have none to love you!  That is one of the worst sorrows
+in the world, I take it."
+
+"Love! bless you, I shall have lovers enough!  I've three hundred a year
+to my fortune."
+
+Three hundred pounds in 1372 was equal to nearly five thousand now.
+
+"But what good should it do you that people wanted your money?" asked
+Amphillis.  "That isn't loving _you_."
+
+"Amphillis, I do believe you were born a hundred years old! or else in
+some other world, where their notions are quite diverse from this," said
+Agatha, taking a candied orange from the sewer.  "I never heard such
+things as you say."
+
+"But lovers who only want your money seem to me very unsatisfying
+folks," replied Amphillis.  "Will they smooth your pillows when you are
+sick? or comfort you when your heart is woeful?"
+
+"I don't mean my heart to be woeful, and as to pillows, there be
+thousands will smooth them for wages."
+
+"They are smoother when 'tis done for love," was the answer.
+
+Agatha devoted herself to her orange, and in a few minutes Lady Foljambe
+gave the signal to rise from table.  The young ladies followed her to
+her private sitting-room, where Agatha received a stern reprimand for
+the crime of laughing too loud, and was told she was no better than a
+silly giglot, who would probably bring herself some day to dire
+disgrace.  Lady Foljambe then motioned her to the spindle, and desired
+her not to leave it till the bell rang for evening prayers in the
+chapel, just before bed-time.  Agatha pulled a face behind Lady
+Foljambe's back, but she did not dare to disobey.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  It seems very strange to us that the Count de Montfort should
+have imagined himself to have a better claim to the crown than his
+niece; but the principle under which he claimed was the law of
+non-representation, which forbade the child of a deceased son or brother
+to inherit; and this, little as it is now allowed or even understood,
+was not only the custom of some Continental states, but was the law of
+succession in England, itself until 1377.  The struggle between Stephen
+and the Empress Maud, and that between King John and his nephew Arthur,
+were fought upon this principle.
+
+Note 2.  The Louvre, then considered _near_ Paris, was usually mentioned
+without the article.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+A THANKLESS CHILD.
+
+  "We will not come to Thee
+  Till Thou hast nailed us to some bitter cross
+  And made us look on Thee."
+
+  "B.M."
+
+Amphillis took her own spindle, and sat down beside Marabel, who was
+just beginning to spin.
+
+"What was it so diverted Agatha at supper?" inquired Marabel.
+
+"She laughs full easily," answered Amphillis; and told her what had been
+the subject of discourse.
+
+"She is a light-minded maid," said Marabel.  "So you thought Master
+Norman had a satisfied look, trow?  Well, I count you had the right."
+
+"Agatha said she knew not of nought in this world that should satisfy
+him."
+
+Marabel smiled.  "I misdoubt if that which satisfieth him ever came out
+of this world.  Amphillis, whenas you dwelt in London town, heard you at
+all preach one of the poor priests?"
+
+"What manner of folks be they?"
+
+"You shall know them by their raiment, for they mostly go clad of a
+frieze coat, bound by a girdle of unwrought leather."
+
+"Oh, ay?  I heard once a friar so clad; and I marvelled much to what
+Order he belonged.  But it was some while gone."
+
+"What said he?"
+
+"Truly, that cannot I tell you, for I took not but little note.  I was
+but a maidling, scarce past my childhood.  My mother was well pleased
+therewith.  I mind her to have said, divers times, when she lay of her
+last sickness, that she would fain have shriven her of the friar in the
+frieze habit.  Wherefore, cannot I say."
+
+"Then perchance I can say it for you:--for I reckon it was because he
+brought her gladder tidings than she had heard of other."
+
+Amphillis looked surprised.  "Why, whatso?  Sermons be all alike, so far
+as ever I could tell."
+
+"Be they so?  No, verily, Amphillis.  Is there no difference betwixt
+preaching of the law--`Do this, and thou shalt live,' and preaching of
+the glad gospel of the grace of God--`I give unto them everlasting
+life?'"
+
+"But we must merit Heaven!" exclaimed Amphillis.
+
+"Our Lord, then, paid not the full price, but left at the least a few
+marks over for us to pay?  Nay, He bought Heaven for us, Amphillis: and
+only He could do it.  We have nothing to pay; and if we had, how should
+our poor hands reach to such a purchase as that?  It took God to save
+the world.  Ay, and it took God, too, to love the world enough to save
+it."
+
+"Why, but if so be, we are saved--not shall be."
+
+"We are, if we ever shall be."
+
+"But is that true Catholic doctrine?"
+
+"It is the true doctrine of God's love.  Either, therefore, it is
+Catholic doctrine, or Catholic doctrine hath erred from it."
+
+"But the Church cannot err!"
+
+"Truth, so long as she keep her true to God's law.  The Church is men,
+not God! and God must be above the Church.  But what is the Church?  Is
+it this priest or that bishop?  Nay, verily; it is the congregation of
+all the faithful elect that follow Christ, and do after His
+commandments.  So long, therefore, as they do after His commands, and
+follow Him, they be little like to err.  `He that believeth in the Son
+_hath_ everlasting life.'"
+
+"But we all believe in our Lord!" said Amphillis, feeling as if so many
+new ideas had never entered her head all at once before.
+
+"Believe what?" said Marabel, and she smiled.
+
+"Why, we believe that He came down from Heaven, and died, and rose
+again, and ascended, and such-like."
+
+"Wherefore?"
+
+"Wherefore came He?  Truly, that know I not.  By reason that it liked
+Him, I count."
+
+"Ay, that was the cause," said Marabel, softly.  "He came because--shall
+we say?--He so loved Amphillis Neville, that He could not do without her
+in Heaven: and as she could win there none other way than by the laying
+down of His life, He came and laid it down."
+
+"Marabel!  Never heard I none to speak after this manner!  Soothly, our
+Lord died for us: but--"
+
+"But--yet was it not rightly for us, thee and me, but for some folks a
+long way off, we cannot well say whom?"
+
+Amphillis span and thought--span fast, because she was thinking hard:
+and Marabel did not interrupt her thoughts.
+
+"But--we must merit it!" she urged again at last.
+
+"Dost thou commonly merit the gifts given thee?  When man meriteth that
+he receiveth--when he doth somewhat, to obtain it--it is a wage, not a
+gift.  The very life and soul of a gift is that it is not merited, but
+given of free favour, of friendship or love."
+
+"I never heard no such doctrine!"
+
+Marabel only smiled.
+
+"Followeth my Lady this manner?"
+
+"A little in the head, maybe; for the heart will I not speak."
+
+"And my La--I would say, Mistress Perrote?"  Amphillis suddenly
+recollected that her mistress was never to be mentioned.
+
+"Ask at her," said Marabel, with a smile.
+
+"Then Master Norman is of this fashion of thinking?"
+
+"Ay.  So be the Hyltons all."
+
+"Whence gat you the same?"
+
+"It was learned me of my Lady Molyneux of Sefton, that I served as
+chamberer ere I came hither.  I marvel somewhat, Amphillis, that thou
+hast never heard the same, and a Neville.  All the Nevilles of Raby be
+of our learning--well-nigh."
+
+"Dear heart, but I'm no Neville of Raby!" cried Amphillis, with a laugh
+at the extravagance of the idea.  "At the least, I know not well whence
+my father came; his name was Walter Neville, and his father was Ralph,
+and more knew I never.  He bare arms, 'tis true--gules, a saltire
+argent; and his device, `_Ne vile velis_.'"
+
+"The self arms of the Nevilles of Raby," said Marabel, with an amused
+smile.  "I marvel, Amphillis, thou art not better learned in thine own
+family matters."
+
+"Soothly.  I never had none to learn me, saving my mother; and though
+she would tell me oft of my father himself, how good and true man he
+were, yet she never seemed to list to speak much of his house.  Maybe it
+was by reason he came below his rank in wedding her, and his kin refused
+to acknowledge her amongst them.  Thus, see you, I dropped down, as man
+should say, into my mother's rank, and never had no chance to learn
+nought of my father's matters."
+
+"Did thine uncle learn thee nought, then?"
+
+"He learned me how to make patties of divers fashions," answered
+Amphillis, laughing.  "He was very good to me, and belike to my mother,
+his sister; but I went not to dwell with him until after she was
+departed to God.  And then I was so slender [insignificant] a country
+maid, with no fortune, ne parts [talents], that my cousins did somewhat
+slight me, and keep me out of sight.  So never met I any that should be
+like to wise me in this matter.  And, the sooth to say, but I would not
+desire to dwell amongst kin that had set my mother aside, and reckoned
+her not fit to company with them, not for no wickedness nor unseemly
+dealing, but only that she came of a trading stock.  It seemeth me, had
+such wist our blessed Lord Himself, they should have bidden Him stand
+aside, for He was but a carpenter's son.  That's the evil of being in
+high place, trow."
+
+"Ah, no, dear heart!  It hath none ado with place, high or low.  'Tis
+human nature.  Thou shalt find a duchess more ready to company with a
+squire's wife, oft-times, than the squire's wife with the bailiff's
+wife, and there is a deal further distance betwixt.  It hangeth on the
+heart, not on the station."
+
+"But folks' hearts should be the better according to their station."
+
+Marabel laughed.  "That were new world, verily.  The grace of God is the
+same in every station, and the like be the wiles of Satan--not that he
+bringeth to all the same temptation, for he hath more wit than so; but
+he tempteth all, high and low.  The high have the fairer look-out, yet
+the more perilous place; the low have the less to content them, yet are
+they safer.  Things be more evenly parted in this world than many think.
+Many times he that hath rich food, hath little appetite for it; and he
+that hath his appetite sharp, can scarce get food to satisfy it."
+
+"But then things fit not," said Amphillis.
+
+"Soothly, nay.  This world is thrown all out of gear by sin.  Things
+fitted in Eden, be thou sure.  Another reason is there also--that he
+which hath the food may bestow it on him that can relish it, and hath it
+not."
+
+The chapel bell tolled softly for the last service of the day, and the
+whole household assembled.  Every day this was done at Hazelwood, for
+prime, sext, and compline, at six a.m., noon, and seven p.m.
+respectively, and any member of the household found missing would have
+been required to render an exceedingly good reason for it.  The services
+were very short, and a sermon was a scarcely imagined performance.
+After compline came bed-time.  Each girl took her lamp, louted to Lady
+Foljambe and kissed her hand, and they then filed upstairs to bed after
+Perrote, she and Amphillis going to their own turret.
+
+Hitherto Perrote had been an extremely silent person.  Not one word
+unnecessary to the work in hand had she ever uttered, since those few on
+Amphillis's first arrival.  It was therefore with some little surprise
+that the girl heard her voice, as she stood that evening brushing her
+hair before the mirror.
+
+"Amphillis, who chose you to come hither?"
+
+"Truly, Mistress, that wis I not.  Only, first of all, Mistress Chaucer,
+of the Savoy Palace, looked me o'er to see if I should be meet for
+taking into account, and then came a lady thence, and asked at me divers
+questions, and judged that I should serve; but who she was I knew not.
+She bade me be well ware that I gat me in no entanglements of no sort,"
+said Amphillis, laughing a little; "but in good sooth, I see here
+nothing to entangle me in."
+
+"She gave thee good counsel therein.  There be tangles of divers sorts,
+my maid, and those which cut the tightest be not alway the worst.  Thou
+mayest tangle thy feet of soft wool, or rich silk, no less than of rough
+cord.  Ah me! there be tangles here, Amphillis, and hard to undo.  There
+were skilwise fingers to their tying--hard fingers, that thought only to
+pull them tight, and harried them little touching the trouble of such as
+should be thus tethered.  And there be knots that no man can undo--only
+God.  Why tarry the wheels of His chariot?"
+
+Amphillis turned round from the mirror.
+
+"Mistress Perrote, may I ask a thing at you?"
+
+"Ask, my maid."
+
+"My Lady answered me not; will you?  What hath our Lady done to be thus
+shut close in prison?"
+
+"_She_ done?" was the answer, with a piteous intonation.  Perrote looked
+earnestly into the girl's face.  "Amphillis, canst thou keep a secret?"
+
+"If I know myself, I can well."
+
+"Wilt thou so do, for the love of God and thy Lady?  It should harm her,
+if men knew thou wist it.  And, God wot, she hath harm enough."
+
+"I will never speak word, Mistress Perrote, to any other than you,
+without you bid me, or grant me leave."
+
+"So shall thou do well.  Guess, Amphillis, who is it that keepeth this
+poor lady in such durance."
+
+"Nay, that I cannot, without it be our Lord the King."
+
+"He, surely; yet is he but the gaoler.  There is another beyond him, at
+whose earnest entreaty, and for whose pleasure he so doth.  Who is it,
+thinkest?"
+
+"It seemeth me, Mistress, looking to what you say, this poor lady must
+needs have some enemy," said Amphillis.
+
+"Amphillis, that worst enemy, the enemy that bindeth these fetters upon
+her, that bars these gates against her going forth, that hath quenched
+all the sunlight of her life, and hushed all the music out of it--this
+enemy is her own son, that she nursed at her bosom--the boy for whose
+life she risked hers an hundred times, whose patrimony she only saved to
+him, whose welfare through thirty years hath been dearer to her than her
+own.  Dost thou marvel if her words be bitter, and if her eyes be
+sorrowful?  Could they be aught else?"
+
+Amphillis looked as horrified as she felt.
+
+"Mistress Perrote, it is dreadful!  Can my said Lord Duke be Christian
+man?"
+
+"Christian!" echoed Perrote, bitterly.  "Dear heart, ay! one of the best
+Catholics alive!  Hath he not built churches with the moneys of his
+mother's dower, and endowed convents with the wealth whereof he
+defrauded her?  What could man do better?  A church is a great matter,
+and a mother a full little one.  Mothers die, but churches and convents
+endure.  Ah, when such mothers die and go to God, be there no words writ
+on the account their sons shall thereafter render?  Is He all silent
+that denounced the Jewish priests for their Corban, by reason they
+allowed man to deny to his father and mother that which he had devote to
+God's temple?  Is His temple built well of broken hearts, and His altar
+meetly covered with the rich tracery of women's tears?  `The hope of the
+hypocrite shall perish, when God taketh away his soul.'"
+
+Never before had Amphillis seen any one change as Perrote had changed
+now.  The quiet, stolid-looking woman had become an inspired prophetess.
+It was manifest that she dearly loved her mistress, and was
+proportionately indignant with the son who treated her so cruelly.
+
+"Child," she said to Amphillis, "she lived for nought save that boy!
+Her daughter was scarce anything to her; it was alway the lad, the lad!
+And thus the lad a-payeth her for all her love and sacrifice--for the
+heart that stood betwixt him and evil, for the gold and jewels that she
+thought too mean to be set in comparison with him, for the weary arms
+that bare him, and the tired feet that carried him about, a little
+wailing babe--for the toil and the labour, the hope and the fear, the
+waiting and the sorrow!  Ay, but I marvel in what manner of coin God our
+Father shall pay him!"
+
+"But wherefore doth he so?" cried Amphillis.
+
+"She was in his way," replied Perrote, in a tone of constrained
+bitterness.  "He could not have all his will for her.  He desired to
+make bargains, and issue mandates, and reign at his pleasure, and she
+told him the bargains were unprofitable, and the mandates unjust, and it
+was not agreeable.  'Twas full awkward and ill-convenient, look you, to
+have an old mother interfering with man's pleasure.  He would, have set
+her in a fair palace, and given her due dower, I reckon, would she but
+there have tarried, like a slug on a cabbage-leaf, and let him alone;
+and she would not.  How could she?  She was not a slug, but an eagle.
+And 'tis not the nature of an eagle to hang hour after hour upon a
+cabbage-leaf.  So, as King Edward had at the first kept her in durance
+for his own ends, my gracious Lord Duke did entreat him to continue the
+same on his account.  As for my Lady Duchess, I say not; I know her not.
+This only I know, that my Lady Foljambe is her kinswoman.  And, most
+times, there is a woman at the bottom of all evil mischief.  Ay, there
+is so!"
+
+"Mistress Perrote, it seemeth me this is worser world than I wist ere I
+came hither."
+
+"Art avised o' that?  Ay, Phyllis, thou shalt find it so; and the
+further thou journeyest therein, the worser shalt thou find it."
+
+"Mistress, wherefore is it that this poor lady of ours is kept so
+secret?  It seemeth as though man would have none know where she were."
+
+"_Ha, chetife_!  [Oh, miserable!]  I can but avise thee to ask so much
+at them that do keep her."
+
+"Shall she never be suffered to come forth?"
+
+"Ay," said Perrote, slowly and solemnly.  "She shall come forth one day.
+But I misdoubt if it shall be ere the King come Himself for her."
+
+"The King!  Shall his Grace come hither?" inquired Amphillis, with much
+interest.  She thought of no king but Edward the Third.
+
+Perrote's eyes were uplifted towards the stars.  She spoke as if she
+were answering them rather than Amphillis.
+
+"He shall deem [judge] the poor men of the people, and He shall make
+safe the sons of poor men; and He shall make low the false challenger.
+And He shall dwell with the sun, and before the moon, in generation and
+in to generation...  And He shall be Lord from the sea till to the sea,
+and from the flood till to the ending of the world...  For He shall
+deliver a poor man from the mighty, and a poor man to whom was none
+helper.  He shall spare a poor man and needy, and He shall make safe the
+souls of poor men...  Blessed be the name of His majesty withouten end!
+and all earth shall be filled with His majesty.  Be it done, be it
+done!"  [Note 1.]
+
+Amphillis almost held her breath as she listened, for the first time in
+her life, to the grand roll of those sonorous verses.
+
+"That were a King!" she said.
+
+"That shall be a King," answered Perrote, softly.  "Not yet is His
+kingdom of this world.  But He is King of Israel, and King of kings, and
+King of the everlasting ages; and the day cometh when He shall be King
+of nations, when there shall be one Lord over all the earth, and His
+Name one.  Is He thy King, Amphillis Neville?"
+
+"Signify you our blessed Lord, Mistress Perrote?"
+
+"Surely, my maid.  Could any other answer thereto?"
+
+"I reckon so," said Amphillis, calmly, as she put away her brush, and
+began undressing.
+
+"I would make sure, if I were thou.  For the subjects be like to dwell
+in the Court when they be preferred to higher place.  `Ye ben servantis
+to that thing to which ye han obeisched.'  [Note 2.]  Whose servant art
+thou?  Who reigns in thine inner soul, Phyllis?"
+
+"Soothly, Mistress, I myself.  None other, I ween."
+
+"Nay, one other must there needs be.  Thou obeyest the rule of one of
+two masters--either Christ our Lord, or Satan His enemy."
+
+"In very deed, Mistress, I serve God."
+
+"Then thou art concerned to please God in everything.  Or is it rather,
+that thou art willing to please God in such matters as shall not
+displease Amphillis Neville?"
+
+Amphillis folded up sundry new and not altogether agreeable thoughts in
+the garments which she was taking off and laying in neat order on the
+top of her chest for the morning.  Perrote waited for the answer.  It
+did not come until Amphillis's head was on the pillow.
+
+"Cannot I please God and myself both?"
+
+"That canst thou, full well and sweetly, if so be thou put God first.
+Otherwise, nay."
+
+"Soothly, Mistress, I know not well what you would be at."
+
+"What our Saviour would be at Himself, which is, thy true bliss and
+blessedness, Phyllis.  My maid, to be assured of fair ending and good
+welcome at the end of the journey makes not the journeying wearier.  To
+know not whither thou art wending, save that it is into the dark; to be
+met of a stranger, that may be likewise an enemy; to be had up afore the
+judge's bar, with no advocate to plead for thee, and no surety of
+acquittal,--that is evil journeying, Phyllis, Dost not think so much?"
+
+Perrote listened in vain for any answer.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  Psalm seventy-two, verses 4, 5, 8, 12, 13, 18, 19; Hereford and
+Purvey's version, 1381-8.
+
+Note 2.  Romans six, verse 16; Wycliffe's version, 1382.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+ON THE TERRACE.
+
+  "Where we disavow
+  Being keeper to our brother, we're his Cain."
+
+  Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
+
+"Hylton, thou art weary gear!"
+
+"What ails me?"
+
+"What ails thee, forsooth?  Marry, but that's as good a jest as I heard
+this year!  I lack thee to tell me that.  For what ails me at thee, that
+were other matter, and I can give thee to wit, an' thou wilt.  Thou art
+as heavy as lead, and as dull as ditch-water, and as flat as dowled
+[flat] ale.  I would I were but mine own master, and I'd mount my horse,
+and ride away from the whole sort of you!"
+
+"From your father and mother, Matthew?"
+
+"Certes.  Where's the good of fathers and mothers, save to crimp and
+cramp young folks that would fain stretch their wings and be off into
+the sunlight?  Mine never do nought else."
+
+"Think you not the fathers and mothers might reasonably ask, Where's the
+good of sons and daughters?  How much have you cost yours, Matthew,
+since you were born?"
+
+Matthew Foljambe turned round with a light laugh, and gazed half
+contemptuously at the speaker.
+
+"Gentlemen never reckon," said he.  "'Tis a mean business, only fit for
+tradesfolk."
+
+"You might reckon that sum, Matthew, without damage to your gentle
+blood.  The King himself reckoneth up the troops he shall lack, and the
+convention-subsidy due from each man to furnish them.  You shall scantly
+go above him, I count."
+
+"I would I were but a king!  Wouldn't I lead a brave life!"
+
+"That would not I be for all the riches in Christendom."
+
+"The which speech showeth thine unwisdom.  Why, a king can have his
+purveyor to pick of the finest in the market ere any other be serven; he
+can lay tax on his people whenas it shall please him [this was true at
+that time]; he can have a whole pig or goose to his table every morrow;
+and as for the gifts that be brought him, they be without number.
+Marry, but if I were a king, wouldn't I have a long gown of blue velvet,
+all o'er broidered of seed-pearl, and a cap of cramoisie [crimson
+velvet], with golden broidery!  And a summer jack [the garment of which
+jacket is the diminutive] of samitelle would I have--let me see--green,
+I reckon, bound with gold ribbon; and fair winter hoods of miniver and
+ermine, and buttons of gold by the score.  Who so bravely apparelled as
+I, trow?"
+
+"Be your garments not warm enough, Matthew?"
+
+"Warm enough? certes!  But they be only camoca and lamb's far, with
+never a silver button, let be gold."
+
+"What advantage should gold buttons be to you?  Those pearl do attach
+your gown full evenly as well."
+
+"Hylton, thou hast no ambitiousness in thee!  Seest not that folks
+should pay me a deal more respect, thus donned [dressed] in my bravery?"
+
+"That is, they should pay much respect to the blue velvet and the gold
+buttons?  You should be no different that I can see."
+
+"I should be a vast sight comelier, man alive!"
+
+"You!" returned Hylton.
+
+"Where's the good of talking to thee?  As well essay to learn a sparrow
+to sing, `_J'ay tout perdu mon temps_.'"
+
+"I think you should have lost your time in very deed, and your labour
+belike, if you spent them on broidering gowns and stitching on buttons,
+when you had enow aforetime."
+
+"Thou sely loon!  [Simple creature!]  Dost reckon I mean to work mine
+own broidery, trow?  I'd have a fair score of maidens alway a-broidering
+for me, so that I might ever have a fresh device when I lacked a new
+gown."
+
+"The which should come in a year to--how much?"
+
+"Dost look for me to know?"
+
+"I do, when I have told you.  Above an hundred and twenty pound, Master
+Matthew.  That should your bravery cost you, in broidering-maids alone."
+
+"Well! what matter, so I had it?"
+
+"It might serve you.  I should desire to buy more happiness with such a
+sum than could be stitched into golden broidery and seed-pearl."
+
+"Now come, Norman, let us hear thy notion of happiness.  If thou hadst
+in thine hand an hundred pound, what should'st do withal?"
+
+"I would see if I could not dry up as many widows' tears as I had golden
+pieces, and bring as many smiles to the lips of orphans as they should
+divide into silver."
+
+"Prithee, what good should that do thee?"
+
+"It should keep mine heart warm in the chillest winter thereafter.  But
+I thought rather of the good it should do them than me."
+
+"But what be such like folks to thee?"
+
+"Our Lord died for them, and He is something to me."
+
+"Fate meant thee for a monk, Hylton.  Thou rannest thine head against
+the wall to become a squire."
+
+"Be monks the sole men that love God?"
+
+"They be the sole men that hold such talk."
+
+"I have known monks that held full different talk, I do ensure you.  And
+I have known laymen that loved God as well as any monk that ever paced
+cloister."
+
+"Gramercy! do leave preaching of sermons.  I have enow of them from my
+Lady my mother.  Let's be jolly, if we can."
+
+"You should have the better right to be jolly, to know whither you were
+going, and that you should surely come out safe at the far end."
+
+"Happy man be my dole!  I'm no wise feared.  I'll give an hundred pound
+to the Church the week afore I die, and that shall buy me a
+soft-cushioned seat in Heaven, I'll warrant."
+
+"Who told you so much?  Any that had been there?"
+
+"Man alive! wilt hold thy peace, and let man be?  Thou art turned now
+into a predicant friar.  I'll leave thee here to preach to the
+gilly-flowers."
+
+And Matthew walked off, with a sprig of mint in his mouth.  He was not a
+bad man, as men go.  He was simply a man who wanted to please himself,
+and to be comfortable and easy.  In his eyes the whole fabric of the
+universe revolved round Matthew Foljambe.  He did not show it as the
+royal savage did, who beat a primitive gong in token that, as he had sat
+down to dinner, the rest of the world might lawfully satisfy their
+hunger; but the sentiment in Matthew's mind was a civilised and refined
+form of the same idea.  If he were comfortable, what did it signify if
+everybody else were uncomfortable?
+
+Like all men in his day--and a good many in our own--Matthew had a low
+opinion of woman.  It had been instilled into him, as it was at that
+time into every man who wrote himself "esquire," that the utmost
+chivalrous reverence was due to the ladies as an abstract idea; but this
+abstract idea was quite compatible with the rudest behaviour and the
+supremest contempt for any given woman in the concrete.  Woman was an
+article of which there were two qualities: the first-class thing was a
+toy, the second was a machine.  Both were for the use of man--which was
+true enough, had they only realised that it meant for man's real help
+and improvement, bodily, mental, and spiritual; but they understood it
+to mean for the bodily comfort and mental amusement of the nobler half
+of the human race.  The natural result of this was that every woman must
+be appropriated to some master.  The bare notion of allowing a woman to
+choose whether she would go through life unattached to a master, or, if
+otherwise, to reject one she feared or disliked, would have seemed to
+Matthew the most preposterous audacity on the part of the inferior
+creature, as it would also have appeared if the inferior creature had
+shown discontent with the lot marked out for it.  The inferior creature,
+on the whole, walked very meekly in the path thus swept for it.  This
+was partly, no doubt, because it was so taught as a religious duty; but
+partly, also, because the style of education then given to women left no
+room for the mental wings to expand.  The bird was supplied with good
+seed and fresh water, and the idea of its wanting anything else was
+regarded as absurd.  Let it sit on the perch and sing in a properly
+subdued tone.  That it was graciously allowed to sing was enough for any
+reasonable bird, and ought to call forth on its part overflowing
+gratitude.
+
+Even then, a few of the caged birds were not content to sit meekly on
+the perch, but they were eyed askance by the properly behaved ones, and
+held up to the unfledged nestlings as sorrowful examples of the
+pernicious habit of thinking for one's self.  Never was bird less
+satisfied to be shut up in a cage than the hapless prisoner in that
+manor house, whom the peasants of the neighbourhood knew as the White
+Lady.  Now and then they caught a glimpse of her at the window of her
+chamber, which she insisted on having open, and at which she would stand
+sometimes by the hour together, looking sorrowfully out on the blue sky
+and the green fields, wherein she might wander no more.  A wild bird was
+Marguerite of Flanders, in whose veins ran the blood of those untamed
+sea-eagles, the Vikings of Denmark; and though bars and wires might keep
+her in the cage, to make her content with it was beyond their power.
+
+So thought Norman Hylton, looking up at the white figure visible behind
+the bars which crossed the casement of the captive's chamber.  He knew
+little of her beyond her name.
+
+"Saying thy prayers to the moon, Hylton? or to the White Lady?" asked a
+voice behind him.
+
+"Neither, Godfrey.  I was marvelling wherefore she is mewed up there.
+Dost know?"
+
+"I know she was a full wearisome woman to my Lord Duke her son, and that
+he is a jollier man by the acre since she here dwelt."
+
+"Was she his own mother?" asked Norman.
+
+"His own?--ay, for sure; and did him a good turn at the beginning, by
+preserving his kingdom for him when he was but a lad."
+
+"And could he find no better reward for her than this?"
+
+"Tut! she sharped [teased, irritated] him, man.  He could not have his
+will for her."
+
+"Could he ne'er have put up with a little less of it?  Or was his will
+so much dearer to him than his mother?"
+
+"Dost reckon he longed sore to be ridden of an old woman, and made to
+trot to market at her pleasure, when his own was to take every gate and
+hurdle in his way?  Thou art old woman thyself, an' thou so dost.  My
+Lord Duke is no jog-trot market-ass, I can tell thee, but as fiery a
+war-charger as man may see in a summer's day.  And dost think a
+war-charger should be well a-paid to have an old woman of his back?"
+
+"My Lady his mother, then, hath no fire in her?" said Norman, glancing
+up at her where she stood behind the bars in her white weeds, looking
+down on the two young men in the garden.
+
+"Marry, enough to burn a city down.  She did burn the King of France's
+camp afore Hennebon.  And whenas she was prisoner in Tickhill Castle, a
+certain knight, whose name I know not, [the name of this knight is
+apparently not on record], covenanted secretly with her by means of some
+bribe, or such like, given to her keepers, that he would deliver her
+from durance; and one night scaled he the walls, and she herself gat
+down from her window, and clambered like a cat by means of the
+water-spout and slight footholds in the stonework, till she came to the
+bottom, and then over the walls and away.  They were taken, as thou
+mayest lightly guess, yet they gat them nigh clear of the liberties ere
+they could again be captivated.  Fire! ay, that hath she, and ever will.
+Forsooth, that is the cause wherefore she harried her son.  If she
+would have sat still at her spinning, he'd have left her be.  But, look
+thou, she could not leave him be."
+
+"Wherein did she seek to let him, wot you?"
+
+"Good lack! not I.  If thou art so troubled thereanent, thou wert best
+ask my father.  Maybe he wist not.  I cannot say."
+
+"It must have been sore disheartenment," said Norman, pityingly, "to win
+nearly away, and then be brought back."
+
+"Ay, marry; and then was she had up to London afore the King's Grace,
+and had into straiter prison than aforetime.  Ere that matter was she
+treated rather as guest of the King and Queen, though in good sooth she
+was prisoner; but after was she left no doubt touching that question.
+Some thought she might have been released eight years agone, when the
+convention was with the Lady Joan of Brittany, which after her lord was
+killed at Auray, gave up all, receiving the county of Penthievre, the
+city of Limoges, and a great sum of money; and so far as England
+reckoned, so she might, and maybe would, had it been to my Lord Duke's
+convenience.  But he had found her aforetime very troublesome to him.
+Why, when he was but a youth, he fell o' love with some fair damsel of
+his mother's following, and should have wedded her, had not my Lady
+Duchess, so soon as ever she knew it, packed her off to a nunnery."
+
+"Wherefore?"
+
+"That wis I not, without it were that she was not for him."
+[Unsuitable.]
+
+"Was the tale true, think you?"
+
+"That wis I not likewise.  Man said so much--behold all I know.  Any
+way, she harried him, and he loved it not, and here she is.  That's
+enough for me."
+
+"Poor lady!"
+
+"Poor? what for poor?  She has all she can want.  She is fed and clad as
+well as ever she was--better, I dare guess, than when she was besieged
+in Hennebon.  If she would have broidery silks, or flowers, or any sort
+of women's toys, she hath but to say, and my Lady my mother shall ride
+to Derby for them.  The King gave order she should be well used, and
+well used she is.  He desireth not that she be punished, but only kept
+sure."
+
+"I would guess that mere keeping in durance, with nought more to vex
+her, were sorest suffering to one of her fashioning."
+
+"But what more can she lack?  Beside, she is only a woman."
+
+"Women mostly live in and for their children, and your story sounds as
+though hers cared little enough for her."
+
+"Well! they know she is well treated; why should they harry them over
+her?  They be young, and would lead a jolly life, not to be tied for
+ever to her apron-string."
+
+"I would not use my mother thus."
+
+"What wouldst?  Lead her horse with thy bonnet doffed, and make a leg
+afore her whenever she spake unto thee?"
+
+"If it made her happy so to do, I would.  Meseemeth I should be as well
+employed in leading her horse as another, and could show my chivalry as
+well towards mine old mother as any other lady.  I were somewhat more
+beholden to her of the twain, and God bade me not honour any other, but
+He did her."
+
+"_Ha, chetife_!  'Tis easier work honouring a fair damsel, with golden
+hair and rose-leaf cheek, than a toothless old harridan that is for ever
+plaguing thee."
+
+"Belike the Lord knew that, and writ therefore His fifth command."
+
+Godfrey did not answer, for his attention was diverted.  Two well-laden
+mules stood at the gate, and two men were coming up to the Manor House,
+carrying a large pack--a somewhat exciting vision to country people in
+the Middle Ages.  There were then no such things as village shops, and
+only in the largest and most important towns was any great stock kept by
+tradesmen.  The chief trading in country places was done by these
+itinerant pedlars, whose visits were therefore a source of great
+interest to the family, and especially to the ladies.  They served
+frequently as messengers and carriers in a small way, and were
+particularly valuable between the four seasons, when alone anything
+worth notice could be expected in the shops--Easter, Whitsuntide, All
+Saints, and Christmas.  There were also the spring and autumn fairs, but
+these were small matters except in the great towns.  As it was now the
+beginning of September, Godfrey knew that a travelling pedlar would be a
+most acceptable visitor to his mother and wife.
+
+The porter, instructed by his young master, let in the pedlars.
+
+"What have ye?" demanded Godfrey.
+
+"I have mercery, sweet Sir, and he hath jewelling," answered the taller
+of the pedlars, a middle-aged man with a bronzed face, which told of
+much outdoor exposure.
+
+"Why, well said!  Come ye both into hall, and when ye have eaten and
+drunk, then shall ye open your packs."
+
+Godfrey led the pedlars into the hall, and shouted for the sewer, whom
+he bade to set a table, and serve the wearied men with food.
+
+An hour later, Amphillis, who was sewing in her mistress's chamber, rose
+at the entrance of Lady Foljambe.
+
+"Here, Dame, be pedlars bearing mercery and jewelling," said she.
+"Would your Grace anything that I can pick forth to your content?"
+
+"Ay, I lack a few matters, Avena," said the Countess, in her usual
+bitter-sweet style.  "A two-three yards of freedom, an' it like thee;
+and a boxful of air, so he have it fresh; and if thou see a silver chain
+of daughter's duty, or a bit of son's love set in gold, I could serve me
+of those if I had them.  They'll not come over sea, methinketh."
+
+"Would it like your Grace," asked Lady Foljambe, rather stiffly, "to
+speak in plain language, and say what you would have?"
+
+"`Plain language!'" repeated the Countess.  "In very deed, but I
+reckoned I had given thee some of that afore now!  I would have my
+liberty, Avena Foljambe; and I would have my rights; and I would have of
+mine own childre such honour as 'longeth to a mother by reason and God's
+law.  Is that plain enough? or wouldst have it rougher hewn?"
+
+"Dame, your Grace wist well that such matter as this cometh not of
+pedlars' packs."
+
+"Ay!" said the Countess, with a long, weary sigh.  "I do, so!  Nor out
+of men's hearts, belike.  Well, Avena, to come down to such petty matter
+as I count I shall be suffered to have, prithee, bring me some violet
+silk of this shade for broidery, and another yard or twain of red
+samitelle for the backing.  It were not in thy writ of matters
+allowable, I reckon, that the pedlars should come up and open their
+packs in my sight?"
+
+Lady Foljambe looked scandalised.
+
+"Dear heart!  Dame, what means your Grace?"
+
+"I know," said the Countess.  "They have eyes, no less than I; and they
+shall see an old woman in white doole, and fall to marvelling, and maybe
+talking, wherefore their Lord King Edward keepeth her mewed up with bars
+across her casement.  His Grace's honour must be respected, trow.  Be it
+done.  'Tis only one penny the more to the account that the Lord of the
+helpless shall demand of him one day.  I trust he hath in his coffers
+wherewith to pay that debt.  Verily, there shall be some strange
+meetings in that further world.  I marvel something what manner of tale
+mine old friend De Mauny carried thither this last January, when he went
+on the long journey that hath no return.  Howbeit, seeing he wedded his
+master's cousin, maybe it were not to his conveniency to remind the Lord
+of the old woman behind the bars at Hazelwood.  It should scantly
+redound to his lord's credit.  And at times it seemeth me that the Lord
+lacketh reminding, for He appears to have forgot me."
+
+"I cannot listen, Dame, to such speech of my Sovereign."
+
+"Do thy duty, Avena.  After all, thy Sovereign's not bad man, as men go.
+Marvellous ill they go, some of them!  He hath held his sceptre well
+even betwixt justice and mercy on the whole, saving in two matters,
+whereof this old woman is one, and old women be of small account with
+most men.  He should have fared well had he wist his own mind a bit
+better--but that's in the blood.  Old King Harry, his father's
+grandfather, I have heard say, was a weary set-out for that.  Go thy
+ways, Avena, and stand not staring at me.  I'm neither a lovesome young
+damsel nor a hobgoblin, that thou shouldst set eyes on me thus.  Three
+ells of red samitelle, and two ounces of violet silk this hue--and a bit
+of gold twist shall harm no man.  Amphillis, my maid, thou art not glued
+to the chamber floor like thy mistress; go thou and take thy pleasure to
+see the pedlars' packs.  Thou hast not much here, poor child!"
+
+Amphillis thankfully accepted her mistress's considerate permission, and
+ran down to the hall.  She found the mercer's pack open, and the rich
+stuffs hung all about on the forms, which had been pulled forward for
+that purpose.  The jeweller meanwhile sat in a corner, resting until he
+was wanted.  Time was not of much value in the Middle Ages.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+ALNERS AND SAMITELLE.
+
+  "And there's many a deed I could wish undone, though the law might not
+  be broke;
+  And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I wish I had not
+  spoke."
+
+The mercer's stock, spread out upon the benches of the hall, was a sight
+at once gay and magnificent.  Cloth of gold, diaper, baldekin, velvet,
+tissue, samite, satin, tartaryn, samitelle, sarcenet, taffata, sindon,
+cendall, say--all of them varieties of silken stuffs--ribbons of silk,
+satin, velvet, silver, and gold, were heaped together in brilliant and
+bewildering confusion of beautiful colours.  Lady Foljambe, Mrs
+Margaret, Marabel, and Agatha, were all looking on.
+
+"What price is that by the yard?" inquired Lady Foljambe, touching a
+piece of superb Cyprus baldekin, striped white, and crimson.  Baldekin
+was an exceedingly rich silk, originally made at Constantinople: it was
+now manufactured in England also, but the "oversea" article was the more
+valuable, the baldekin of Cyprus holding first rank.  Baldachino is
+derived from this word.
+
+"Dame," answered the mercer, "that is a Cyprus baldekin; it is eight
+pound the piece of three ells."
+
+Lady Foljambe resigned the costly beauty with a sigh.
+
+"And this?" she asked, indicating a piece of soft blue.
+
+"That is an oversea cloth, Dame, yet not principal [of first-class
+quality]--it is priced five pound the piece."
+
+Lady Foljambe's gesture intimated that this was too much for her purse.
+"Hast any gold cloths of tissue, not over three pound the piece?"
+
+"That have I, Dame," answered the mercer, displaying a pretty pale
+green, a dark red, and one of the favourite yellowish-brown shade known
+as tawny.
+
+Lady Foljambe looked discontented; the beautiful baldekins first seen
+had eclipsed the modest attractions of their less showy associates.
+
+"Nay, I pass not [do not care] for those," said she.  "Show me velvet."
+
+The mercer answered by dexterously draping an unoccupied form, first
+with a piece of rich purple, then one of tawny, then one of deep
+crimson, and lastly a bright blue.
+
+"And what price be they?"
+
+He touched each as he recounted the prices, beginning with the purple.
+
+"Fifteen shillings the ell, Dame; a mark [13 shillings 4 pence];
+fourteen shillings; half a mark.  I have also a fair green at half
+a mark, a peach blossom at fourteen shillings, a grey at
+seven-and-sixpence, and a murrey [mulberry colour] at a mark."
+
+Lady Foljambe slightly shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Say a noble [6 shillings 8 pence] for the grey, and set it aside," she
+said.
+
+"Dame, I could not," replied the mercer, firmly though respectfully.
+"My goods be honest matter; they be such as they are set forth, and they
+have paid the King's dues."
+
+Like many other people, Lady Foljambe would have preferred smuggled
+goods, if they were cheaper than the honest article.  Her conscience was
+very elastic about taxes.  It was no great wonder that this spirit
+prevailed in days when the Crown could ruthlessly squeeze its subjects
+whenever it wanted extra money, as Henry the Third had done a hundred
+years before; and though his successors had not imitated his example,
+the memory of it remained as a horror and a suspicion.  Dishonest
+people, whether they are kings or coal-heavers, always make a place more
+difficult to fill for those who come after them.
+
+"Well! then set aside the blue," said Lady Foljambe, with a slight pout.
+"Margaret, what lackest thou?"
+
+Mrs Margaret looked wistfully at the fourteen-shilling crimson, and
+then manfully chose the six-and-eightpenny green.
+
+"Now let us see thy samitelles," said her Ladyship.
+
+Samitelle, as its name implies, was doubtless a commoner quality of the
+rich and precious samite, which ranked in costliness and beauty with
+baldekin and cloth of gold, and above satin and velvet.  Samite was a
+silk material, of which no more is known than that it was very
+expensive, and had a glossy sheen, like satin.  Some antiquaries have
+supposed it to be an old name for satin; but as several Wardrobe Rolls
+contain entries relating to both in immediate sequence, this supposition
+is untenable.
+
+The mercer exhibited three pieces of samitelle.
+
+"Perse, Dame, four marks the piece," said he, holding up a very pale
+blue; "ash-colour, thirty shillings; apple-bloom, forty shillings."
+
+"No," said Lady Foljambe; "I would have white."
+
+"Forty-five shillings the piece, Dame."
+
+"Hast no cheaper?"
+
+"Not in white, Dame."
+
+"Well! lay it aside; likewise three ells of the red.  I would have
+moreover a cendall of bean-flower colour, and a piece or twain of say--
+murrey or sop-in-wine."
+
+Cendall was a very fine, thin silk fit for summer wear, resembling what
+is now called foulard; say was the coarsest and cheapest sort of silk,
+and was used for upholstery as well as clothing.
+
+"I have a full fair bean-flower cendall, Dame, one shilling the ell; and
+a good sop-in-wine say at twopence."
+
+The mercer, as he spoke, held up the piece of say, of a nondescript
+colour, not unlike what is now termed crushed strawberry.
+
+"That shall serve for the chamberers," said Lady Foljambe; "but the
+cendall is for myself; I would have it good."
+
+"Dame, it is principal; you shall not see better."
+
+"Good.  Measure me off six ells of the cendall, and nine of the say.
+Then lay by each piece skeins of thread of silk, an ounce to the piece,
+each to his colour; two ounces of violet, and two of gold twist.  Enough
+for this morrow."
+
+The mercer bowed, with deft quickness executed the order, and proceeded
+to pack up the remainder of his goods.  When the forms were denuded of
+their rich coverings, he retired into the corner, and the jeweller came
+forward.
+
+The little jeweller was less dignified, but more lively and loquacious,
+than his companion the mercer.  He unstrapped his pack, laid it open at
+the feet of Lady Foljambe, and executed a prolonged flourish of two
+plump brown hands.
+
+"What may I lay before your Ladyship?  Buttons and buttoners of de best,
+paternosters of de finest, gold and silver collars, chains, crucifixes
+garnished of stones and pearls; crespines, girdles of every fashion,
+ouches, rings, tablets [tablets were of two sorts, reliquaries and
+memorandum-books], charms, gipsers, and forcers [satchels to hang from
+the waist, and small boxes], combs, spoons, caskets, collars for de
+leetle dogs, bells, points [tagged laces, then much used], alners
+[alms-bags, larger than purses], purses, knives, scissors, cups--what
+asks your Ladyship?  Behold dem all."
+
+"Dost call thyself a jeweller?" asked Lady Foljambe, with a laugh.
+"Why, thou art jeweller, silversmith, girdler, forcer-maker, and
+cutler."
+
+"Dame, I am all men to please my customers," answered the little
+jeweller, obsequiously.  "Will your Ladyship look?  Ah, de beautiful
+tings!"
+
+"Art thou Englishman?"
+
+"Ah! no, Madame, I am a Breton.  I come from Hennebon."
+
+A sudden flash of suspicious uneasiness lighted up the eyes of the
+Countess of Montfort's gaoler.  Yet had the man meant mischief, he would
+scarcely have been so communicative.  However that might be, Lady
+Foljambe determined to get him out of the house as quickly as possible.
+
+"I lack but little of thy sort," she said.  "Howbeit, thou mayest show
+us thine alners and thy buttons."
+
+"I would fain have a gipser," said Mrs Margaret.
+
+While Mrs Margaret was selecting from the stock of gipsers a pretty red
+velvet one with a silver clasp, price half-a-crown, Perrote came quietly
+into the hall, and stood beside Amphillis, a little behind Lady
+Foljambe, who had not heard her entrance.
+
+"Here are de alners, Madame," said the lively little Breton.  "Blue,
+green, black, white, red, tawny, violet.  Will your Ladyship choose?
+T'ree shillings to free marks--beautiful, beautiful!  Den here are--_Bon
+saints, que vois-je_?  Surely, surely it is Mademoiselle de Carhaix!"
+
+"It is," said Perrote; "and thou art Ivo filz Jehan?"
+
+"I am Ivo filz Jehan, dat man calls Ivo le Breton.  I go from Cornwall,
+where dwell my countrymen, right up to de Scottish border.  And how
+comes it, den, if a poor man may ask, dat I find here, in de heart of
+England, a Breton damsel of family?"
+
+Lady Foljambe was in an agony.  She would have given her best gold chain
+for the little Breton jeweller to have kept away from Hazelwood.  If he
+had any sort of penetration, another minute might reveal the secret
+hitherto so jealously guarded, that his Sovereign's missing mother was a
+prisoner there.  Her misery was the greater because she could not feel
+at all sure of Perrote, whom she strongly suspected of more loyalty to
+her mistress than to King Edward in her heart, though she had not shown
+it by any outward action.  Perrote knew the direction of Lady Foljambe's
+thoughts as well as if she had spoken them.  She answered very calmly,
+and with a smile.
+
+"May Breton damsels not tarry in strange lands, as well as Breton
+pedlars?  I have divers friends in England."
+
+"Surely, surely!" said the pedlar, hastily, perceiving that he had
+transgressed against Lady Foljambe's pleasure.  "Only, if so poor man
+may say it, it is full pleasant to see face dat man know in strange
+land.  Madame, would it please your Ladyship to regard de alners?"
+
+Lady Foljambe was only too glad to turn Ivo's attention back to the
+alners.  She bought six for presents--they were a favourite form of
+gift; and picked out twenty buttons of silver-gilt, stamped with an
+eagle.  Mrs Margaret also selected a rosary, of coral set in silver, to
+help her in saying her prayers, for which article, in her eyes of the
+first necessity, she gave 33 shillings 4 pence, and for a minute
+enamelled image of the Virgin and Child, in a little tabernacle or case
+of silver filagree, of Italian work, she paid five pounds.  This was to
+be set before her on the table and prayed to.  Mrs Margaret would not
+have put it quite in that plain form of words, for no idolater will ever
+admit that he addresses the piece of wood or stone; but it was what she
+really did without admitting it.  Alas for the worshipper whose god has
+to be carried about, and requires dusting like any other ornament!
+"They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth
+in them."
+
+Perrote bought an ivory comb of Ivo, which cost her three shillings, for
+old acquaintance sake; Marabel purchased six silver buttons in the form
+of a lamb, for which she paid 8 shillings 9 pence; Agatha invested four
+shillings in a chaplet of pearls; while Amphillis, whose purse was very
+low, and had never been otherwise, contented herself with a sixpenny
+casket.  Ivo, however, was well satisfied, and packed up his goods with
+a radiant face.
+
+When the two itinerant tradesmen had shouldered their packs, and had
+gone forth, Lady Foljambe hastily summoned her husband's squire.  She
+was not sufficiently high in dignity to have a squire of her own.
+
+"Prithee, keep watch of yon little jeweller packman," said she,
+uneasily.  "Mark whither he goeth, and see that he hold no discourse
+with any of the household, without it be to trade withal.  I desire to
+know him clear of the vicinage ere the dark falleth."
+
+Norman Hylton bowed in answer, and went out.
+
+He found the two packmen in the courtyard, the centre of an admiring
+throng of servants and retainers, all of whom were anxious to inspect
+their goods, some from a desire to make such purchases as they could
+afford, and all from that longing to relieve the monotony of life which
+besets man in general, and must have been especially tempting in the
+Middle Ages.  A travelling pedlar was the substitute for an illustrated
+newspaper, his pack supplying the engravings, and his tongue the text.
+These men and pilgrims were the chief newsmongers of the day.
+
+Ivo dangled a pair of blue glass ear-rings before the enchanted eyes of
+Kate the chambermaid.
+
+"You shall have dem dirt sheap!  Treepence de pair--dat is all.  Vat
+lack you, my young maids?  Here is mirrors and combs, scissors and
+knives, necklaces, beads and girdles, purses of Rouen, forcers and
+gipsers--all manner you can wish.  Relics I have, if you desire dem--a
+little finger-bone of Saint George, and a tooth of de dragon dat he
+slew; a t'read of de veil of Saint Agat'a, and de paring of Saint
+Matthew's nails.  Here is brooches, crespines, charms, spectacles,
+alners, balls, puppets, coffers, bells, baskets for de maids'
+needlework, pins, needles, ear-rings, shoe-buckles, buttons--everyting!
+And here--here is my beautifullest ting--my chiefest relic, in de leetle
+silver box--see!"
+
+"Nay, what is it, trow?" inquired Kate, who looked with deep interest
+through the interstices of the filagree, and saw nothing but a few
+inches of coarse linen thread.
+
+"Oh, it is de blessed relic!  Look you, our Lady made shirt for Saint
+Joseph, and she cut off de t'read, and it fall on de floor, and dere it
+lie till Saint Petronilla come by, and she pick it up and put it in her
+bosom.  It is all writ down inside.  De holy Fader give it my moder's
+grandmoder's aunt, when she go to Rome.  It is wort' tousands of
+pounds--de t'read dat our blessed Lady draw t'rough her fingers.  You
+should have no maladies never, if you wear dat."
+
+"Ay, but such things as that be alonely for folk as can pay for 'em, I
+reckon," said Kate, looking wistfully, first at the blue ear-rings, and
+then at the blessed relic.
+
+Ivo made a screen of his hand, and spoke into Kate's ear.
+
+"See you, now!  You buy dem, and I trow him you into de bargain!  Said I
+well, fair maid?"
+
+"What, all for threepence?" gasped the bewitched Kate.
+
+"All for t'ree-pence.  De blessed relic and de beautiful ear-rings!  It
+is dirt sheap.  I would not say it to nobody else, only my friends.  See
+you?"
+
+Kate looked in his face to see if he meant it, and then slowly drew out
+her purse.  The warmth of Ivo's friendship, ten minutes old at the most,
+rather staggered her.  But the ear-rings had taken her fancy, and she
+was also, though less, desirous to possess the holy relic.  She poured
+out into the palm of her hand various pence, halfpence, and farthings,
+and began endeavouring to reckon up the threepence; a difficult task for
+a girl utterly ignorant of figures.
+
+"You leave me count it," suggested the little packman.  "I will not
+cheat you--no, no!  How could I, wid de blessed relic in mine hand?
+One, two, free.  Dere!  I put in de rings in your ears? ah, dey make you
+look beautiful, beautiful!  De widow lady, I see her not when I have my
+pack in hall.  She is well?"
+
+"What widow lady, trow?" said Kate, feeling the first ear-ring glide
+softly into her ear.
+
+"Ah, I have afore been here.  I see a widow lady at de window.  Why come
+she not to hall?--Oh, how fair you shall be! you shall every eye
+charm!--She is here no more--yes?"
+
+"Well, ay--there is a widow lady dwelleth here," said Kate, offering the
+other ear to her beguiler, just as Norman Hylton came up to them; "but
+she is a prisoner, and--hush! haste you, now, or I must run without
+them."
+
+"Dat shall you not," said Ivo, quickly slipping the second ear-ring into
+its place.  "Ah, how lovesome should you be, under dat bush by the gate,
+that hath de yellow flowers, when de sun was setting, and all golden
+behind you!  Keep well de holy relic; it shall bring you good."
+
+And with a significant look, and a glance upwards at the house, Ivo
+shouldered his pack, and turned away.
+
+The mercer had not seemed anxious to do business with the household.
+Perhaps he felt that his wares were scarcely within their means.  He sat
+quietly in the gateway until the jeweller had finished his chaffering,
+when he rose and walked out beside him.  The two packs were carefully
+strapped on the waiting mules, which were held by the lad, and the party
+marched down the slope from the gateway.
+
+"What bought you with your holy relic and your ear-rings, Ivo?" asked
+the mercer, with a rather satirical glance at his companion, when they
+were well out of hearing.  "Aught that was worth them?"
+
+"I bought the news that our Lady abideth hither," was the grave reply;
+"and it was cheap, at the cost of a scrap of tin and another of glass,
+and an inch or twain of thread out of your pack.  If yon maid have but
+wit to be under the shrub by the gate at sunset, I shall win more of
+her.  But she's but a poor brain, or I err.  Howbeit, I've had my
+ear-rings' worth.  They cost but a halfpenny.  Can you see aught from
+here?  Your eyes be sharper than mine."
+
+"I see somewhat white at yonder window.  But, Ivo, were you wise to tell
+the lady you came from Hennebon?"
+
+"I was, Sir Roland.  She will suspect me now, instead of you; and if, as
+I guess, she send a spy after us, when we part company he will follow
+me, and you shall be quit of him."
+
+The mercer glanced back, as though to see if any one were following.
+
+"Well, perchance you say well," he answered.  "There is none behind,
+methinks.  So now to rejoin Father Eloy."
+
+Norman Hylton had not followed the packmen beyond the gate.  He did not
+like the business, and was glad to be rid of it.  He only kept watch of
+them till they disappeared up the hill, and then returned to tell Lady
+Foljambe the direction which they had taken.
+
+Kate's mind was considerably exercised.  As Ivo had remarked, her wits
+were by no means of the first quality, but her conceit and love of
+admiration far outstripped them.  The little jeweller had seen this, and
+had guessed that she would best answer his purpose of the younger
+members of the household.  Quiet, sensible Joan, the upper chambermaid,
+would not have suited him at all; neither would sturdy, straightforward
+Meg, the cook-maid; but Kate's vanity and indiscretion were both so
+patent that he fixed on her at once as his chosen accomplice.  His only
+doubt was whether she had sense enough to understand his hint about
+being under the bush at sunset.  Ivo provided himself with a showy
+brooch of red glass set in gilt copper, which Kate was intended to
+accept as gold and rubies; and leaving his pack under the care of his
+fellow conspirator--for Ivo was really the pedlar which Roland was not--
+he slipped back to Hazelwood, and shortly before the sun set was
+prowling about in the neighbourhood of the bush which stood just outside
+the gate of Hazelwood Manor.  Before he had been there many minutes, a
+light, tripping footstep was heard; and poor, foolish Kate, with the
+blue drops in her ears, came like a giddy fly into the web of Ivo the
+spider.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+MISCHIEF.
+
+  "I've nothing to do with better and worse--I haven't to judge for the
+  rest:
+  If other men are not better than I am, they are bad enough at the
+  best."
+
+When Ivo thought proper to see Kate approaching, he turned with an
+exclamation of hyperbolical admiration.  He knew perfectly the type of
+woman with whom he had to deal.  "Ah, it is den you, fair maid?  You be
+fair widout dem, but much fairer wid de ear-rings, I you assure.  Ah, if
+you had but a comely ouche at your t'roat, just dere,"--and Ivo laid a
+fat brown finger at the base of his own--"your beauty would be perfect--
+perfect!"
+
+"Lack-a-day, I would I had!" responded silly Kate; "but ouches and such
+be not for the likes of me."
+
+"How?  Say no such a ting!  I know of one jewel, a ruby of de best, and
+de setting of pure gold, fit for a queen, dat might be had by de maid
+who would give herself one leetle pain to tell me only one leetle ting,
+dat should harm none; but you care not, I dare say, to trouble you-self
+so much."
+
+And Ivo thrust his hands in his pockets, and began to whistle softly.
+
+"Nay, now; do you?" said the bewitched fly, getting a little deeper into
+the web.  "Good Master Packman, do of your grace tell me how a maid
+should earn that jewel?"
+
+Ivo drew the brooch half out of his breast, so as just to allow Kate the
+least glance at it possible.
+
+"Is that the jewel?" she asked, eagerly.  "Eh, but it shineth well-nigh
+to match the sun himself!  Come, now; what should I tell you?  I'll do
+aught to win it."
+
+Ivo came close to her, and spoke into her ear.
+
+"Show me which is the prisoner's window."
+
+"Well, it's yon oriel, on the inner side of--Eh, but I marvel if I do
+ill to tell you!"
+
+"Tell me noting at all dat you count ill," was the pious answer of Ivo,
+who had got to know all he needed except one item.  "You can tarry a
+little longer? or you are very busy?  Sir Godfrey is away, is it not?"
+
+"Nay, he's at home, but he'll be hence next week.  He's to tilt at the
+tournament at Leicester."
+
+"Ah! dat will be grand sight, all de knights and de ladies.  But I am
+sure--sure--dere shall not be one so fair as you, sweet maid.  Look you,
+I pin de jewel at your neck.  It is wort von hundred pound, I do ensure
+you."
+
+"Eh, to think of it!" cried enchanted Kate.
+
+"And I would not part wid it but to my friend, and a maid so fair and
+delightsome.  See you, how it shine!  It shine better as de sun when it
+do catch him.  You sleep in de prisoner's chamber?--yes?"
+
+"Nay, I'm but a sub-chambermaid, look you--not even an upper.  Mistress
+Perrote, she sleeps in the pallet whenas any doth; but methinks her
+Ladyship lieth alone at this present.  Howbeit, none never seeth her
+save Mistress Perrote and Mistress Amphillis, and my Lady and Sir
+Godfrey, of course, when they have need.  I've ne'er beheld her myself,
+only standing behind the casement, as she oft loveth to do.  My Lady
+hath a key to her chamber door, and Mistress Perrote the like; and none
+save these never entereth."
+
+Ivo drank in all the information which Kate imparted, while he only
+seemed to be carelessly trimming a switch which he had pulled from a
+willow close at hand.
+
+"They be careful of her, it should seem," he said.
+
+"You may say that.  They're mortal feared of any man so much as seeing
+her.  Well, I reckon I should go now.  I'm sure I'm right full indebted
+to you, Master Packman, for this jewel: only I don't feel as if I have
+paid you for it."
+
+"You have me paid twice its value, to suffer me look on your beautiful
+face!" was the gallant answer, with a low bow.  "But one more word, and
+I go, fair maid, and de sun go from me wid you.  De porter, he is what
+of a man?--and has he any dog?"
+
+"Oh ay, that he hath; but I can peace the big dog well enough, an' I did
+but know when it should be.  Well, as for the manner of man, he's
+pleasant enough where he takes, look you; but if he reckons you're after
+aught ill, you'll not come round him in no wise."
+
+"Ah, he is wise man.  I see.  Well, my fairest of maidens, you shall, if
+it please you, keep de big dog looking de oder way at nine o'clock of de
+even, de night Sir Godfrey goes; and de Lady Princess have not so fair a
+crespine for her hair as you shall win, so to do.  Dat is Monday night,
+trow?"
+
+"Nay, 'tis Tuesday.  Well, I'll see; I'll do what I can."
+
+"Fair maid, if I t'ought it possible, I would say, de saints make you
+beautifuller!  But no; it is not possible.  So I say, de saints make you
+happier, and send you all dat you most desire!  Good-night."
+
+"Good even, Master Packman, and good befall you.  You'll not forget that
+crespine?"
+
+"Forget?  Impossible!  Absolute impossible!  I bear your remembrance on
+mine heart all de days of my life.  I adore you!  Farewell."
+
+When Meg, the next minute, joined Kate under the tree, there was no more
+sign of Ivo than if he had been the airy creature of a dream.
+
+The little pedlar had escaped dexterously, and only just in time.  He
+hid for a moment beneath the shade of a friendly shrub, and, as soon as
+he saw Meg's back turned, ran downwards into the Derby road as lithely
+as a cat, and took the way to that city, where he recounted to his
+companions, when other people were supposed to be asleep, the
+arrangement he had made to free the Countess.
+
+"Thou art sore lacking in discretion, my son," said Father Eloy, whose
+normal condition was that of a private confessor in Bretagne, and whose
+temporary disguise was that of a horse-dealer.  "Such a maid as thou
+describest is as certain to want and have a confidant as she is to wear
+that trumpery.  Thou wilt find--or, rather, we shall find--the whole
+house up and alert, and fully aware of our intention."
+
+Ivo's shoulders were shrugged very decidedly.
+
+"_Ha, chetife_!" cried he; "she will want the crespine."
+
+"Not so much as she will want to impart her secret," answered the
+priest.  "Who whispered to the earth, `Midas has long ears'?"
+
+"It will not matter much to Ivo, so he be not taken," said the knight.
+"Nor, in a sense, to you, Father, as your frock protects you.  I shall
+come off the worst."
+
+"You'll come off well enough," responded Ivo.  "You made an excellent
+mercer this morrow.  You only need go on chaffering till you have sold
+all your satins, and by that time you will have your pockets well lined;
+and if you choose your route wisely, you will be near the sea."
+
+"Well and good! if we are not all by that time eating dry bread at the
+expense of our worthy friend Sir Godfrey."
+
+"Mind _you_ are not, Sir Roland," said Ivo.  "Every man for himself.  I
+always fall on my feet like a cat, and have nine lives."
+
+"Nine lives come to an end some day," replied Sir Roland, grimly.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+"On what art thou a-thinking thus busily, Phyllis?"
+
+"Your pardon, Mistress Perrote; I was thinking of you."
+
+"Not hard to guess, when I saw thine eyes look divers times my ways.
+What anentis me, my maid?"
+
+"I cry you mercy, Mistress Perrote; for you should very like say that
+whereon I thought was none of my business.  Yet man's thoughts will not
+alway be ruled.  I did somewhat marvel, under your pleasure, at your
+answer to yon pedlar that asked how you came to be hither."
+
+"Wherefore? that I told him no more?"
+
+"Ay; and likewise--"
+
+"Make an end, my maid."
+
+"Mistress, again I cry you mercy; but it seemed me as though, while you
+sore pitied our Lady, you had no list to help her forth of her trouble,
+an' it might be compassed.  And I conceived [Note 1] it not."
+
+"It could not be compassed, Phyllis; and granting it so should, to what
+good purpose?  Set in case that she came forth this morrow, a free
+woman--whither is she to wend, and what to do?  To her son?  He will
+have none of her.  To her daughter?  Man saith she hath scantly more
+freedom than her mother in truth, being ruled of an ill husband that
+giveth her no leave to work.  To King Edward?  It should but set him in
+the briars with divers other princes, the King of France and the Duke of
+Bretagne more in especial.  To my Lady Princess?  Verily, she is good
+woman, yet is she mother of my Lady Duchess; and though I cast no doubt
+she should essay to judge the matter righteously, yet 'tis but like that
+she should lean to her own child, which doubtless seeth through her
+lord's eyes; and it should set her in the briars no less than King
+Edward.  Whither, then, is she to go for whom there is no room on middle
+earth [Note 2], and whose company all men avoid?  Nay, my maid, for the
+Lady Marguerite there is no home save Heaven; and there is none to be
+glad of her company save Him that was yet more lonely than she, and
+whose foes, like hers, were they of His own house."
+
+"'Tis sore pitiful!" said Amphillis, looking up with the tears in her
+eyes.
+
+"`Pitiful'! ay, never was sadder case sithence that saddest of all in
+the Garden of Gethsemane.  Would God she would seek Him, and accept of
+His pity!"
+
+"Surely, our Lady is Christian woman!" responded Amphillis, in a rather
+astonished tone.
+
+"What signifiest thereby?"
+
+"Why she that doth right heartily believe Christ our Lord to have been
+born and died, and risen again, and so forth."
+
+"What good should that do her?"
+
+Amphillis stared, without answering.
+
+"If that belief were very heartfelt, it should be life and comfort; but
+meseemeth thy manner of belief is not heartfelt, but headful.  To
+believe that a man lived and died, Phyllis, is not to accept his help,
+and to affy thee in his trustworthiness.  Did it ever any good and
+pleasure to thee to believe that one Julius Caesar lived over a thousand
+years ago?"
+
+"No, verily; but--" Amphillis did not like to say what she was thinking,
+that no appropriation of good, nor sensation of pleasure, had ever yet
+mingled with that belief in the facts concerning Jesus Christ on which
+she vaguely relied for salvation.  She thought a moment, and then spoke
+out.  "Mistress, did you mean there was some other fashion of believing
+than to think certainly that our Lord did live and die?"
+
+"Set in case, Phyllis, that thou shouldst hear man to say, `I believe in
+Master Godfrey, but not in Master Matthew,' what shouldst reckon him to
+signify?  Think on it."
+
+"I suppose," said Amphillis, after a moment's pause for consideration,
+"I should account him to mean that he held Master Godfrey for a true
+man, in whom man might safely affy him; but that he felt not thus sure
+of Master Matthew."
+
+"Thou wouldst not reckon, then, that he counted Master Matthew as a
+fabled man that was not alive?"
+
+"Nay, surely!" said Amphillis, laughing.
+
+"Then seest not for thyself that there is a manner of belief far beside
+and beyond the mere reckoning that man liveth?  Phyllis, dost thou trust
+Christ our Lord?"
+
+"For what, Mistress?  That He shall make me safe at last, if I do my
+duty, and pay my dues to the Church, and shrive me [confess sins to a
+priest] metely oft, and so forth?  Ay, I reckon I do," said Amphillis,
+in a tone which sounded rather as if she meant "I don't."
+
+"Hast alway done thy duty, Amphillis?"
+
+"Alack, no, Mistress.  Yet meseemeth there be worser folks than I.  I am
+alway regular at shrift."
+
+"The which shrift thou shouldst little need, if thou hadst never failed
+in duty.  But how shall our Lord make thee safe?"
+
+"Why, forgive me my sins," replied Amphillis, looking puzzled.
+
+"That saith what He shall do, not how He shall do it.  Thy sins are a
+debt to God's law and righteousness.  Canst thou pay a debt without
+cost?"
+
+"But forgiveness costs nought."
+
+"Doth it so?  I think scarce anything costs more.  Hast ever meditated,
+Amphillis, what it cost God to forgive sin?"
+
+"I thought it cost Him nothing at all."
+
+"Child, it could only be done in one of two ways, at the cost of His
+very self.  Either He should forgive sin without propitiation--which
+were to cost His righteousness and truth and honour.  Could that be?  In
+no wise.  Then it must be at the cost of His own bearing the penalty due
+unto the sinner.  Thy sins, Amphillis, thine every failure in duty,
+thine every foolish thought or wrongful word, cost the Father His own
+Son out of His bosom, cost the Son a human life of agony and a death of
+uttermost terribleness.  Didst thou believe that?"
+
+A long look of mingled amazement and horror preceded the reply.
+"Mistress Perrote, I never thought of no such thing!  I thought--I
+thought," said Amphillis, struggling for the right words to make her
+meaning clear, "I thought our Lord was to judge us for our sins, and our
+blessed Lady did plead with Him to have mercy on us, and we must do the
+best we could, and pray her to pray for us.  But the fashion you so put
+it seemeth--it seemeth certain, as though the matter were settled and
+done with, and should not be fordone [revoked].  Is it thus?"
+
+If Perrote de Carhaix had not been gifted with the unction from the Holy
+One, she would have made a terrible mistake at that juncture.  All that
+she had been taught by man inclined her to say "no" to the question.
+But "there are a few of us whom God whispers in the ear," and those who
+hear those whispers often go utterly contrary to man's teaching, being
+bound only by God's word.  So bound they must be.  If they speak not
+according to that word, it is because there is no light in them--only an
+_ignis fatuus_ which leads the traveller into quagmires.  But they are
+often free from all other bonds.  Perrote could not have told what made
+her answer that question in the way she did.  It was as if a soft hand
+were laid upon her lips, preventing her from entering into any doctrinal
+disputations, and insisting on her keeping the question down to the
+personal level.  She said--or that inward monitor said through her--
+
+"Is it settled for thee, Amphillis?"
+
+"Mistress, I don't know!  Can I have it settled?"
+
+"`He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.'  `I give unto
+them eternal life.'"  [John three verse 36; ten, verse 28.]  Perrote
+said no more.
+
+"Then, if I go and ask at Him--?"
+
+"`My Lord God, I cried unto Thee, and Thou madest me whole.'  `All ye
+that hope in the Lord, do manly, and your heart shall be comforted.'"
+[Psalm thirty, verse 3; thirty-one, verse 25; Hereford and Purvey's
+version.]
+
+Once more it was as by a heavenly instinct that Perrote answered in
+God's words rather than in her own.  Amphillis drew a long breath.  The
+light was rising on her.  She could not have put her convictions into
+words; and it was quite as well, for had she done so, men might have
+persuaded her out of them.  But the one conviction "borne in upon her"
+was--God, and not man; God's word, not men's words; God the Saviour of
+men, not man the saviour of himself; God the Giver of His Son for the
+salvation of men, not men the offerers of something to God for their own
+salvation.  And when man or woman reaches that point, that he sees in
+all the universe only himself and God, the two points are not likely to
+remain long apart.  When the one is need longing for love, and the Other
+is love seeking for need, what can they do but come close together?
+
+Sir Godfrey set forth for his tournament in magnificent style, and Lady
+Foljambe and Mistress Margaret with him.  Young Godfrey was already
+gone.  The old knight rode a fine charger, and was preceded by his
+standard-bearer, carrying a pennon of bright blue, whereon were
+embroidered his master's arms--sable, a bend or, between six scallops of
+the second.  The ladies journeyed together in a quirle, and were
+provided with rich robes and all their jewellery.  The house and the
+prisoner were left in the hands of Matthew, Father Jordan, and Perrote.
+Norman Hylton accompanied his master.
+
+Lady Foljambe's mind had grown tolerably easy on the subject of Ivo, and
+she only gave Perrote a long lecture, warning her, among other things,
+never to leave the door unlocked nor the prisoner alone.  Either Perrote
+or Amphillis must sleep in the pallet bed in her chamber during the
+whole time of Lady Foljambe's absence, so that she should never be left
+unguarded for a single moment.  Matthew received another harangue, to
+which he paid little attention in reality, though in outward seeming he
+received it with due deference.  Father Jordan languidly washed his
+hands with invisible soap, and assured his patrons that no harm could
+possibly come to the prisoner through their absence.
+
+The Tuesday evening was near its close.  The sun had just sunk behind
+the western hills; the day had been bright and beautiful in the extreme.
+Amphillis was going slowly upstairs to her turret, carrying her little
+work-basket, which was covered with brown velvet and adorned with silver
+cord, when she saw Kate standing in the window of the landing, as if she
+were waiting for something or some person.  It struck Amphillis that
+Kate looked unhappy.
+
+"Kate, what aileth thee?" she asked, pausing ere ere she mounted the
+last steps.  "Dost await here for man to pass?"
+
+"Nay, Mistress--leastwise--O Mistress Amphillis, I wis not what to do!"
+
+"Anentis what, my maid?"
+
+"Nay, I'd fain tell you, but--Lack-a-day, I'm all in a tumblement!"
+
+"What manner of tumblement?" asked Amphillis, sitting down in the
+window-seat.  "Hast brake some pottery, Kate, or torn somewhat, that
+thou fearest thy dame's anger?"
+
+"Nay, I've brake nought saving my word; and I've not done that _yet_."
+
+"It were evil to break thy word, Kate."
+
+"Were it so?"  Kate looked up eagerly.
+
+"Surely, without thou hadst passed word to do somewhat thou shouldst
+not."
+
+Kate's face fell.  She had thought she saw a way out of her difficulty;
+and it was closing round her again.
+
+"It's none so easy to tell what man shouldn't," she said, in a troubled
+tone.
+
+"What hast thou done, Kate?"
+
+"Nay, I've done nought yet.  I've only passed word to do."
+
+"To do what?"
+
+Before Kate could answer, Agatha whisked into the corner.
+
+"Thank goodness they're all gone, the whole lot of them!  Won't we have
+some fun now!  Kate, run down stairs, and bring me up a cork; and I want
+a long white sheet and a mop.  Now haste thee, do! for I would fain
+cause Father Jordan to skrike out at me, and I have scarce time to get
+my work done ere the old drone shall come buzzing up this gait.  Be
+sharp, maid! and I'll do thee a good turn next time."
+
+And Agatha fairly pushed Kate down the stairs, allowing her neither
+excuse nor delay--a piece of undignified conduct which would bitterly
+have scandalised Lady Foljambe, could she have seen it.  By the time
+that Kate returned with the articles prescribed, Agatha had possessed
+herself of a lighted candle, wherein she burnt the end of the cork, and
+with it proceeded to delineate, in the middle of the sheet, a very
+clever sketch of a ferocious Turk, with moustaches of stupendous length.
+Then elevating the long mop till it reached about a yard above her
+head, she instructed Kate to arrange the sheet thereon in such a manner
+that the Turk's face showed close to the top of the mop, and gave the
+idea of a giant about eight feet in height.
+
+"Now then--quick!  I hear the old bumble-bee down alow yonder.  Keep as
+still as mice, and stir not, nor laugh for your lives!"
+
+Kate appeared to have quite forgotten her trouble, and entered into
+Agatha's mischievous fun with all the thoughtless glee of a child.
+
+"Agatha," said Amphillis, "my Lady Foljambe should be heavy angered if
+she wist thy dealing.  Prithee, work not thus.  If Father Jordan verily
+believed thou wert a ghost, it were well-nigh enough to kill him, poor
+sely old man.  And he hath ill deserved such treatment at thine hands."
+
+In the present day we should never expect an adult clergyman to fall
+into so patent a trap; but in the Middle Ages even learned men were
+credulous to an extent which we can scarcely imagine.  Priests were in
+the habit of receiving friendly visits from pretended saints, and
+meeting apparitions of so-called demons, apparently without the faintest
+suspicion that the spirits in question might have bodies attached to
+them, or that their imaginations might be at all responsible for the
+vision.
+
+"Thank all the Calendar she's away!" was Agatha's response.  "Thee hold
+thy peace, and be not a spoil-sport.  I mean to tell him I'm a soul in
+Purgatory, and none save a priest named Jordan can deliver me, and he
+only by licking of three crosses in the dust afore our Lady's altar
+every morrow for a month.  That shall hurt none of him! and it shall
+cause me die o' laughter to see him do it.  Back! quick! here cometh he.
+I would fain hear the old snail skrike out at me, `Avaunt, Sathanas!'
+as he surely will."
+
+Amphillis stepped back.  Her quicker ear had recognised that the step
+beginning to ascend the stairs was not that of the old priest, and she
+felt pretty sure whose it was--that healthy, sturdy, plain-spoken Meg,
+the cook-maid, was the destined victim, and was likely to be little
+injured, while there was a good chance of Agatha's receiving her
+deserts.
+
+Just as Meg reached the landing, a low groan issued from the uncanny
+thing.  Agatha of course could not see; she only heard the steps, which
+she still mistook for those of Father Jordan.  Meg stood calmly gazing
+on the apparition.
+
+"Will none deliver an unhappy soul in Purgatory?" demanded a hollow
+moaning voice, followed by awful groans, such as Amphillis had not
+supposed it possible for Agatha to produce.
+
+"I rather reckon, my Saracen, thou'rt a soul out o' Purgatory with a
+body tacked to thee," said Meg, in the coolest manner.  "Help thee?  Oh
+ay, that I will, and bring thee back to middle earth out o' thy pains.
+Come then!"
+
+And Meg laid hands on the white sheet, and calmly began to pull it down.
+
+"Oh, stay, Meg!  Thou shalt stifle me," said the Turk, in Agatha's
+voice.
+
+"Ay, I thought you'd somewhat to do wi' 't, my damsel; it were like you.
+Have you driven anybody else out o' her seven senses beside me wi' yon
+foolery?"
+
+"You've kept in seventy senses," pouted Agatha, releasing herself from
+the last corner of her ghostly drapery.  "Meg, you're a spoil-sport."
+
+"My dame shall con you but poor thanks, Mistress Agatha, if you travail
+folks o' this fashion while she tarrieth hence.  Mistress Amphillis,
+too!  Marry, I thought--"
+
+"I tarried here to lessen the mischief," said Amphillis.
+
+"It wasn't thee I meant to fright," said Agatha, with a pout.  "I
+thought Father Jordan was a-coming; it was he I wanted.  Never blame
+Amphillis; she's nigh as bad as thou."
+
+"Mistress Amphillis, I ask your pardon.  Mistress Agatha, you're a bad
+un.  'Tis a burning shame to harry a good old man like Father Jordan.
+Thee hie to thy bed, and do no more mischief, thou false hussy!  I'll
+tell my dame of thy fine doings when she cometh home; I will, so!"
+
+"Now, Meg, dear, sweet Meg, don't, and I'll--"
+
+"You'll get you abed and 'bide quiet.  I'm neither dear nor sweet; I'm a
+cook-maid, and you're a young damsel with a fortin, and you'd neither
+`sweet' nor `dear' me without you were wanting somewhat of me.
+Forsooth, they'll win a fortin that weds wi' the like of you!  Get abed,
+thou magpie!"
+
+And Meg was heard muttering to herself as she mounted the upper stairs
+to the attic chamber, which she shared with Joan and Kate.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  Understood.  The word _understand_ was then restricted to an
+original idea; _conceive_ was used in the sense of understanding another
+person.
+
+Note 2.  The term "middle earth" arose from the belief then held, that
+the earth was in the midst of the universe, equidistant from Heaven
+above it and from Hell beneath.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+NIGHT ALARMS.
+
+  "Oh let me feel Thee near me,--
+  The world is very near:
+  I see the sights that dazzle,
+  The tempting sounds I hear;
+  My foes are ever near me,
+  Around me and within;
+  But, Jesus, draw Thou nearer,
+  And save my soul from sin."
+
+  John E. Bode.
+
+"Phyllis, thou wilt lie in my Lady's pallet, tonight," said Perrote, as
+she let her into their own chamber.  Amphillis looked rather alarmed.
+She had never yet been appointed to that responsible office.  But it was
+not her nature to protest against superior orders; and she quietly
+gathered up such toilet articles as she required, and prepared to obey.
+
+"You know your duty?" said Perrote, interrogatively.  "You first help
+your Lady abed, and then hie abed yourself, in the dark, as silently and
+hastefully as may be.  There is no more to do, without she call in the
+night, till her _lever_, for which you must be ready, and have a care
+not to arouse her till she wake and summon you, without the hour grow
+exceeding late, when you may lawfully make some little bruit to wake her
+after a gentle fashion.  Come now."
+
+Amphillis followed Perrote into the Countess's room.
+
+They found her standing by the window, as she often was at night, for
+the sunset and the evening lights had a great attraction for her.  She
+turned her head as they entered.
+
+"At last, Perrote!" she said.  "In good sooth, but I began to think thou
+hadst forgot me, like everybody else in earth and heaven."
+
+"My Lady knows I shall never do that," was the quiet reply.  "Dame, my
+Lady Foljambe entreats of your Ladyship leave that Amphillis here shall
+lie in your pallet until she return."
+
+"Doth she so?" answered the Countess, with a curt laugh.  "My Lady
+Foljambe is vastly pleasant, trow.  Asking her caged bird's leave to set
+another bird in the cage!  Well, little brown nightingale, what sayest?
+Art feared lest the old eagle bite, or canst trust the hooked beak for a
+week or twain?"
+
+"Dame, an' it please you, I am in no wise feared of your Grace."
+
+"Well said.  Not that thou shouldst make much difference.  Had I a mind
+to fight for the door or the window, I could soon be quit of such a
+white-faced chit as thou.  Ah me! to what end?  That time is by, for me.
+Well! so they went off in grand array?  I saw them.  If Godfrey
+Foljambe buy his wife a new quirle, and his daughter-in-law a new gown,
+every time they cry for it, he shall be at the end of his purse ere my
+cushion yonder be finished broidering.  Lack-a-day!  I would one of you
+would make an end thereof.  I am aweary of the whole thing.  Green and
+tawny and red--red and tawny and green; tent-stitch down here, and
+satin-stitch up yonder.  And what good when done?  There's a
+cushion-cover more in the world; that is all.  Would God--ah, would God,
+from the bottom of mine heart, that there were but one weary woman
+less!"
+
+"My dear Lady!" said Perrote, sympathisingly.
+
+"Ay, old woman, I know.  Thou wouldst fain ask, Whither should I go?  I
+know little, verily, and care less.  Only let me lie down and sleep for
+ever, and forget everything--I ask but so much.  I think God might let
+me have that.  One has to wake ever, here, to another dreary day.  If
+man might but sleep and not wake! or--ah, if man could blot out thirty
+years, and I sit once more in my mail on my Feraunt at the gate of
+Hennebon!  Dreams, dreams, all empty dreams!  Come, child, and lay by
+this wimple.  'Tis man's duty to hie him abed now.  Let's do our duty.
+'Tis all man has left to me--leave to do as I am bidden.  What was that
+bruit I heard without, an half-hour gone?"
+
+Amphillis, in answer, for Perrote was unable to speak, told the story of
+Agatha's mischievous trick.  The Countess laughed.
+
+"'Tis right the thing I should have done myself, as a young maid," said
+she.  "Ay, I loved dearly to make lordly, sober folks look foolish.
+Poor Father Jordan, howbeit, was scarce fit game for her crossbow.  If
+she had brought Avena Foljambe down, I'd have given her a clap on the
+back.  Now, maid, let us see how thou canst braid up this old white hair
+for the pillow.  It was jet black once, and fell right to my feet.  I
+little thought, then--I little thought!"
+
+The _coucher_ accomplished, the Countess lay down in her bed; Perrote
+took leave of her, and put out the light, admonishing Amphillis to be
+quick.  Then she left the room, locking the door after her.
+
+"There!" said the voice of the Countess through the darkness.  "Now then
+we are prisoners, thou and I.  How doth it like thee?"
+
+"It liketh me well, Dame, if so I may serve your Grace."
+
+"Well said!  Thou shalt be meet for the Court ere long.  But, child,
+thou hast not borne years of it, as I have: sixteen years with a hope of
+release, and eight with none.  Tell me thy history: I have no list to
+sleep, and it shall pass the time."
+
+"If it may please your Grace, I reckon I have had none."
+
+"Thou wert best thank the saints for that.  Yet I count 'tis scarce
+thus.  Didst grow like a mushroom?"
+
+"Truly, no, Dame," said Amphillis, with a little laugh.  "But I fear it
+should ill repay your Grace to hear that I fed chickens and milked cows,
+and baked patties of divers sorts."
+
+"It should well repay me.  It were a change from blue silk and yellow
+twist, and one endless view from the window.  Fare forth!"
+
+Thus bidden, Amphillis told her story as she lay in the pallet,
+uninterrupted save now and then by a laugh or a word of comment.  It was
+not much of a story, as she had said; but she was glad if it amused the
+royal prisoner, even for an hour.
+
+"Good maid!" said her mistress, when she saw that the tale was finished.
+"Now sleep thou, for I would not cut off a young maid from her rest.  I
+can sleep belike, or lie awake, as it please the saints."
+
+All was silence after that for half-an-hour.  Amphillis had just dropped
+asleep, when she was roused again by a low sound, of what nature she
+knew not at first.  Then she was suddenly conscious that the porter's
+watch-dog, Colle, was keeping up a low, uneasy growl beneath the window,
+and that somebody was trying to hush him.  Amphillis lay and listened,
+wondering whether it were some further nonsense of Agatha's manufacture.
+Then came the sound of angry words and hurrying feet, and a woman's
+shrill scream.
+
+"What ado is there?" asked the Countess.  "Draw back the curtain,
+Phyllis, and see."
+
+Amphillis sprang up, ran lightly with bare feet across the chamber, and
+drew back the curtain.  The full harvest moon was shining into the inner
+court, and she discerned eight black shadows, all mixed together in what
+was evidently a struggle of some kind, the only one distinguishable
+being that of Colle, who was as busy and excited as any of the group.
+At length she saw one of the shadows get free from the others, and speed
+rapidly to the wall, pursued by the dog, which, however, could not
+prevent his escape over the wall.  The other shadows had a further short
+scuffle, at the end of which two seemed to be driven into the outer yard
+by the five, and Amphillis lost sight of them.  She told her mistress
+what she saw.
+
+"Some drunken brawl amongst the retainers, most like," said the
+Countess.  "Come back to thy bed, maid; 'tis no concern of thine."
+
+Amphillis obeyed, and silence fell upon the house.  The next thing of
+which she was conscious was Perrote's entrance in the morning.
+
+"What caused yon bruit in the night?" asked the Countess, as Amphillis
+was dressing her hair.
+
+"Dame," said Perrote, "it was an attack upon the house."
+
+"An attack?"  The Countess turned suddenly round, drawing her hair out
+of her tirewoman's hands.  "After what fashion? thieves? robbers? foes?
+Come, tell me all about it."
+
+"I scantly know, Dame, how far I may lightly tell," said Perrote,
+uneasily.  "It were better to await Sir Godfrey's return, ere much be
+said thereanentis."
+
+The Countess fixed her keen black eyes on her old attendant.
+
+"The which means," said she, "that the matter has too much ado with me
+that I should be suffered to know the inwards thereof.  Perrote, was it
+that man essayed once more to free me?  Thou mayest well tell me, for I
+know it.  The angels whispered it to me as I lay in my bed."
+
+"My dear Lady, it was thus.  Pray you, be not troubled: if so were,
+should you be any better off than now?"
+
+"Mary, Mother!"  With that wail of pain the Countess turned back to her
+toilet.  "Who was it? and how?  Tell me what thou wist."
+
+Perrote considered a moment, and then answered the questions.
+
+"Your Grace hath mind of the two pedlars that came hither a few days
+gone?"
+
+"One of whom sold yon violet twist, the illest stuff that ever threaded
+needle?  He had need be 'shamed of himself.  Ay: well?"
+
+"Dame, he was no pedlar at all, but Sir Roland de Pencouet, a knight of
+Bretagne."
+
+"Ha! one of Oliver Clisson's following, or I err.  Ay?"
+
+A look of intense interest had driven out the usual weary listlessness
+in the black eyes.
+
+"Which had thus disguised him in order to essay the freeing of your
+Grace."
+
+"I am at peace with him, then, for his caitiff twist.  Knights make ill
+tradesmen, I doubt not.  Poor fool, to think he could do any such thing!
+What befell him?"
+
+"With him, Dame, were two other--Ivo filz Jehan, yon little Breton
+jeweller that was used to trade at Hennebon; I know not if your Grace
+have mind of him--"
+
+"Ay, I remember him."
+
+"And also a priest, named Father Eloy.  The priest won clean away over
+the wall; only Mark saith that Colle hath a piece of his hose for a
+remembrance.  Sir Roland and Ivo were taken, and be lodged in the
+dungeon."
+
+"Poor fools!" said the Countess again.  "O Perrote, Perrote, to be
+free!"
+
+"Dear my Lady, should it be better with you than now?"
+
+"What wist thou?  To have the right to go right or left, as man would;
+to pluck the flowerets by the roadside at will; to throw man upon the
+grass, and breathe the free air; to speak with whom man would; to feel
+the heaving of the salt sea under man's boat, and to hear the clash of
+arms and see the chargers and the swords and the nodding plumes file out
+of the postern--O Perrote, Perrote!"
+
+"Mine own dear mistress, would I might compass it for you!"
+
+"I know thou dost.  And thou canst not.  But wherefore doth not God
+compass it?  Can He not do what He will?  Be wrong and cruelty and
+injustice what He would?  Doth He hate me, that He leaveth me thus to
+live and die like a rat in a hole?  And wherefore?  What have I done?  I
+am no worser sinner than thousands of other men and women.  I never
+stole, nor murdered, nor sware falsely; I was true woman to God and to
+my lord, and true mother to the lad that they keep from me; ay, and true
+friend to Lord Edward the King, that cares not a brass nail whether I
+live or die--only that if I died he would be quit of a burden.  Holy
+saints, but I would full willingly quit him of it!  God! when I ask Thee
+for nought costlier than death, canst Thou not grant it to me?"
+
+She looked like an inspired prophetess, that tall white-haired woman,
+lifting her face up to the morning sun, as if addressing through it the
+Eternal Light, and challenging the love and wisdom of His decrees.
+Amphillis shrank back from her.  Perrote came a little nearer.
+
+"God is wiser than His creatures," she said.
+
+"Words, words, Perrote!  Only words.  And I have heard them all
+aforetime, and many a time o'er.  If I could but come at Him, I'd see if
+He could not tell me somewhat better."
+
+"Ay," said Perrote, with a sigh; "if we could all but come at Him!  Dear
+my Lady--"
+
+"Cross thyself, old woman, and have done.  When I lack an homily
+preacher, I'll send for a priest.  My wimple, Phyllis.  When comes Sir
+Godfrey back?"
+
+"Saturday shall be a week, Dame."
+
+Sir Godfrey came back in a bad temper.  He had been overcome at the
+tournament, which in itself was not pacifying; and he was extremely
+angry to hear of the unsuccessful attempt to set his prisoner free.  He
+scolded everybody impartially all round, but especially Matthew and
+Father Jordan, the latter of whom was very little to blame, since he was
+not only rather deaf, but he slept on the other side of the house, and
+had never heard the noise at all.  Matthew growled that if he had calmly
+marched the conspirators up to the prisoner's chamber, and delivered her
+to them, his father could scarcely have treated him worse; whereas he
+had safely secured two out of the three, and the prisoner had never been
+in any danger.
+
+Kate had been captured as well as the conspirators, and instead of
+receiving the promised crespine, she was bitterly rueing her folly,
+locked in a small turret room whose only furniture was a bundle of straw
+and a rug, with the pleasing prospect of worse usage when her mistress
+should return.  The morning after their arrival at home, Lady Foljambe
+marched up to the turret, armed with a formidable cane, wherewith she
+inflicted on poor Kate a sound discipline.  Pleading, sobs, and even
+screams fell on her ears with as little impression as would have been
+caused by the buzzing of a fly.  Having finished her proceeding, she
+administered to the suffering culprit a short, sharp lecture, and then
+locked her up again to think it over, with bread and water as the only
+relief to meditation.
+
+The King was expected to come North after Parliament rose--somewhere
+about the following February; and Sir Godfrey wrathfully averred that he
+should deal with the conspirators himself.  The length of time that a
+prisoner was kept awaiting trial was a matter of supremely little
+consequence in the Middle Ages.  His Majesty reached Derby, on his way
+to York, in the early days of March, and slept for one night at
+Hazelwood Manor, disposing of the prisoners the next morning, before he
+resumed his journey.
+
+Nobody at Hazelwood wished to live that week over again.  The King
+brought a suite of fourteen gentlemen, beside his guard; and they all
+had to be lodged somehow.  Perrote, Amphillis, Lady Foljambe, and Mrs
+Margaret slept in the Countess's chamber.
+
+"The more the merrier," said the prisoner, sarcastically.  "Prithee,
+Avena, see that the King quit not this house without he hath a word with
+me.  I have a truth or twain to tell him."
+
+But the King declined the interview.  Perhaps it was on account of an
+uneasy suspicion concerning that truth or twain which might be told him.
+For fifty years Edward the Third swayed the sceptre of England, and his
+rule, upon the whole, was just and gentle.  Two sore sins lie at his
+door--the murder of his brother, in a sudden outburst of most righteous
+indignation; and the long, dreary captivity of the prisoner of Tickhill
+and Hazelwood, who had done nothing to deserve it.  Considering what a
+mother he had, perhaps the cause for wonder is that in the main he did
+so well, rather than that on some occasions he acted very wrongly.  The
+frequent wars of this King were all foreign ones, and under his
+government England was at rest.  That long, quiet reign was now drawing
+near its close.  The King had not yet sunk into the sad state of senile
+dementia, wherein he ended his life; but he was an infirm, tired old
+man, bereft of his other self, his bright and loving wife, who had left
+him and the world about four years earlier.  He exerted himself a little
+at supper to make himself agreeable to the ladies, as was then held to
+be the bounden duty of a good knight; but after supper he enjoyed a
+peaceful slumber, with a handkerchief over his face to keep away the
+flies.  The two prisoners were speedily disposed of, by being sent in
+chains to the Duke of Bretagne, to be dealt with as he should think fit.
+The King seemed rather amused than angered by Kate's share in the
+matter: he had the terrified girl up before him, talked to her in a
+fatherly fashion, and ended by giving her a crown-piece with his own
+hand, and bidding her in the future be a good and loyal maid, and not
+suffer herself to be beguiled by the wiles of evil men.  Poor Kate
+sobbed, promised, and louted confusedly; and in due course of time, when
+King Edward had been long in his grave, and Kate was a staid
+grandmother, the crown-piece held the place of honour on her son's chest
+of drawers as a prized family heirloom.
+
+The next event of any note, a few weeks afterwards, was Marabel's
+marriage.  In those days, young girls of good family, instead of being
+sent to school, were placed with some married lady as bower-women or
+chamberers, to be first educated and then married.  The mistress was
+expected to make the one her care as much as the other; and it was not
+considered any concern of the girl's except to obey.  The husband was
+provided by the mistress, along with the wedding-dress and the
+wedding-dinner; and the bride meekly accepted all three with becoming
+thankfulness--or at least was expected to do so.
+
+The new chamberer, who came in Marabel's place, was named Ricarda; the
+girls were told this one evening at supper-time, and informed that she
+would arrive on the morrow.  Her place at table was next below
+Amphillis, who was greatly astonished to be asked, as she sat down to
+supper--
+
+"Well, Phyllis, what hast thou to say to me?"
+
+Amphillis turned and gazed at the speaker.
+
+"Well?" repeated the latter.  "Thou hast seen me before."
+
+"Ricarda!  How ever chanceth it?"
+
+The astonishment of Amphillis was intense.  The rules of etiquette at
+that time were chains indeed; and the daughter of a tradesman was not in
+a position to be bower-woman to a lady of title.  How had her cousin
+come there?
+
+"What sayest, then," asked Ricarda, with a triumphant smile, "to know
+that my Lady Foljambe sent to covenant with me by reason that she was so
+full fain of thee that she desired another of thy kin?"
+
+"Is it soothly thus?" replied Amphillis, her surprise scarcely lessened
+by hearing of such unusual conduct on the part of the precise Lady
+Foljambe.  "Verily, but--And how do my good master mine uncle, and my
+good cousin Alexandra?"
+
+"Saundrina's wed, and so is my father.  And Saundrina leads Clement a
+life, and Mistress Altham leads my father another.  I was none so sorry
+to come away, I can tell thee.  I hate to be ruled like a ledger and
+notched like a tally!"
+
+"Thou shalt find things be well ruled in this house, Rica," said
+Amphillis, thinking to herself that Ricarda and Agatha would make a
+pair, and might give their mistress some trouble.  "But whom hath mine
+uncle wed, that is thus unbuxom [disobedient] to him?"
+
+"Why, Mistress Regina, the goldsmith's daughter, that counts herself
+worth us all, and would fain be a queen in the patty-shop, and cut us
+all out according to her will."
+
+"But, Ricarda, I reckoned Mistress Regina a full good and wise woman."
+
+"`Good and wise!'  She may soon be so.  I hate goodness and wisdom.
+There's never a bit of jollity for her.  'Tis all `thou shalt not.'  She
+might as well be the Ten Commandments and done with it."
+
+"Wouldst thou fain not keep the Ten Commandments, Rica?"
+
+"I'd fain have my own way, and be jolly.  Oh, she keeps the house well
+enough.  Father saith he's tenfold more comfortable sithence her
+coming."
+
+"I thought thou saidst she led him an ill, diseaseful [Note 1] life?"
+
+"Well, so did I.  Father didn't."
+
+"Oh!" said Amphillis, in an enlightened tone.
+
+"And she's a rare hand at the cooking, that will I say.  She might have
+made patties all her life.  She catches up everything afore you can say
+`Jack Robinson.'  She says it's by reason she's a Dutchwoman [Note 2].
+Rubbish! as if a lot of nasty foreigners could do aught better, or half
+as well, as English folks!"
+
+"Be all foreigners nasty?" asked Amphillis, thinking of her mistress.
+
+"Of course they be!  Phyllis, what's come o'er thee?"
+
+"I knew not anything had."
+
+"Lack-a-day! thou art tenfold as covenable and deliver [Note 3] as thou
+wert wont to be.  Derbyshire hath brightened up thy wits."
+
+Amphillis smiled.  Privately, she thought that if her wits were
+brightened, it was mainly by being let alone and allowed to develop free
+of perpetual repression.
+
+"I have done nought to bring the same about, Ricarda.  But must I
+conceive that Master Winkfield's diseaseful life, then, is in thine
+eyes, or in his own?"
+
+"He reckons himself the blissfullest man under the sun," said Ricarda,
+as they rose from the table: "and he dare not say his soul is his own;
+not for no price man should pay him."
+
+Amphillis privately thought the bliss of a curious kind.
+
+"Phyllis!" said her cousin, suddenly, "hast learned to hold thy tongue?"
+
+"I count I am metely well learned therein, Rica."
+
+"Well, mind thou, not for nothing of no sort to let on to my Lady that
+Father is a patty-maker.  I were put forth of the door with no more ado,
+should it come to her ear that I am not of gentle blood like thee."
+
+"Ricarda!  Is my Lady, then, deceived thereon?"
+
+"'Sh--'sh!  She thinks I am a Neville, and thy cousin of the father's
+side.  Thee hold thy peace, and all shall be well."
+
+"But, Rica! that were to tell a lie."
+
+"Never a bit of it!  Man can't tell a lie by holding his peace."
+
+"Nay, I am not so sure thereof as I would like.  This I know, he may
+speak one by his life no lesser than his words."
+
+"Amphillis, if thou blurt out this to my Lady, I'll hate thee for ever
+and ever, Amen!" said Ricarda.
+
+"I must meditate thereon," was her cousin's answer.  "Soothly, I would
+not by my good will do thee an ill turn, Rica; and if it may stand with
+my conscience to be silent, thou hast nought to fear.  Yet if my Lady
+ask me aught touching thee, that may not be thus answered, I must speak
+truth, and no lie."
+
+"A murrain take thy conscience!  Canst not say a two-three times the
+Rosary of our Lady to ease it?"
+
+"Maybe," said Amphillis, drily, "our Lady hath no more lore for lying
+than I have."
+
+"Mistress Ricarda!" said Agatha, joining them as they rose from the
+table, "I do right heartily pray you of better acquaintance.  I trust
+you and I be of the same fashion of thinking, and both love laughter
+better than tears."
+
+"In good sooth, I hate long faces and sad looks," said Ricarda,
+accepting Agatha's offered kiss of friendship.
+
+"You be not an ill-matched pair," added Amphillis, laughing.  "Only, I
+pray you, upset not the quirle by over much prancing."
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  Still used in its original sense of uncomfortable.
+
+Note 2.  The Dutch were then known as High Dutch, the Germans as Low
+Dutch.
+
+Note 3.  Agreeable and ready in conversation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+BEATEN BACK.
+
+  "I know not why my path should be at times
+  So straitly hedged, so strangely barred before:
+  I only know God could keep wide the door;
+  But I can trust."
+
+"Mistress Perrote, I pray you counsel me.  I am sore put to it to baffle
+my cousin's inquirations touching our Lady.  How she cometh to know
+there is any such cannot I say; but I may lightly guess that Agatha hath
+let it 'scape: and in old days mine uncle was wont to say, none never
+could keep hidlis [secrets] from Ricarda.  Truly, might I have known
+aforehand my Lady Foljambe's pleasure, I could have found to mine hand
+to pray her not to advance Ricarda hither: not for that I would stand in
+her way, but for my Lady's sake herself."
+
+"I know.  Nay, as well not, Phyllis.  It should tend rather to thine own
+disease, for folk might lightly say thou wert jealous and unkindly to
+thy kin.  The Lord knoweth wherefore such things do hap.  At times I
+think it be to prevent us from being here in earth more blissful than it
+were good for us to be.  As for her inquirations, parry them as best
+thou mayest; and if thou canst not, then say apertly [openly] that thou
+art forbidden to hold discourse thereanentis."
+
+Amphillis shook her head.  She pretty well knew that such an assertion
+would whet Ricarda's curiosity, and increase her inquisitive queries.
+
+"Mistress Perrote, are you ill at ease?"
+
+"Not in health, thank God.  But I am heavy of heart, child.  Our Lady is
+in evil case, and she is very old."
+
+We should not now call a woman very old who was barely sixty years of
+age; we scarcely think that more than elderly.  But in 1373, when the
+numerous wars and insurrections of the earlier half of the century had
+almost decimated the population, so that, especially in the upper
+classes, an old man was rarely to be seen, and when also human life was
+usually shorter than in later times, sixty was the equivalent of eighty
+or ninety with us, while seventy was as wonderful as we think a hundred.
+King Edward was in his second childhood when he died at sixty-five;
+while "old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster," scarcely passed his
+fifty-ninth birthday.
+
+"Is she sick?" said Amphillis, pityingly.  She had not seen her mistress
+for several days, for her periods of attendance on her were fitful and
+uncertain.
+
+"She is very sick, and Father Jordan hath tried his best."
+
+The household doctor at that time, for a country house, was either the
+mistress of the family or the confessor.  There were few medical men who
+were not also priests, and they only lived in chief cities.  Ladies were
+taught physic and surgery, and often doctored a whole neighbourhood.  In
+a town the druggist was usually consulted by the poor, if they consulted
+any one at all who had learned medicine; but the physicians most in
+favour were "white witches," namely, old women who dealt in herbs and
+charms, the former of which were real remedies, and the latter
+heathenish nonsense.  A great deal of superstition mixed with the
+practice of the best medical men of the day.  Herbs must be gathered
+when the moon was at the full, or when Mercury was in the ascendant;
+patients who had the small-pox must be wrapped in scarlet; the
+blood-stone preserved its wearer from particular maladies; a hair from a
+saint's beard, taken in water, was deemed an invaluable specific.  They
+bled to restore strength, administered plasters of verdigris, and made
+their patients wait for a lucky day to begin a course of treatment.
+
+"He hath given her," pursued Perrote, sorrowfully, "myrrh and milelot
+and tutio [oxide of zinc], and hath tried plasters of diachylon,
+litharge, and ceruse, but to no good purpose.  He speaketh now of
+antimony and orchis, but I fear--I fear he can give nothing to do any
+good.  When our Lord saith `Die,' not all the help nor love in the world
+shall make man live.  And I think her time is come."
+
+"O Mistress Perrote! must she die without deliverance?"
+
+"Without earthly deliverance, it is like, my maid.  Be it so.  But, ah
+me, what if she die without the heavenly deliverance!  She will not list
+me: she never would.  If man would come by that she would list, and
+might be suffered so to do, I would thank God to the end of my days."
+
+"Anentis what should she list, good Mistress?"
+
+"Phyllis, she hath never yet made acquaintance with Christ our Lord.  He
+is to her but a dead name set to the end of her prayers--an image nailed
+to a cross--a man whom she has heard tell of, but never saw.  The
+living, loving Lord, who died and rose for her--who is ready at this
+hour to be her best Friend and dearest Comforter--who is holding forth
+His hands to her, as to all of us, and entreating her to come to Him and
+be saved--she looketh on Him as she doth on Constantine the Great, as
+man that was good and powerful once, but long ago, and 'tis all over and
+done with.  I would fain have her hear man speak of Him that knoweth
+Him."
+
+"Father Jordan, Mistress?"
+
+"No.  Father Jordan knows about Him.  He knoweth Him not--at the least
+not so well as I want.  Ay, I count he doth know Him after a fashion;
+but 'tis a poor fashion.  I want a better man than he, and I want leave
+for him to come at her.  And me feareth very sore that I shall win
+neither."
+
+"Shall we ask our Lord for it?" said Amphillis, shyly.
+
+"So do, dear maid.  Thy faith shameth mine unbelief."
+
+"What shall I say, Mistress?"
+
+"Say, `Lord, send hither man that knoweth Thee, and incline the hearts
+of them in authority to suffer him to come at our Lady.'  I will speak
+yet again with Sir Godfrey, but I might well-nigh as good speak to the
+door-post: he is as hard, and he knows as little.  And her time is very
+near."
+
+There were tears in Perrote's eyes as she went away, and Amphillis
+entirely sympathised with her.  She was coming to realise the paramount
+importance to every human soul of that personal acquaintance with Jesus
+Christ, which is the one matter of consequence to all who have felt the
+power of an endless life.  The natural result of this was that lesser
+matters fell into their right place without any difficulty.  There was
+no troubling "May I do this?" or "How far is it allowable to enjoy
+that?"  If this were contrary to the mind of God, or if that grated on
+the spiritual taste, it simply could not be done, any more than
+something could be done which would grieve a beloved human friend, or
+could be eaten with relish if it were ill-flavoured and disgusting.  But
+suppose the relish does remain?  Then, either the conscience is
+ill-informed and scrupulous, requiring enlightenment by the Word of God,
+and the heart setting at liberty; or else--and more frequently--the
+acquaintance is not close enough, and the new affection not sufficiently
+deep to have "expulsive power" over the old.  In either case, the remedy
+is to come nearer to the Great Physician, to drink deeper draughts of
+the water of life, to warm the numbed soul in the pure rays of the Sun
+of Righteousness.  "If any man thirst, let him _come unto Me_ and
+drink,"--not stay away, hewing out for himself broken cisterns which can
+hold no water.  How many will not come to Christ for rest, until they
+have first tried in vain to rest their heads upon every hard stone and
+every thorny plant that the world has to offer!  For the world can give
+no rest--only varieties of weariness are in its power to offer those who
+do not bring fresh hearts and eager eyes, as yet unwearied and unfilled.
+For those who do, it has gay music, and sparkling sweet wine, and
+gleaming gems of many a lovely hue: and they listen, and drink, and
+admire, and think there is no bliss beyond it.  But when the eager eyes
+grow dim, and the ears are dulled, and the taste has departed, the tired
+heart demands rest, and the world has none for it.  A worn-out
+worldling, whom the world has ceased to charm, is one of the most
+pitiable creatures alive.
+
+Sir Godfrey Foljambe had not arrived at that point; he was in a
+condition less unhappy, but quite as perilous.  To him the world had
+offered a fresh apple of Sodom, and he had grasped it as eagerly as the
+first.  The prodigal son was in a better condition when he grew weary of
+the strange country, than while he was spending his substance on riotous
+living.  Sir Godfrey had laid aside the riotous living, but he was not
+weary of the strange country.  On the contrary, when he ran short of
+food, he tried the swine's husks, and found them very palatable--
+decidedly preferable to going home.  He put bitter for sweet, and sweet
+for bitter.  The liberty wherewith Christ would have made him free was
+considered as a yoke of bondage, while the strong chains in which Satan
+held him were perfect freedom in his estimation.
+
+It was not with any hope that he would either understand or grant her
+request that Perrote made a last application to her lady's gaoler.  It
+was only because she felt the matter of such supreme importance, the
+time so short, and the necessity so imperative, that no fault of hers
+should be a hindrance.  Perhaps, too, down in those dim recesses of the
+human heart which lie so open to God, but scarcely read by man himself,
+there was a mustard-seed of faith--a faint "Who can tell?" which did not
+rise to hope--and certainly a love ready to endure all if it might gain
+its blessed end.
+
+"Sir," said Perrote, "I entreat a moment's speech of you."
+
+Sir Godfrey, who was sauntering under the trees in the garden, stopped
+and looked at her.  Had he spoken out his thoughts, he would have said,
+"What on earth does this bothering old woman want?"  As it was, he stood
+silent, and waited for her to proceed.
+
+"Sir, my Lady is full sick."
+
+"Well! let Father Jordan see her."
+
+"He hath seen her, Sir, and full little can he do."
+
+"What would you?  No outer physician can be called in."
+
+"Ah, Sir, forgive me, but I am thinking rather of the soul than the
+body: it is the worser of the twain."
+
+"Verily, I guess not how, for she should be hard put to it to commit
+mortal sin, when mewed for eight years in one chamber.  Howbeit, if so
+be, what then?  Is not Father Jordan a priest?  One priest is full as
+good as another."
+
+"Once more, forgive me, Sir!  For the need that I behold, one priest is
+not as good as another.  It is not a mass that my Lady needeth to be
+sung; it is counsel that she lacketh."
+
+"Then let Father Jordan counsel her."
+
+"Sir, he cannot."
+
+"Cannot!  What for, trow?  Hath he lost his wits or his tongue?"
+
+"No, he hath lost nothing, for that which he lacketh I count he never
+had, or so little thereof that it serveth not in this case.  Man cannot
+sound a fathom with an inch-line.  Sir, whether you conceive me or not,
+whether you allow me or no, I do most earnestly entreat you to suffer
+that my Lady may speak with one of the poor priests that go about in
+frieze coats bound with leather girdles.  They have whereof to minister
+to her need."
+
+Sir Godfrey thought contemptuously that there was no end to the fads and
+fancies of old women.  His first idea of a reply was to say decidedly
+that it was not possible to trust any outsider with the cherished secret
+of the Countess's hiding-place; his next, that the poor priests were in
+tolerably high favour with the great, that the King had commanded the
+prisoner to be well treated, that the priest might be sworn to secrecy,
+and that if the Countess were really near her end, little mischief would
+be done.  Possibly, in his inner soul, too, a power was at work which he
+was not capable of recognising.
+
+"Humph!" was all he said; but Perrote saw that she had made an
+impression, and she was too wise to weaken it by adding words.  Sir
+Godfrey, with his hands in the pockets of his _haut-de-chausses_, took a
+turn under the trees, and came back to the suppliant.  "Where be they to
+be found?"
+
+"Sir, there is well-nigh certain to be one or more at Derby.  If it
+pleased you to send to the Prior of Saint Mary there, or to your own
+Abbey of Darley, there were very like to be one tarrying on his way, or
+might soon come thither; and if, under your good leave, the holy Father
+would cause him to swear secrecy touching all he might see or hear, no
+mischief should be like to hap by his coming."
+
+"Humph!" said Sir Godfrey again.  "I'll meditate thereon."
+
+"Sir, I give you right hearty thanks," was the grateful answer of
+Perrote, who had taken more by her motion than she expected.
+
+As she passed from the inner court to the outer on her way to the hall,
+where supper would shortly be served, she heard a little noise and
+bustle of some sort at the gate.  Perrote stopped to look.
+
+Before the gate, on a richly-caparisoned mule, sat the Abbot of Darley,
+with four of his monks, also mounted on those ecclesiastical animals.
+The porter, his keys in his hand, was bowing low in reverential awe, for
+an abbot was only a step below a bishop, and both were deemed holy and
+spiritual men.  Unquestionably there were men among them who were both
+spiritual and holy, but they were considerably fewer than the general
+populace believed.  The majority belonged to one of four types--the
+dry-as-dust scholar, the austere ascetic, the proud tyrant, or the
+jovial _ton vivant_.  The first-class, which was the best, was not a
+large one; the other three were much more numerous.  The present Abbot
+of Darley was a mixture of the two last-named, and could put on either
+at will, the man being jovial by nature, and the abbot haughty by
+training.  He had now come to spend a night at Hazelwood on his way from
+Darley to Leicester; for the Foljambes were lords of Darley Manor, and
+many of them had been benefactors to the abbey in their time.  It was
+desirable, for many reasons, that Sir Godfrey and the Abbot should keep
+on friendly terms.  Perrote stepped back to tell the knight who stood at
+his gate, and he at once hastened forward with a cordial welcome.
+
+The Abbot blessed Sir Godfrey by the extension of two priestly fingers
+in a style which must require considerable practice, and, in tones which
+savoured somewhat more of pride than humility, informed him that he came
+to beg a lodging for himself and his monks for one night.  Sir Godfrey
+knew, he said, that poor monks, who abjured the vanities of the world,
+were not accustomed to grandeur; a little straw and some coarse rugs
+were all they asked.  Had the Abbot been taken at his word, he would
+have been much astonished; but he well knew that the best bedchambers in
+the Manor House would be thought honoured by his use of them.  His
+Reverence alighted from his mule, and, followed by the four monks, was
+led into the hall, his bareheaded and obsequious host preceding them.
+The ladies, who were assembling for supper, dropped on their knees at
+the sight, and also received a priestly blessing.  The Abbot was
+conducted to the seat of honour, on Sir Godfrey's right hand.
+
+The servers now brought in supper.  It was a vigil, and therefore meat,
+eggs, and butter were forbidden; but luxury, apart from these, being
+unforbidden to such as preferred the letter to the spirit, the meal was
+sufficiently appetising, notwithstanding this.  Beside some fishes whose
+names are inscrutable, our ancestors at this time ate nearly all we
+habitually use, and in addition, whelks, porpoises, and lampreys.  There
+were soups made of apples, figs, beans, peas, gourds, rice, and wheat.
+Fish pies and fruit pies, jellies, honey cakes and tarts, biscuits of
+all descriptions, including maccaroons and gingerbread, vegetables far
+more numerous than we use, salads, cucumbers, melons, and all fruits in
+season, puddings of semolina, millet, and rice, almonds, spices,
+pickles--went to make up a _menu_ by no means despicable.
+
+Supper was half over when Sir Godfrey bethought himself of Perrote's
+appeal and suggestion.
+
+"Pray you, holy Father," said he, "have you in your abbey at this season
+any of them called the poor priests, or know you where they may be
+found?"
+
+The Abbot's lips took such a setting as rather alarmed his host, who
+began to wish his question unasked.
+
+"I pray you of pardon if I ask unwisely," he hastily added.  "I had
+thought these men were somewhat in good favour in high place at this
+time, and though I desire not at all to--"
+
+"Wheresoever is my Lady Princess, there shall the poor priests find
+favour," said the Abbot, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.  "The
+King, too, is not ill-affected toward them.  But I forewarn you, my son,
+that they be not over well liked of the Church and the dignitaries
+thereof.  They go about setting men by the ears, bringing down to the
+minds of the commoner sort high matters that are not meet for such to
+handle, and inciting them to chatter and gabble over holy things in
+unseemly wise.  Whereso they preach, 'tis said, the very women will
+leave their distaffs, and begin to talk of sacred matter--most
+unbecoming and scandalous it is!  I avise you, my son, to have none ado
+with such, and to keep to the wholesome direction of your own priest,
+which shall be far more to your profit."
+
+"I cry you mercy, reverend Father!  Truly it was not of mine own motion
+that I asked the same.  'Twas a woman did excite me thereto, seeing--"
+
+"That may I well believe," said the Abbot, contemptuously.  "Women be
+ever at the bottom of every ill thing under the sun."
+
+Poor man! he knew nothing about them.  How could he, when he was taught
+that they were unclean creatures with whom it was defilement to
+converse?  And he could not remember his mother--the one womanly memory
+which might have saved him from the delusion.
+
+Sir Godfrey, in his earnest anxiety to get out of the scrape into which
+Perrote had brought him, hastily introduced a fresh topic as the easiest
+means of doing so.
+
+"Trust me, holy Father, I will suffer nought harmful to enter my doors,
+nor any man disapproved by your Lordship.  Is there news abroad, may man
+wit?"
+
+"Ay, we had last night an holy palmer in our abbey," responded the
+Abbot, with a calmer brow.  "He left us this morrow on his way to
+Jesmond.  You wist, doubtless, that my Lord of York is departed?"
+
+"No, verily--my Lord of York!  Is yet any successor appointed?"
+
+"Ay, so 'tis said--Father Neville, as men say."
+
+Amphillis looked up with some interest, on hearing her own name.
+
+"Who is he, this Father Neville?"
+
+"Soothly, who is he?" repeated the Abbot, with evident irritation.
+"Brother to my Lord Neville of Raby; but what hath he done, trow, to be
+advanced thus without merit unto the second mitre in the realm?  Some
+meaner bishop, or worthy abbot, should have been far fitter for the
+preferment."
+
+"The worthy Abbot of Darley in especial!" whispered Agatha in the ear of
+Amphillis.
+
+"What manner of man is he, holy Father, by your leave?"
+
+"One of these new sectaries," replied the Abbot, irascibly.  "A man that
+favours the poor priests of whom you spake, and swears by the Rector of
+Ludgarshall, this Wycliffe, that maketh all this bruit.  Prithee, who is
+the Rector of Ludgarshall, that we must all be at his beck and ordering?
+Was there no truth in the whole Church Catholic, these thirteen hundred
+years, that this Dan John must claim for to have discovered it anew?
+Pshaw! 'tis folly."
+
+"And what other tidings be there, pray you, holy Father?"
+
+"Scarce aught beside of note, I think," answered the Abbot,
+meditatively--"without it be the news from Brittany of late--'tis said
+all Brittany is in revolt, and the King of France aiding the same, and
+the Duke is fled over hither to King Edward, leaving my Lady Duchess
+shut up in the Castle of Auray, which 'tis thought the French King shall
+besiege.  Man reckons he comes for little--I would say, that our King
+shall give him little ado over that matter, without it were to ransom my
+Lady, should she be taken, she being step-daughter unto my Lord Prince."
+
+"The Lord King, then, showeth him no great favour?"
+
+"Favour enough to his particular [to himself personally]; but you will
+quickly judge there is little likelihood of a new army fitted out for
+Brittany, when you hear that his Grace writ to my Lord Archbishop of
+Canterbury that he should in no wise submit to the tax laid on the
+clergy by my Lord Cardinal of Cluny, that came o'er touching those
+affairs, and charged the expenses of his journey on the clergy of
+England.  The King gave promise to stand by them in case they should
+resist, and bade them take no heed of the censure of the said Nuncio,
+seeing the people of England were not concerned touching matters of
+Brittany; and where the cause, quoth he, is so unjust, the curse must
+needs fall harmless."
+
+"Brave words, in good sooth!" said young Godfrey.
+
+"Ay, our Lord the King is not he that shall suffer man to ride roughshod
+over him," added his father.
+
+"The which is full well in case of laymen," said the Abbot, a little
+severely; "yet it becometh even princes to be buxom and reverent to the
+Church, and unto all spiritual men."
+
+"If it might please you, holy Father, would you do so much grace as tell
+me where is my Lord Duke at this present?"
+
+It was Perrote who asked the question, and with evident uneasiness.
+
+The Abbot glanced at her, and then answered carelessly.  She was only
+one of the household, as he saw.  What did her anxiety matter to my Lord
+Abbot of Darley?
+
+"By my Lady Saint Mary, that wis I little," said he.  "At Windsor,
+maybe, or Woodstock--with the King."
+
+"The palmer told us the King was at Woodstock," remarked one of the
+hitherto silent monks.
+
+The Abbot annihilated him by a glance.
+
+"Verily, an' he were," remarked Sir Godfrey, "it should tell but little
+by now, when he may as like as not be at Winchester or Norwich."
+
+Our Plantagenet sovereigns were perpetual travellers up and down the
+kingdom, rarely staying even a fortnight in one place, though
+occasionally they were stationary for some weeks; but the old and infirm
+King who now occupied the throne had moved about less than usual of late
+years.
+
+Perrote was silent, but her face took a resolute expression, which Sir
+Godfrey had learned to his annoyance.  When the "bothering old woman"
+looked like that, she generally bothered him before he was much older.
+And Sir Godfrey, like many others of his species, detested being
+bothered.
+
+He soon found that fate remembered him.  As he was going up to bed that
+night, he found Perrote waiting for him on the landing.
+
+"Sir, pray you a word," said she.
+
+Sir Godfrey stood sulkily still.
+
+"If my Lord Duke be now in England, should he not know that his mother
+is near her end?"
+
+"How am I to send to him, trow?" growled the custodian.  "I wis not
+where he is."
+
+"A messenger could find out the Court, Sir," answered Perrote.  "And it
+would comfort her last days if he came."
+
+"And if he refused?"
+
+Perrote's dark eyes flashed fire.
+
+"Then may God have mercy on him!--if He have any mercy for such a
+heartless wretch as he should so be."
+
+"Keep a civil tongue in your head, Perrote de Carhaix," said Sir
+Godfrey, beginning to ascend the upper stair.  "You see, your poor
+priests are no good.  You'd better be quiet."
+
+Perrote stood still, candle in hand, till he disappeared.
+
+"I will be silent towards man," she said, in a low voice; "but I will
+pour out mine heart as water before the face of the Lord.  The road
+toward Heaven is alway open: and they whom men beat back and tread down
+are the most like to win ear of Him.  Make no tarrying, O my God!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+WHEREIN SUNDRY PEOPLE ACT FOOLISHLY.
+
+  "Why for the dead, who are at rest?
+  Pray for the living, in whose breast
+  The struggle between right and wrong
+  Is raging terrible and strong."
+
+  Longfellow.
+
+Amphillis Neville was a most unsuspicious person.  It never occurred to
+her to expect any one to do what, in his place, she would not have done;
+and all that she would have done was so simple and straightforward, that
+scheming of every sort was an impossible idea, until suggested by some
+one else.  She was consequently much surprised when Perrote said one
+evening--
+
+"Phyllis, I could find in mine heart to wish thy cousin had tarried
+hence."
+
+The discovery of Ricarda's deception was the only solution of this
+remark which presented itself to Amphillis, but her natural caution
+stood her in good stead, and she merely inquired her companion's
+meaning.
+
+"Hast not seen that she laboureth to catch Master Hylton into her net?"
+
+Thoughts, which were not all pleasant, chased one another through the
+mind of Amphillis.  If Ricarda were trying to win Norman Hylton, would
+she be so base as to leave him under the delusion that she was a
+Neville, possibly of the noble stock of the Lords of Raby?  Mr Hylton's
+friends, if not himself, would regard with unutterable scorn the idea of
+marriage with a confectioner's daughter.  He would be held to have
+demeaned himself to the verge of social extinction.  And somehow,
+somewhere, and for some reason--Amphillis pushed the question no further
+than this--the thought of assisting, by her silence, in the ruin of
+Norman Hylton, seemed much harder to bear than the prospect of being
+hated by Ricarda Altham, even though it were for ever and ever.  When
+these meditations had burned within her for a few seconds, Amphillis
+spoke.
+
+"Mistress Perrote, wit you how my cousin came hither?"
+
+"Why, by reason my Lady Foljambe sent to thine uncle, to ask at him if
+thou hadst any kin of the father's side, young maids of good birth and
+breeding, and of discreet conditions, that he should be willing to put
+forth hither with thee."
+
+Amphillis felt as if her mind were in a whirl.  Surely it was not
+possible that Mr Altham had known, far less shared, the dishonesty of
+his daughter?  She could not have believed her uncle capable of such
+meanness.
+
+"Sent to mine uncle?" seemed all that she could utter.
+
+"Ay, but thine uncle, as I heard say, was away when the messenger came,
+and he saw certain women of his house only."
+
+"Oh, then my uncle was not in the plot!" said Amphillis to herself with
+great satisfaction.
+
+"Maybe I speak wrongly," added Perrote, reflectively; "I guess he saw
+but one woman, a wedded cousin of thine, one Mistress Winkfield, who
+said she wist of a kinswoman of thine on the father's side that she was
+secure her father would gladly prefer, and she would have her up from
+Hertfordshire to see him, if he would call again that day week."
+
+How the conspiracy had been managed flashed on Amphillis at once.  Mr
+Altham was always from home on a Wednesday, when he attended a meeting
+of his professional guild in the city.  That wicked Alexandra had done
+the whole business, and presented her own sister to the messenger as the
+cousin of Amphillis, on that side of her parentage which came of gentle
+blood.
+
+"Mistress, I pray you tell me, if man know of wrong done or lying, and
+utter it not, hath he then part in the wrong?"
+
+"Very like, dear heart.  Is there here some wrong-doing?  I nigh guessed
+so much from thy ways.  Speak out, Phyllis."
+
+"Soothly, Mistress, I would not by my good will do my kinswoman an ill
+turn; yet either must I do so, or else hold my peace at wrong done to my
+Lady Foljambe, and peradventure to Master Hylton.  My cousin Ricarda is
+not of my father's kin.  She is daughter unto mine uncle, the
+patty-maker in the Strand.  I know of no kin on my father's side."
+
+"Holy Mary!" cried the scandalised Perrote.  "Has thine uncle, then, had
+part in this wicked work?"
+
+"I cry you mercy, Mistress, but I humbly guess not so.  Mine uncle, as I
+have known him, hath been alway an honest and honourable man, that
+should think shame to do a mean deed.  That he had holpen my cousins
+thus to act could I not believe without it were proven."
+
+"Then thy cousin, Mistress Winkfield?"
+
+"Alexandra?  I said not so much of her."
+
+"Phyllis, my Lady Foljambe must know this."
+
+"I am afeard, Mistress, she must.  Mistress, I must in mine honesty
+confess to you that these few days I have wist my cousin had called her
+by the name of Neville; but in good sooth, I wist not if I ought to
+speak or no, till your word this even seemed to show me that I must.  My
+cousins have been somewhat unfriends to me, and I held me back lest I
+should be reckoned to revenge myself."  Perrote took in the situation at
+a glance.  "Poor child!" she said.  "It is well thou hast spoken.  I
+dare guess, thou sawest not that mischief might come thereof."
+
+"In good sooth, Mistress, that did I not until this even.  I never
+thought of no such a thing."
+
+"Verily, I can scarce marvel, for such a thing was hardly heard of
+afore.  To deceive a noble lady! to 'present herself as of gentle blood,
+when she came but of a trading stock!  'Tis horrible!  I can scarce
+think of worser deed, without she had striven to deceive the priest
+himself in confession."
+
+The act of Ricarda Altham was far more shocking in the eyes of a lady in
+the fourteenth century than in the nineteenth.  The falsehood she had
+told was the same in both cases; or rather, it would weigh more heavily
+now than then.  But the nature of the deception--that what they would
+have termed "a beggarly tradesman's brat" should, by deceiving a lady of
+family, have forced herself on terms of comparative equality into the
+society of ladies--was horrible in the extreme to their eclectic souls.
+Tradesmen, in those days, were barely supposed, by the upper classes, to
+have either morals or manners, except an awe of superior people, which
+was expected to act as a wholesome barrier against cheating their
+aristocratic customers.  In point of fact, the aristocratic customers
+were cheated much oftener than they supposed, on the one side, and some
+of the "beggarly tradesfolk" were men of much higher intellect and
+principle than they imagined, on the other.  Brains were held to be a
+prerogative of gentle blood, extra intelligence in the lower classes
+being almost an impertinence.  The only exception to this rule lay with
+the Church.  She was allowed to develop a brain in whom she would.  The
+sacredness of her tonsure protected the man who wore it, permitting him
+to exhibit as much (or as little) of manners, intellect, and morals, as
+he might think proper.
+
+Perrote's undressing on that evening was attended with numerous shakes
+of the head, and sudden ejaculations of mingled astonishment and horror.
+
+"And that Agatha!" was one of the ejaculations.
+
+Amphillis looked for enlightenment.
+
+"Why, she is full hand in glove with Ricarda.  The one can do nought
+that the other knows not of.  I dare be bound she is helping her to draw
+poor Master Norman into her net--for Agatha will have none of him; she's
+after Master Matthew."
+
+"Lack-a-day!  I never thought nobody was after anybody!" said innocent
+Amphillis.
+
+"Keep thy seliness [simplicity], child!" said Perrote, smiling on her.
+"Nor, in truth, should I say `poor Master Norman,' for I think he is
+little like to be tangled either in Ricarda's web or Agatha's meshes.
+If I know him, his eyes be in another quarter--wherein, I would say, he
+should have better content.  Ah me, the folly of men! and women belike--
+I leave not them out; they be oft the more foolish of the twain.  The
+good God assoil [forgive] us all!  Alack, my poor Lady!  It doth seem as
+if the Lord shut all doors in my face.  I thought I was about to win Sir
+Godfrey over--and hard work it had been--and then cometh this Abbot of
+Darley, and slams the door afore I may go through.  Well, the Lord can
+open others, an' He will.  `He openeth, and none shutteth; He shutteth,
+and none openeth;' and blessed be His holy Name, He is easilier come at
+a deal than men.  If I must tarry, it is to tarry His leisure; and He
+knows both the hearts of men, and the coming future; and He is secure
+not to be too late.  He loves our poor Lady better than I love her, and
+I love her well-nigh as mine own soul.  Lord, help me to wait Thy time,
+and help mine unbelief!"
+
+The ordeal of telling Lady Foljambe had to be gone through the next
+morning.  She was even more angry than Perrote had anticipated, and much
+more than Amphillis expected.  Ricarda was a good-for-nought, a hussy, a
+wicked wretch, and a near relative of Satan, while Amphillis was only a
+shade lighter in the blackness of her guilt.  In vain poor Amphillis
+pleaded that she had never guessed Lady Foljambe's intention of sending
+for her cousin, and had never heard of it until she saw her.  Then, said
+Lady Foljambe, unreasonable in her anger, she ought to have guessed it.
+But it was all nonsense!  Of course she knew, and had plotted it all
+with her cousins.
+
+"Nay, Dame," said Perrote; "I myself heard you to say, the even afore
+Ricarda came, that it should give Phyllis a surprise to see her."
+
+If anything could have made Lady Foljambe more angry than she was, it
+was having it shown to her that she was in the wrong.  She now turned
+her artillery upon Perrote, whom she scolded in the intervals of heaping
+unsavoury epithets upon Amphillis and Ricarda, until Amphillis thought
+that everything poor Perrote had ever done in her life to Lady
+Foljambe's annoyance, rightly or wrongly, must have been dragged out of
+an inexhaustible memory to lay before her.  At last it came to an end.
+Ricarda was dismissed in dire disgrace; all that Lady Foljambe would
+grant her was her expenses home, and the escort of one mounted servant
+to take her there.  Even this was given only at the earnest pleading of
+Perrote and Amphillis, who knew, as indeed did Lady Foljambe herself,
+that to turn a girl out of doors in this summary manner was to expose
+her to frightful dangers in the fourteenth century.  Poor Ricarda was
+quite broken down, and so far forgot her threats as to come to Amphillis
+for help and comfort.  Amphillis gave her every farthing in her purse,
+and desired the servant who was to act as escort to convey a
+conciliatory message to her uncle, begging forgiveness for Ricarda for
+her sake.  She sent also an affectionate and respectful message to her
+new aunt, entreating her to intercede with her husband for his daughter.
+
+"Indeed, Rica, I would not have told if I could have helped it and
+bidden true to my trust!" was the farewell of Amphillis.
+
+"O Phyllis, I wish I'd been as true as you, and then I should never have
+fallen in this trouble!" sobbed the humbled Ricarda.  "I shouldn't have
+thought of it but for Saundrina.  But there, I've been bad enough!  I'll
+not lay blame to other folks.  God be wi' thee! if I may take God's name
+into my lips; but, peradventure, He'll be as angry as my Lady."
+
+"I suppose He is alway angered at sin," said Amphillis.  "But, Rica, the
+worst sinner that ever lived may take God's name into his lips to say,
+`God, forgive me!'  And we must all alike say that.  And Mistress
+Perrote saith, if we hide our stained souls behind the white robes of
+our Lord Christ, God the Father is never angered with Him.  All that
+anger was spent, every drop of it, upon the cross on Calvary; so there
+is none left now, never a whit, for any sinner that taketh refuge in
+Him.  Yea, it was spent on Him for this cause, that all souls taking
+shelter under His wing unto all time might find there only love, and
+rest, and peace."
+
+"O Phyllis, thou'rt a good maid.  I would I were half as good as thou!"
+
+"If I am good at all, dear Rica, Jesu Christ hath done it; and He will
+do it for thee, for the asking."
+
+So the cousins parted in more peace than either of them would once have
+thought possible.
+
+For some hours Amphillis was in serious doubt whether she would not
+share the fate of her cousin.  Perrote pleaded for her, it seemed, in
+vain; even Mrs Margaret added her gentle entreaties, and was sharply
+bidden to hold her tongue.  But when, on the afternoon of that eventful
+day, Amphillis went, as was now usual, to mount guard in the Countess's
+chamber, she was desired, in that lady's customary manner--
+
+"Bid Avena Foljambe come and speak with me."
+
+Amphillis hesitated an instant, and her mistress saw it.
+
+"Well?  Hast an access [a fit of the gout], that thou canst not walk?"
+
+"Dame, I cry your Grace mercy.  I am at this present ill in favour of my
+Lady Foljambe, and I scarce know if she will come for my asking."
+
+The Countess laughed the curt, bitter laugh which Amphillis had so often
+heard from her lips.
+
+"Tell her she may please herself," she said; "but that if she be not
+here ere the hour, I'll come to her.  I am not yet so sick that I cannot
+crawl to the further end of the house.  She'll not tarry to hear that
+twice, or I err."
+
+Amphillis locked the door behind her, as she was strictly ordered to do
+whenever she left that room, unless Perrote were there, and finding Lady
+Foljambe in her private boudoir, tremblingly delivered the more civil
+half of her message.  Lady Foljambe paid no heed to her.
+
+"Dame," said poor Amphillis, "I pray you of mercy if I do ill; but her
+Grace bade me say also that, if you came not to her afore the clock
+should point the hour, then would she seek you."
+
+Lady Foljambe allowed a word to escape her which could only be termed a
+mild form of swearing--a sin to which women no less than men, and of all
+classes, were fearfully addicted in the Middle Ages--and, without
+another look at Amphillis, stalked upstairs, and let herself with her
+own key into the Countess's chamber.
+
+The Countess sat in her large chair of carved walnut, made easy by being
+lined with large, soft cushions.  There were no easy chairs of any other
+kind.  She was in her favourite place, near the window.
+
+"Well, Avena, good morrow!  Didst have half my message, or the whole?"
+
+"I am here, Dame, to take your Grace's orders."
+
+"I see, it wanted the whole.  `To take my Grace's orders!'  Soothly,
+thou art pleasant.  Well, take them, then.  My Grace would like a couch
+prepared on yonder lawn, and were I but well enough, a ride on
+horseback; but I misdoubt rides be over for me.  Go to: what is this I
+hear touching the child Amphillis?--as though thou wentest about to be
+rid of her."
+
+"Dame, I have thought thereupon."
+
+"What for?  Now, Avena, I will know.  Thou dost but lose thy pains to
+fence with me."
+
+In answer, Lady Foljambe told the story, with a good deal of angry
+comment.  The Countess was much amused, a fact which did not help to
+calm the narrator.
+
+"_Ha, jolife_!" said she, "but I would fain have been in thy bower when
+the matter came forth!  Howbeit, I lack further expounding thereanentis.
+Whereof is Phyllis guilty?"
+
+Lady Foljambe, whose wrath was not up at the white heat which it had
+touched in the morning, found this question a little difficult to
+answer.  She could not reasonably find fault with Amphillis for being
+Ricarda's cousin, and this was the real cause of her annoyance.  The
+only blame that could be laid to her was her silence for a few days as
+to the little she knew.  Of this crime Lady Foljambe made the most.
+
+"Now, Avena," said the Countess, as peremptorily as her languor
+permitted, "hearken me, and be no more of a fool than thou canst help.
+If thou turn away a quiet, steady, decent maid, of good birth and
+conditions, for no more than a little lack of courage, or maybe of
+judgment--and thou art not a she-Solomon thyself, as I give thee to wit,
+but thou art a fearsome thing to a young maid when thou art angered; and
+unjust anger is alway harder, and sharper, and fierier than the just, as
+if it borrowed a bit of Satan, from whom it cometh--I say, if thou turn
+her away for this, thou shalt richly deserve what thou wilt very like
+get in exchange--to wit, a giddy-pate that shall blurt forth all thy
+privy matter (and I am a privy matter, as thou well wist), or one of
+some other ill conditions, that shall cost thee an heartbreak to rule.
+Now beware, and be wise.  And if it need more, then mind thou"--and the
+tone grew regal--"that Amphillis Neville is my servant, not thine, and
+that I choose not she be removed from me.  I love the maid; she hath
+sense, and she is true to trust; and though that keeps me in prison, yet
+can I esteem it when known.  'Tis a rare gift.  Now go, and think on
+what I have said to thee."
+
+Lady Foljambe found herself reluctantly constrained to do the Countess's
+bidding, so far, at least, as the meditation was concerned.  And the
+calmer she grew, the more clearly she saw that the Countess was right.
+She did not, however, show that she felt she had been in the wrong.
+Amphillis was not informed that she was forgiven, nor that she was to
+retain her place, but matters were allowed to slide silently back into
+their old groove.  So the winter came slowly on.
+
+"The time drew near the birth of Christ," that season of peace and
+good-will to men which casts its soft sunshine even over the world,
+bringing absent relatives together, and suggesting general family
+amnesties.  Perrote determined to make one more effort with Sir Godfrey.
+About the middle of December, as that gentleman was mounting his
+staircase, he saw on the landing that "bothering old woman," standing,
+lamp in hand, evidently meaning to waylay some one who was going up to
+bed.  Sir Godfrey had little doubt that he was the destined victim, and
+he growled inwardly.  However, it was of no use to turn back on some
+pretended errand; she was sure to wait till his return, as he knew.  Sir
+Godfrey growled again inaudibly, and went on to meet his fate in the
+form of Perrote.
+
+"Sir, I would speak with you."
+
+Sir Godfrey gave an irritable grunt.
+
+"Sir, the day of our Lord's birth is very nigh, when men be wont to make
+up old quarrels in peace.  Will you not yet once entreat of my Lord
+Duke, being in England, to pay one visit to his dying mother?"
+
+"I wis not that she is dying.  Folks commonly take less time over their
+dying than thus."
+
+Perrote, as it were, waved away the manner of the answer, and replied
+only to the matter.
+
+"Sir, she is dying, albeit very slowly.  My Lady may linger divers weeks
+yet.  Will you not send to my Lord?"
+
+"I did send to him," snapped Sir Godfrey.
+
+"And he cometh?" said Perrote, eagerly for her.
+
+"No."  Sir Godfrey tried to pass her with that monosyllable, but Perrote
+was not to be thus baffled.  She laid a detaining hand upon his arm.
+
+"Sir, I pray you, for our Lord's love, to tell me what word came back
+from my Lord Duke?"
+
+Our Lord's love was not a potent factor in Sir Godfrey's soul.  More
+powerful were those pleading human eyes--and yet more, the sentiment
+which swayed the unjust judge--"Because this widow troubleth me, I will
+avenge her."  He turned back.
+
+"Must you needs wit?  Then take it: it shall do you little pleasure.  My
+Lord writ that he was busily concerned touching the troubles in
+Brittany, and ill at ease anentis my Lady Duchess, that is besieged in
+the Castle of Auray, and he could not spare time to go a visiting;
+beside which, it might be taken ill of King Edward, whose favour at this
+present is of high import unto him, sith without his help he is like to
+lose his duchy.  So there ends the matter.  No man can look for a prince
+to risk the loss of his dominions but to pleasure an old dame."
+
+"One only, Sir, it may be, is like to look for it; and were I my Lord
+Duke, I should be a little concerned touching another matter--the
+account that he shall give in to that One at the last day.  In the
+golden balances of Heaven I count a dying mother's yearning may weigh
+heavy, and the risk of loss of worldly dominion may be very light.  I
+thank you, Sir.  Good-night.  May God not say one day to my Lord Duke,
+`Thou fool!'"
+
+Perrote disappeared, but Sir Godfrey Foljambe stood where she had left
+him.  Over his pleasure-chilled, gold-hardened conscience a breath from
+Heaven was sweeping, such a breath as he had often felt in earlier
+years, but which very rarely came to him now.  Like the soft toll of a
+passing bell, the terrible words rang in his ears with their accent of
+hopeless pity--"Thou fool!  Thou fool!"  Would God, some day, in that
+upper world, say that to _him_?
+
+The sound was so vivid and close that he actually glanced round to see
+if any one was there to hear but himself.  But he was alone.  Only God
+had heard them, and God forgets nothing--a thought as dreadful to His
+enemies as it is warmly comforting to His children.  Alas, for those to
+whom the knowledge that God has His eye upon them is only one of terror!
+
+Yet there is one thing that God does forget.  He tells us that He
+forgets the forgiven sin.  "As far as the sun-rising is from the
+sun-setting [Note 1], so far hath He removed our transgressions from
+us"--"Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea."  But as
+it has been well said, "When God pardons sin, He drops it out of His
+memory into that of the pardoned sinner."  We cannot forget it, because
+He has done so.
+
+For Sir Godfrey Foljambe the thought of an omniscient eye and ear was
+full of horror.  He turned round, went downstairs, and going to a
+private closet in his own study, where medicines were kept, drank off
+one of the largest doses of brandy which he had ever taken at once.  It
+was not a usual thing to do, for brandy was not then looked on as a
+beverage, but a medicine.  But Sir Godfrey wanted something potent, to
+still those soft chimes which kept saying, "Thou fool!"  Anything to get
+away from God!
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Note 1.  This is really the Hebrew of Psalm 103, verse 12.  The infidel
+objection, therefore, that since "east" and "west" meet, the verse has
+no meaning, is untenable as concerns the inspired original.  It is only
+valid as a criticism on the English translation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+MY LORD ELECT OF YORK.
+
+  "She only said,--`The day is dreary,
+  He will not come,' she said:
+  She wept,--`I am aweary, weary,--
+  O God, that I were dead!'"
+
+  Tennyson.
+
+"What, ho!  Gate, ho!  Open unto my Lord elect of York!"
+
+The cry startled the porter at Hazelwood Manor from an afternoon nap.
+He sprang up and hurried out, in utter confusion at his negligence.  To
+keep a priest waiting would have been bad manners enough, and an abbot
+still worse; but an archbishop was, in the porter's estimate, a
+semi-celestial being.  True, this Archbishop was not yet consecrated,
+nor had he received his pallium from Rome, both which considerations
+detracted from his holiness, and therefore from his importance; but he
+was the Archbishop of the province, and the shadow of his future dignity
+was imposing to an insignificant porter.  Poor Wilkin went down on his
+knees in a puddle, as soon as he had got the gate open, to beg the
+potentate's pardon and blessing, and only rose from them summarily to
+collar Colle, who had so little notion of the paramount claims of an
+archbishop that he received the cavalcade with barks as noisy as he
+would have bestowed on any worldly pedlar.  Nay, so very unmannerly was
+Colle, that when he was let go, he marched straight to the Archbishop,
+and after a prolonged sniff at the archiepiscopal boots, presumed so far
+as to wag his very secular tail, and even to give an uninvited lick to
+the archiepiscopal glove.  The Archbishop, instead of excommunicating
+Colle, laid his hand gently on the dog's head and patted him; which so
+emboldened that audacious quadruped that he actually climbed up the
+prelate, with more decided wagging than before.
+
+"Nay, my son!" said the Archbishop, gently, to an officious young priest
+in his suite, who would have dragged the dog away--"grudge me not my
+welcome.  Dogs be honest creatures, and dissemble not.  Hast thou never
+heard the saw, that `they be ill folks that dogs and children will not
+go withal'?"
+
+And with another pat of Colle's head, the Archbishop dismissed him, and
+walked into the hall to meet a further welcome from the whole family and
+household, all upon their knees.  Blessing them in the usual priestly
+manner, he commanded them to rise, and Sir Godfrey then presented his
+sons and squire, while Lady Foljambe did the same for the young ladies.
+
+"Mistress Margaret Foljambe, my son's wife, an' it please your Grace;
+and Mistress Perrote de Carhaix, my head chamberer.  These be my
+bower-women, Agatha de La Beche and Amphillis Neville."
+
+"Neville!" echoed the Archbishop, instantly.  "Of what Nevilles comest
+thou, my maid?"
+
+"Please it you, holy Father," said the confused Amphillis, more
+frightened still to hear a sharp "your Grace!" whispered from Lady
+Foljambe; "I know little of my kin, an' it like your Grace.  My father
+was Walter Neville, and his father a Ralph, but more know I not, under
+your Grace's pleasure."
+
+"How comes it thou wist no more?"
+
+"May it please your Grace, my father dwelt in Hertfordshire, and he
+wedded under his estate, so that his family cast him off, as I have
+heard," said Amphillis, growing every moment more hot and confused, for
+it was no light ordeal for one in her position to be singled out for
+conversation by an archbishop, and she sorely feared an after ebullition
+of Lady Foljambe's wrath.
+
+"My child!" said the Archbishop with great interest, and very gently,
+"did thy father wed one Margery Altham, of London, whose father dwelt in
+the Strand, and was a baker?"
+
+"He did so, under your Grace's pardon," said poor Amphillis, blushing
+for the paternal shortcomings; "but, may it please your Grace, he was a
+master-pastiller, not a baker."
+
+A little smile of amusement at the delicate distinction played about the
+Archbishop's lips.
+
+"Why, then, Cousin Amphillis, I think thy cousin may ask thee for a
+kiss," said he, softly touching the girl's cheek with his lips.  "My
+Lady Foljambe, I am full glad to meet here so near a kinswoman, and I do
+heartily entreat you that my word may weigh with you to deal well with
+this my cousin."
+
+Lady Foljambe, with a low reverence, assured his Grace that she had been
+entirely unaware, like Amphillis herself, that her bower-woman could
+claim even remote kindred with so exalted a house and so dignified a
+person; and that in future she should assume the position proper to her
+birth.  And to her astonishment, Amphillis was passed by her Ladyship up
+the table, above Agatha, above even Perrote--nay, above Mistress
+Margaret--and seated, not by any means to her comfort, next to Lady
+Foljambe herself.  From that day she was no more addressed with the
+familiar _thou_, but always with the _you_, which denoted equality or
+respect.  When Lady Foljambe styled her Mistress Amphillis, she endured
+it with a blush.  But when Perrote substituted it for the affectionate
+"Phyllis" usual on her lips, she was tearfully entreated not to make a
+change.
+
+The Archbishop was on his way south for the ceremony of consecration,
+which required a dispensation if performed anywhere outside the
+Cathedral of Canterbury, unless bestowed by the Pope himself.  His visit
+set Sir Godfrey thinking.  Here was a man who might safely be allowed to
+visit the dying Countess--being, of course, told the need for secrecy--
+and if he requested it of him, Perrote must cease to worry him after
+that.  No poor priest, nor all the poor priests put together, could be
+the equivalent of a live Archbishop.
+
+He consulted Lady Foljambe, and found her of the same mind as himself.
+It would be awkward, she admitted, if the Countess died, to find
+themselves censured for not having supplied her with spiritual
+ministrations proper for her rank.  Here was a perfect opportunity.  It
+would be a sin to lose it.
+
+It was, indeed, in a different sense to that in which she used the
+words, a perfect opportunity.  The name of Alexander Neville has come
+down to us as that of the gentlest man of his day, one of the most
+lovable that ever lived.  Beside this quality, which rendered him a
+peculiarly fit ministrant to the sick and dying, he was among the most
+prominent Lollards; he had drunk deep into the Scriptures, and,
+therefore, while not free from superstition--no man then was--he was
+very much more free than the majority.  Charms and incantations, texts
+tied round the neck, and threads or hairs swallowed in holy water, had
+little value to the masculine intellect of Alexander Neville.  And along
+with this masculine intellect was a heart of feminine tenderness, which
+would enable him to enter, so far as it was possible for a celibate
+priest to enter, into the sad yearnings of the dying mother, whose
+children did not care to come to her, and held aloof even in the last
+hour of her weary life.  In those times, when worldliness had eaten like
+a canker into the heart of the Church, almost as much as in our own--
+when preferment was set higher than truth, and Court favour was held of
+more worth than faithfulness, one of the most unworldly men living was
+this elect Archbishop.  The rank of his penitent would weigh nothing
+with him.  She would be to him only a passing soul, a wronged woman, a
+lonely widow, a neglected mother.
+
+After supper, Sir Godfrey drew the Archbishop aside into his private
+room, and told him, with fervent injunctions to secrecy, the sorrowful
+tale of his secluded prisoner.  As much sternness as was in Archbishop
+Neville's heart contracted his brows and drew his lips into a frown.
+
+"Does my Lord Duke of Brittany know his mother's condition?"
+
+"Ay, if it please your Grace."  Sir Godfrey repeated the substance of
+the answer already imparted to Perrote.
+
+"Holy saints!" exclaimed the Archbishop.  "And my Lady Basset, what
+saith she?"
+
+"An' it like your Grace, I sent not unto her."
+
+"But wherefore, my son?  An' the son will not come, then should the
+daughter.  I pray you, send off a messenger to my Lady Basset at once;
+and suffer me to see your prisoner.  Is she verily nigh death, or may
+she linger yet a season?"
+
+"Father Jordan reckoneth she may yet abide divers weeks, your Grace; in
+especial if the spring be mild, as it biddeth fair.  She fadeth but full
+slow."
+
+Sir Godfrey's tone was that of an injured man, who was not properly
+treated, either by the Countess or Providence, through this very gradual
+demise of the former.  The Archbishop's reply--"Poor lady!" was in
+accents of unmitigated compassion.
+
+Lady Foljambe was summoned by her husband, and she conducted the prelate
+to the turret-chamber, where the Countess sat in her chair by the
+window, and Amphillis was in attendance.  He entered with uplifted hand,
+and the benediction of "Christ, save all here!"
+
+Amphillis rose, hastily gathering her work upon one arm.  The Countess,
+who had heard nothing, for she had been sleeping since her bower-maiden
+returned from supper, looked up with more interest than she usually
+showed.  The entrance of a complete stranger was something very
+unexpected and unaccountable.
+
+"Christ save you, holy Father!  I pray you, pardon me that I arise not,
+being ill at ease, to entreat your blessing.  Well, Avena, what has
+moved thee to bring a fresh face into this my dungeon, prithee?  It
+should be somewhat of import."
+
+"Madame, this is my Lord's Grace elect of York, who, coming hither on
+his way southwards, mine husband counted it good for your Grace's soul
+to shrive you of his Grace's hand.  My Lord, if your Grace have need of
+a crucifix, or of holy water, both be behind this curtain.  Come,
+Mistress Amphillis.  His Grace will be pleased to rap on the door, when
+it list him to come forth; and I pray you, abide in your chamber, and
+hearken for the same."
+
+"I thank thee, Avena," said the Countess, with her curt laugh.  "Sooth
+to say, I wist not my soul was of such worth in thine eyes, and still
+less in thine husband's.  I would my body weighed a little more with the
+pair of you.  So I am to confess my sins, forsooth?  That shall be a
+light matter, methinks; I have but little chance to sin, shut up in this
+cage.  Truly, I should find myself hard put to it to do damage to any of
+the Ten Commandments, hereaway.  A dungeon's all out praisable for
+keeping folks good--nigh as well as a sick bed.  And when man has both
+together, he should be marvellous innocent.  There, go thy ways; I'll
+send for thee when I lack thee."
+
+Lady Foljambe almost slammed the door behind her, and, locking it,
+charged Amphillis to listen carefully for the Archbishop's knock, and to
+unlock the door the moment she should hear it.
+
+The Archbishop, meanwhile, had seated himself in the only chair in the
+room corresponding to that of the Countess.  A chair was an object of
+consequence in the eyes of a mediaeval gentleman, for none but persons
+of high rank might sit on a chair; all others were relegated to a form,
+styled a bench when it had a back to it.  Stools, however, were allowed
+to all.  That certain formalities or styles of magnificence should have
+been restricted to persons of rank may be reasonable; but it does seem
+absurd that no others should have been allowed to be comfortable.  "The
+good old times" were decidedly inconvenient for such as had no handles
+to their names.
+
+"I speak, as I have been told, to the Lady Marguerite, Duchess of
+Brittany, and mother to my Lord Duke?" inquired the Archbishop.
+
+"And Countess of Montfort," was the answer.  "Pray your Grace, give me
+all my names, for nought else is left me to pleasure me withal--saving a
+two-three ounces of slea-silk and an ell of gold fringe."
+
+"And what else would you?"
+
+"What else?"  The question was asked in passionate tones, and the dark
+flashing eyes went longingly across the valley to the Alport heights.
+"I would have my life back again," she said.  "I have not had a fair
+chance.  I have done with my life not that I willed, but only that which
+others gave leave for me to do.  Six and twenty years have I been
+tethered, and fretted, and limited, granted only the semblance of power,
+the picture of life, and thrust and pulled back whensoever I strained in
+the least at the leash wherein I was held.  No dog has been more penned
+up and chained than I!  And now, for eight years have I been cabined in
+one chamber, shut up from the very air of heaven whereunto God made all
+men free--shut up from every face that I knew and loved, saving one of
+mine ancient waiting-maids--verily, if they would use me worser than so,
+they shall be hard put to it, save to thrust me into my coffin and
+fasten down the lid on me.  I want my life back again!  I want the
+bright harvest of my youth, which these slugs and maggots have devoured,
+which I never had.  I want the bloom of my dead happiness which men tare
+away from me.  I want my dead lord, and mine estranged children, and my
+lost life!  Tell me, has God no treasury whence He pays compensation for
+such wrongs as mine?  Must I never see my little child again, the baby
+lad that clung to me and would not see me weep?  My pillow is wet now,
+and no man careth for it--nay, nor God Himself.  I was alway true woman;
+I never wronged human soul, that I know.  I paid my dues, and shrived me
+clean, and lived honestly.  Wherefore is all this come upon me?"
+
+"Lady Marguerite, if you lost a penny and gained a gold noble, would you
+think you were repaid the loss or no?"
+
+"In very deed I should," the sick woman replied, languidly; the fire had
+spent itself in that outburst, and the embers had little warmth left in
+them.
+
+"Yet," said the Archbishop, significantly, "you would not have won the
+lost thing back."
+
+"What matter, so I had its better?"
+
+"We will return to that.  But first I have another thing to ask.  You
+say you never wronged man to your knowledge.  Have you always paid all
+your dues to Him that is above men?"
+
+"I never robbed the Church of a penny!"
+
+"There be other debts than pence, my daughter.  Have you kept, to the
+best of your power, all the commandments of God?"
+
+"In very deed I have."
+
+"You never worshipped any other God?"
+
+"I never worshipped neither Jupiter nor Juno, nor Venus, nor Diana, nor
+Mars, nor Mercury."
+
+"That can I full readily believe.  But as there be other debts than
+money, so there be other gods than Jupiter.  Honoured you no man nor
+thing above God?  Cared you alway more for His glory than for the fame
+of Marguerite of Flanders, or the comfort of Jean de Bretagne?"
+
+"Marry, you come close!" said the Countess, with a laugh.  "Fame and
+ease be not gods, good Father."
+
+"They be not God," was the significant answer.  "`Ye are servants to him
+whom ye obey,' saith the apostle, and man may obey other than his lawful
+master.  Whatsoever you set, or suffer to set himself, in God's place,
+that is your god.  What has been your god, my daughter?"
+
+"I am never a bit worse than my neighbours," said the Countess, leaving
+that inconvenient question without answer, and repairing, as thousands
+do, to that very much broken cistern of equality in transgression.
+
+"You must be better than your neighbours ere God shall suffer you in His
+holy Heaven.  You must be as good as He is, or you shall not win
+thither.  And since man cannot be so, the only refuge for him is to take
+shelter under the cross of Christ, which wrought righteousness to cover
+him."
+
+"Then man may live as he list, and cover him with Christ's
+righteousness?" slily responded the Countess, with that instant recourse
+to the Antinomianism inherent in fallen man.
+
+"`If man say he knoweth Him, and keepeth not His commandments, he is a
+liar,'" quoted the Archbishop in reply.  "`He that saith he abideth in
+Him, ought to walk as He walked.'  Man cannot abide in Christ, and
+commit sin, for He hath no sin.  You left unanswered my question, Lady:
+what has been your god?"
+
+"I have paid due worship to God and the Church," was the rather stubborn
+answer.  "Pass on, I pray you.  I worshipped no false god; I took not
+God's name in vain no more than other folks; I always heard mass of a
+Sunday and festival day; I never murdered nor stole; and as to telling
+false witness, beshrew me if it were false witness to tell Avena
+Foljambe she is a born fool, the which I have done many a time in the
+day.  Come now, let me off gently, Father.  There are scores of worser
+women in this world than me."
+
+"God will not judge you, Lady, for the sins of other women; neither will
+He let you go free for the goodness of other.  There is but One other
+for whose sake you shall be suffered to go free, and that only if you be
+one with Him in such wise that your deeds and His be reckoned as one,
+like as the debts of a wife be reckoned to her husband, and his honours
+be shared by her.  Are you thus one with Jesu Christ our Lord?"
+
+"In good sooth, I know not what you mean.  I am in the Church: what more
+lack I?  The Church must see to it that I come safe, so long as I shrive
+me and keep me clear of mortal sin: and little chance of mortal sin have
+I, cooped up in this cage."
+
+"Daughter, the Church is every righteous man that is joined with Christ.
+If you wist not what I mean, can you be thus joined?  Could a woman be
+wedded to a man, and not know it?  Could two knights enter into
+covenant, to live and die each with other, and be all unsure whether
+they had so done or no?  It were far more impossible than this, that you
+should be a member of Christ's body, and not know what it meaneth so to
+be."
+
+"But I am in Holy Church!" urged the Countess, uneasily.
+
+"I fear not so, my daughter."
+
+"Father, you be marvellous different from all other priests that ever
+spake to me.  With all other, I have shrived me and been absolved, and
+there ended the matter.  I had sins to confess, be sure; and they looked
+I should so have, and no more.  But you--would you have me perfect
+saint, without sin?  None but great saints be thus, as I have been
+taught."
+
+"Not the greatest of saints, truly.  There is no man alive that sinneth
+not.  What is sin?"
+
+"Breaking the commandments, I reckon."
+
+"Ay, and in especial that first and greatest--`Thou shalt love the Lord
+thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy
+soul, and with all thy strength.'  Daughter, hast thou so loved Him--so
+that neither ease nor pleasure, neither fame nor life, neither earth nor
+self, came between your love and Him, was set above Him, and served
+afore Him?  Speak truly, like the true woman you are.  I wait your
+answer."
+
+It was several moments before the answer came.
+
+"Father, is that sin?"
+
+"My daughter, it is the sin of sins: the sin whence all other sins
+flow--this estrangement of the heart from God.  For if we truly loved
+God, and perfectly, should we commit sin?--could we so do?  Could we
+desire to worship any other than Him, or to set anything before Him?--
+could we bear to profane His name, to neglect His commands, to go
+contrary to His will?  Should we then bear ill-will to other men who
+love Him, and whom He loveth?  Should we speak falsely in His ears who
+is the Truth?  Should we suffer pride to defile our souls, knowing that
+He dwelleth with the lowly in heart?  Answer me, Lady Marguerite."
+
+"Father, you are sore hard.  Think you God, that is up in Heaven, taketh
+note of a white lie or twain, or a few cross words by nows and thens?
+not to name a mere wish that passeth athwart man's heart and is gone?"
+
+"God taketh note of sin, daughter.  And sin is _sin_--it is rebellion
+against the King of Heaven.  What think you your son would say to a
+captain of his, which pleaded that he did but surrender one little
+postern gate to the enemy, and that there were four other strong portals
+that led into the town, all whereof he had well defended?"
+
+"Why, the enemy might enter as well through the postern as any other.
+To be in, is to be in, no matter how he find entrance."
+
+"Truth.  And the lightest desire can be sin, as well as the wickedest
+deed.  Verily, if the desire never arose, the deed should be ill-set to
+follow."
+
+"Then God is punishing me?" she said, wistfully.
+
+"God is looking for you," was the quiet answer.  "The sheep hath gone
+astray over moor and morass, and the night is dark and cold, and it
+bleateth piteously: and the Shepherd is come out of the warm fold, and
+is tracking it on the lonely hills, and calling to it.  Lady, will the
+sheep answer His voice? will it bleat again and again, until He find it?
+or will it refuse to hear, and run further into the morass, and be
+engulfed and fully lost in the dark waters, or snatched and carried into
+the wolf's den?  God is not punishing you now; He is loving you; He is
+waiting to see if you will take His way of escape from punishment.  But
+the punishment of your sins must be laid upon some one, and it is for
+you to choose whether you will bear it yourself, or will lay it upon Him
+who came down from Heaven that He might bear it for you.  It must be
+either upon you or Him."
+
+The face lighted up suddenly, and the thin weak hands were stretched
+out.
+
+"If God love me," she said, "let Him give me back my children!  He
+would, if He did.  Let them come back to me, and I shall believe it.
+Without this I cannot.  Father, I mean none ill; I would fain think as
+you say.  But my heart is weak, and my life ebbs low, and I cannot bleat
+back again.  O God, for my children!--for only one of them!  I would be
+content with one.  If Thou lovest me--if I have sinned, and Thou wouldst
+spare me, give me back my child!  `Thou madest far from me friend and
+neighbour'--give me back _one_, O God!"
+
+"Daughter, we may not dictate to our King," said the Archbishop, gently.
+"Yet I doubt not there be times when He stoops mercifully to weakness
+and misery, and helps our unbelief.  May He grant your petition!  And
+now, I think you lack rest, and have had converse enough.  I will see
+you again ere I depart.  _Benedicite_!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+POSTING A LETTER.
+
+  "Whose fancy was his only oracle;
+  Who could buy lands and pleasure at his will,
+  Yet slighted that which silver could not win."
+
+  Rev  Horatius Bonar, D.D.
+
+The Archbishop rapped softly on the door of the chamber, and Amphillis
+sprang to let him out.  She had to let herself in, so he passed her with
+only a smile and a blessing, and going straight to his own chamber,
+spent the next hour in fervent prayer.  At the end of that time he went
+down to the hall, and asked for writing materials.
+
+This was a rather large request to make in a mediaeval manor house.
+Father Jordan was appealed to, as the only person likely to know the
+whereabouts of such scarce articles.
+
+"Well, of a surety!" exclaimed the old priest, much fluttered by the
+inquiry.  "Methinks I may find the inkhorn,--and there _was_ some ink in
+it,--but as for writing-paper!--and I fear there shall be never a bit of
+parchment in the house.  Wax, moreover--Richard, butler, took the last
+for his corks.  Dear, dear! only to think his Grace should lack matter
+for writing!  Yet, truly, 'tis not unnatural for a prelate.  Now,
+whatever shall man do?"
+
+"Give his Grace a tile and a paint-brush," said careless Matthew.
+
+"Cut a leaf out of a book," suggested illiterate Godfrey.
+
+Father Jordan looked at the last speaker as if he had proposed to cook a
+child for dinner.  Cut a leaf out of a book!  Murder, theft, and arson
+combined, would scarcely have been more horrible in his eyes.
+
+"Holy saints, deliver us!" was his shocked answer.
+
+Norman Hylton came to the rescue.
+
+"I have here a small strip of parchment," said he, "if his Grace were
+pleased to make use thereof.  I had laid it by for a letter to my
+mother, but his Grace's need is more than mine."
+
+The Archbishop took the offered gift with a smile.
+
+"I thank thee, my son," said he.  "In good sooth, at this moment my need
+is great, seeing death waiteth for no man."
+
+He sat down, and had scarcely remembered the want of ink, when Father
+Jordan came up, carrying a very dilapidated old inkhorn.
+
+"If your Grace were pleased to essay this, and could serve you withal,"
+suggested he, dubiously; "soothly, there is somewhat black at the
+bottom."
+
+"And there is alegar in the house, plenty," added Matthew.
+
+The Archbishop looked about for the pen.
+
+"Unlucky mortal that I am!" cried Father Jordan, smiting himself on the
+forehead.  "Never a quill have I, by my troth!"
+
+"Have you a goose?  That might mend matters," said Matthew.  "Had we but
+a goose, there should be quills enow."
+
+"_Men culpa, mea culpa_!" cried poor Father Jordan, as though he were at
+confession, to the excessive amusement of the young men.
+
+Norman, who had run upstairs on finding the pen lacking, now returned
+with one in his hand.
+
+"Here is a quill, if your Grace be pleased withal.  It is but an old
+one, yet I have no better," he said, modestly.
+
+"It shall full well serve me, my son," was the answer; "and I thank thee
+for thy courtesy."
+
+For his day the Archbishop was a skilful penman, which does not by any
+means convey the idea of covering sheet after sheet of paper with rapid
+writing.  The strip of parchment was about fourteen inches by four.  He
+laid it lengthwise before him, and the letters grew slowly on it, in the
+old black letter hand, which took some time to form.  Thus ran his
+letter:--
+
+"Alexander, by Divine sufferance elect of York, to the Lady Basset of
+Drayton wisheth peace, health, and the blessing of God Almighty.
+
+"Very dear Lady,--
+
+"Let it please you to know that the bearer hereof hath tidings to
+deliver of serious and instant import.  We pray you full heartily to
+hear him without any delay, and to give full credence to such matter as
+he shall impart unto you: which having done, we bid you, as you value
+our apostolical blessing, to come hither with all speed, and we charge
+our very dear son, your lord, that he let not nor hinder you in obeying
+this our mandate.  The matter presseth, and will brook no delay: and we
+affy ourself in you, Lady, as a woman obedient to the Church, that you
+will observe our bidding.  And for so doing this shall be your warrant.
+Given at Hazelwood Manor, in the county of Derby, this Wednesday after
+Candlemas."
+
+The Archbishop laid down his pen, folded his letter, and asked for silk
+to tie it.  Matthew Foljambe ran off, returning in a moment with a roll
+of blue silk braid, wherewith the letter was tied up.  Then wax was
+needed.
+
+"_Ha, chetife_!" said Father Jordan.  "The saints forgive me my sins!
+Never a bit of wax had I lacked for many a month, and I gave the last to
+Richard, butler."
+
+"Hath he used it all?" asked Matthew.
+
+"Be sure he so did.  He should have some left only if none needed it,"
+responded his brother.
+
+A search was instituted.  The butler regretfully admitted that all the
+wax supplied, to him was fastening down corks upon bottles of Alicant
+and Osey.  Sir Godfrey had none; he had sent for some, but had not yet
+received it.  Everybody was rather ashamed; for wax was a very necessary
+article in a mediaeval household, and to run short of it was a small
+disgrace.  In this emergency Matthew, usually the person of resources,
+came to the rescue.
+
+"Hie thee to the cellar, Dick, and bring me up a two-three bottles of
+thy meanest wine," said he.  "We'll melt it off the corks."
+
+By this ingenious means, sufficient wax was procured to take the impress
+of the Archbishop's official seal, without which the letter would bear
+no authentication, and the recipient could not be blamed if she refused
+obedience.  It was then addressed--"To the hands of our very dear Lady,
+the Lady Joan Basset, at Drayton Manor, in the county of Stafford, be
+these delivered with speed.  Haste, haste, for thy life, haste!"
+
+All nobles and dignitaries of the Church in 1374 used the "we" now
+exclusively regal.
+
+Having finished his preparations, the Archbishop despatched young
+Godfrey to ask his father for a private interview.  Sir Godfrey at once
+returned to the hall, and ceremoniously handed the Archbishop into his
+own room.
+
+All large houses, in those days, contained a hall, which was the general
+meeting-place of the inhabitants, and where the family, servants, and
+guests, all took their meals together.  This usually ran two storeys
+high; and into it opened from the lower storey the offices and
+guard-chambers, and from the upper, into a gallery running round it, the
+private apartments of the family, a spiral stair frequently winding down
+in the corner.  The rooms next the hall were private sitting-rooms,
+leading to the bedchambers beyond; and where still greater secrecy was
+desired, passages led out towards separate towers.  Every bedroom had
+its adjoining sitting-room.  Of course in small houses such elaborate
+arrangements as these were not found, and there were no sitting-rooms
+except the hall itself; while labourers were content with a two-roomed
+house, the lower half serving as parlour and kitchen, the upper as the
+family bedchamber.
+
+Young Godfrey carried a chair to his father's room.  An Archbishop could
+not sit on a form, and there were only three chairs in the house, two of
+which were appropriated to the Countess.  The prelate took his seat, and
+laid down his letter on a high stool before Sir Godfrey.
+
+"Fair Sir, may I entreat you of your courtesy, to send this letter with
+all good speed to my Lady Basset of Drayton, unto Staffordshire?"
+
+"Is it needful, holy Father?"
+
+"It is in sooth needful," replied the Archbishop, in rather peremptory
+tones, for he plainly saw that Sir Godfrey would not do this part of his
+duty until he could no longer help it.
+
+"It shall put her Ladyship to great charges," objected the knight.
+
+"The which, if she defray unwillingly, then is she no Christian woman."
+
+"And be a journey mighty displeasant, at this winter season."
+
+"My answer thereto is as to the last."
+
+"And it shall blurt out the King's privy matters."
+
+"In no wise.  I have not writ thereof a word in this letter, but have
+only prayed her Ladyship to give heed unto that which the bearer thereof
+shall make known to her privily."
+
+"Then who is to bear the same?"
+
+"I refer me thereon, fair Sir, to your good judgment.  Might one of your
+own sons be trusted herewith?"
+
+Sir Godfrey looked dubious.  "Godfrey should turn aside to see an horse,
+or to tilt at any jousting that lay in his path; and Matthew, I cast no
+doubt, should lose your Grace's letter in a snowdrift."
+
+"Then have you brought them up but ill," said the Archbishop.  "But what
+hindereth that you go withal yourself?"
+
+"I, holy Father!  I am an old man, and infirm, an' it like your Grace."
+
+"Ay, you were full infirm when the tilting was at Leicester," replied
+the Archbishop, ironically.  "My son, I enjoin thee, as thine
+Archbishop, that thou send this letter.  Go, or send a trusty messenger,
+as it liketh thee best; and if thou have no such, then shall my
+secretary, Father Denny, carry the same, for he is full meet therefor;
+but go it must."
+
+Poor Sir Godfrey was thus brought to the end of all his subterfuges.  He
+could only say ruefully that his eldest son should bear the letter.  The
+Archbishop thereupon took care to inform that young gentleman that if
+his missive should be either lost or delayed, its bearer would have to
+reckon with the Church, and might not find the account quite convenient
+to pay.
+
+Godfrey was ready enough to go.  Life at Hazelwood was not so exciting
+that a journey, on whatever errand, would not come as a very welcome
+interlude.  He set forth that evening, and as the journey was barely
+forty miles, he could not in reason take longer over it than three days
+at the utmost.  Sir Godfrey, however, as well as the Archbishop, had
+confided his private views to his son.  He charged him to see Lord
+Basset first, and to indoctrinate him with the idea that it was most
+desirable Lady Basset should not receive the prelate's message.  Could
+he find means to prevent it?
+
+Lord Basset was a man of a type not uncommon in any time, and
+particularly rife at the present day.  He lived to amuse himself.  Of
+such things as work and duty he simply had no idea.  In his eyes work
+was for the labouring class, and duty concerned the clergy; neither of
+them applied at all to him.  He was, therefore, of about as much value
+to the world as one of the roses in his garden; and if he would be more
+missed, it was because his temper did not at all times emulate the
+sweetness of that flower, and its absence would be felt as a relief.
+This very useful and worthy gentleman was languidly fitting on the
+jesses of a hawk, when young Godfrey was introduced into the hall.  Lady
+Basset was not present, and Godfrey seized the opportunity to initiate
+her husband into the part he was to play.  He found to his annoyance
+that Lord Basset hesitated to perform the task assigned to him.  Had the
+letter come from an insignificant layman, he would have posted it into
+the fire without more ado; but Lord Basset, who was aware of sundry
+habits of his own that he was not able to flatter himself were the
+fashion in Heaven, could not afford to quarrel with the Church, which,
+in his belief, held the keys of that eligible locality.
+
+"Nay, verily!" said he.  "I cannot thwart the delivering of his Grace's
+letter."
+
+"Then will my Lady go to Hazelwood, and the whole matter shall be blazed
+abroad.  It is sure to creep forth at some corner."
+
+"As like as not.  Well, I would not so much care--should it serve you if
+I gave her strict forbiddance for to go?"
+
+"Would she obey?"
+
+Lord Basset laughed.  "That's as may be.  She's commonly an easy mare to
+drive, but there be times when she takes the bit betwixt her teeth, and
+bolts down the contrary road.  You can only try her."
+
+"Then under your leave, may I deliver the letter to her?"
+
+"Here, De Sucherche!" said Lord Basset, raising his voice.  "Bid
+Emeriarde lead this gentleman to thy Lady; he hath a privy word to
+deliver unto her."
+
+Emeriarde made her appearance in the guise of a highly respectable,
+middle-aged upper servant, and led Godfrey up the staircase from the
+hall to Lady Basset's ante-chamber, where, leaving him for a moment,
+while she announced a visitor to her mistress, she returned and
+conducted him into the presence of the Princess of Bretagne.
+
+He saw a woman of thirty-six years of age, tall and somewhat stately,
+only moderately good-looking, and with an expression of intense
+weariness and listlessness in her dark eyes.  The face was a true index
+to the feelings, for few lonelier women have ever shut their sorrows in
+their hearts than the Princess Jeanne of Bretagne.  She had no child;
+and her husband followed the usual rule of people who spend life in
+amusing themselves, and who are apt to be far from amusing to their own
+families.  His interest, his attractions, and his powers of
+entertainment were kept for the world outside.  When his wife saw him,
+he was generally either vexed, and consequently irritable, or tired and
+somewhat sulky.  All the sufferings of reaction which fell to him were
+visited on her.  She was naturally a woman of strong but silent
+character; a woman who locked her feelings, her sufferings, and her
+thoughts in her own breast, and having found no sympathy where she ought
+to have found it, refrained from seeking it elsewhere.
+
+Lord Basset would have been astonished had he been accused of ill-using
+his wife.  He never lifted his hand against her, nor even found fault
+with her before company.  He simply let her feel as if her life were not
+worth living, and there was not a soul on earth who cared to make it so.
+If, only now and then, he would have given her half an hour of that
+brilliance with which he entertained his guests! if he would
+occasionally have shown her that he cared whether she was tired, that it
+made any difference to his happiness whether she was happy!  She was a
+woman with intense capacity for loving, but there was no fuel for the
+fire, and it was dying out for sheer want of material.  Women of lighter
+character might have directed their affections elsewhere; women of more
+versatile temperament might have found other interests for themselves;
+she did neither.  Though strong, her intellect was neither quick nor of
+great range; it was deep rather than wide in its extent.  It must be
+remembered, also, that a multitude of interests which are open to a
+woman in the present day, were quite unknown to her.  The whole world of
+literature and science was an unknown thing; and art was only accessible
+in the two forms of fancy work and illumination, for neither of which
+had she capacity or taste.  She could sew, cook, and act as a doctor
+when required, which was not often; and there the list of her
+accomplishments ended.  There was more in her, but nobody cared to draw
+it out, and herself least of all.
+
+Lady Basset bowed gravely in reply to Godfrey's courtesy, broke the seal
+of the letter, and gazed upon the cabalistic characters therein written.
+Had they been Chinese, she would have learned as much from them as she
+did.  She handed back the letter with a request that he would read it to
+her, if he possessed the art of reading; if not, she would send for
+Father Collard.
+
+For a moment, but no more, the temptation visited Godfrey to read the
+letter as something which it was not.  He dismissed it, not from any
+conscientious motive, but simply from the doubt whether he could keep up
+the delusion.
+
+"Good!" said Lady Basset, when the letter had been read to her; "and now
+what is that you are to tell me?"
+
+"Dame, suffer me first to say that it is of the gravest moment that
+there be no eavesdroppers about, and that your Ladyship be pleased to
+keep strait silence thereupon.  Otherwise, I dare not utter that
+wherewith his Grace's letter hath ado."
+
+"There be no ears at hand save my bower-woman's, and I will answer for
+her as for myself.  I can keep silence when need is.  Speak on."
+
+"Then, Lady, I give you to know that the Duchess' Grace, your mother, is
+now in ward under keeping of my father, at Hazelwood Manor, and--"
+
+Lady Basset had risen to her feet, with a strange glow in her eyes.
+
+"My mother!" she said.
+
+"Your Lady and mother, Dame; and she--"
+
+"My mother!" she said, again.  "My mother!  I thought my mother was dead
+and buried, years and years ago!"
+
+"Verily, no, Lady; and my Lord Archbishop's Grace doth most earnestly
+desire your Ladyship to pay her visit, she being now near death, and
+your Lord and brother the Duke denying to come unto her."
+
+The glow deepened in the dark eyes.
+
+"My Lord my brother refused to go to my mother?"
+
+"He did so, Dame."
+
+"And she is near death?"
+
+"Very near, I am told, Lady."
+
+"And he wist it?"
+
+"He wist it."
+
+Lady Basset seemed for a moment to have forgotten everything but the
+one.
+
+"Lead on," she said.  "I will go to her--poor Mother!  I can scarce
+remember her; I was so young when taken from her.  But I think she loved
+me once.  I will go, though no other soul on earth keep me company."
+
+"Lady," said Godfrey, saying the exact reverse of truth, "I do right
+heartily trust your Lord shall not let you therein."
+
+"What matter?" she said.  "If the Devil and all his angels stood in the
+way, I would go to my dying mother."
+
+She left the room for a minute, and to Godfrey's dismay came back
+attired for her journey, as if she meant to set out there and then.
+
+"But, Lady!" he expostulated.
+
+"You need not tarry for me," she said, calmly.  "I can find the way, and
+I have sent word to bid mine horses."
+
+This was unendurable.  Godfrey, in his dismay, left the room with only a
+courtesy, and sought Lord Basset in the hall.
+
+"Ah! she's taken the bit betwixt her teeth," said he.  "I warrant you'd
+best leave her be; she'll go now, if it be on a witch's broom.  I'll
+forbid it, an' you will, but I do you to wit I might as well entreat yon
+tree not to wave in the wind.  When she doth take the bit thus, she's--"
+
+An emphatic shake of Lord Basset's head finished the sentence.  He rose
+as if it were more trouble than it was reasonable to impose, walked into
+his wife's room, and asked her where she was going that winter day.
+
+"You are scarce wont to inquire into my comings and goings," she said,
+coldly.  "But if it do your Lordship ease to wit the same, I am going to
+Hazelwood Manor, whence yonder young gentleman is now come."
+
+"How if I forbid it?"
+
+"My Lord, I am sent for to my dying mother.  Your Lordship is a
+gentleman, I believe, and therefore not like to forbid me.  But if you
+so did, yea, twenty times twice told, I should answer you as now I do.
+Seven years have I done your bidding, and when I return I will do it yet
+again.  But not now.  Neither you, nor Satan himself, should stay me
+this one time."
+
+"Your Ladyship losengeth," [flatters] was the careless answer.  "Fare
+you well.  I'll not hinder you.  As for Satan, though it pleaseth you to
+count me in with him, I'll be no surety for his doings.  Master
+Foljambe, go you after this crack-brained dame of mine, or tarry you
+here with me and drink a cup of Malvoisie wine?"
+
+Godfrey would very much have preferred to remain with Lord Basset; but a
+wholesome fear of his father and the Archbishop together restrained him
+from doing so.  He was exceedingly vexed to be made to continue his
+journey thus without intermission; but Lady Basset was already on a
+pillion behind her squire, and Emeriarde on another behind the groom, a
+few garments having been hastily squeezed into a saddle-bag carried by
+the latter.  This summary way of doing things was almost unheard of in
+the fourteenth century; and Godfrey entertained a private opinion that
+"crack-brained" was a truthful epithet.
+
+"Needs must," said he; "wherefore I pray your Lordship mercy.  Her
+Ladyship shall scantly make good road to Hazelwood without I go withal.
+But--_ha, chetife_!"
+
+Lord Basset slightly laughed, kissed his hand to his wife, lifted his
+hat to Godfrey with a shrug of his shoulders, and walked back into
+Drayton Manor House.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+TOO LITTLE.
+
+  "God's very kindest answers to our prayers
+  Come often in denials or delays."
+
+  S.W. Partridge.
+
+Lord Basset turned back into his house with a sensation akin to relief.
+Not that he allowed the thought of his wife's unhappiness to deter him
+from any course on which he had set his heart, but that he felt the
+pressure of her atmosphere, and could not enjoy his transgressions with
+the full _abandon_ which he would have liked.  Her stately, cold,
+unbending reserve was like a constant chill and blight.  How much more
+happy they might have been if they had chosen!  The world held many a
+worse man than Lord Basset; he was rather idle and careless than wicked,
+though idleness and carelessness are very often the seed of wickedness,
+when left to go to flower.  If she would only have dropped that haughty
+coldness, he thought, he could have felt interest in her, and have taken
+some pleasure in her society; while her conviction was that if he would
+only have shown some interest, she could have loved him and returned it.
+Would both have done it together, the result might have been attained.
+
+Mr Godfrey Foljambe was meditating, not on this, but on his own
+personal wrongs, as he led the little cavalcade in an easterly
+direction.  First, he had been deprived of that glass of Malvoisie--
+which would probably have been plural rather than singular--and of a
+conversation with Lord Basset, which might have resulted in something of
+interest: and life was exceedingly devoid of interest, thought Mr
+Godfrey, in a pessimistic spirit.  He had not discovered that, to a
+great extent, life is to every man what he chooses to make it; that he
+who keeps his eyes fixed on street mud need not expect to discover
+pearls, while he who attentively scans the heavens is not at all
+unlikely to see stars.  Let a man set himself diligently to hunt for
+either his misfortunes or his mercies, and he will find plenty of the
+article in request.  Misfortunes were the present object of Mr
+Godfrey's search, and he had no difficulty in discovering them.  He was
+disgusted with the folly of Lady Basset in thus setting off at once, and
+making him set off, without so much as an hour's rest.  It was just like
+a woman!  Women never had a scrap of patience.  This pleasing illusion
+that all patience was masculine was kept up in popular literature just
+so long as men were the exclusive authors; when women began to write,
+otherwise than on kingly sufferance of the nobler half of creation, it
+was seen that the feminine view of that and similar subjects was not
+quite so restricted.  Last and worst to young Godfrey was the
+expectation of his father's displeasure.  Sir Godfrey's anger was no
+passing cloud, as his son well knew.  To be thought to have failed in
+his mission--as assuredly he would be--by his own fault, would result in
+considerable immediate discomfort, and might even damage his worldly
+prospects in future.  He would gladly have prolonged the journey; for
+his instinct always led him to put off the evil day rather than to face
+it and put it behind him--which last is usually the wiser course; but
+Lady Basset would brook no delay, and on the afternoon of the second day
+after leaving Drayton they rode up to Hazelwood Manor.
+
+Godfrey hastily despatched the porter's lad to inform his mother of Lady
+Basset's arrival; and Lady Foljambe met her on the steps of the hall.
+The latter was scandalised to find that the former saw no need for
+secrecy, or at any rate had no intention of preserving it.
+
+"Dame," said Lady Foljambe, "I am honoured by your Ladyship's visit.
+Pray you, suffer me to serve you with hypocras and spice in your privy
+chamber."
+
+This was intended as a gentle hint to the visitor that secrets were not
+to be talked in the hall; but the hint was not accepted.
+
+"How fares my Lady and mother?" was the response.
+
+"Dame, much worse than when my son departed," said Lady Foljambe, in a
+fluttered manner.
+
+"Then I pray you to break my coming, and lead me to her forthwith," said
+Lady Basset, in her style of stately calm.
+
+A curtain was drawn aside, and Perrote came forward.
+
+"Damoiselle Jeanne!" she said, greeting Lady Basset by the old youthful
+title unheard for years.  "My darling, mine own dear child!"
+
+A smile, not at all usual there, quivered for a moment on the calm fixed
+lips.
+
+"Is this mine ancient nurse, Perrote de Carhaix?" she said.  "I think I
+know her face."
+
+The smile was gone in a moment, as she repeated her wish to be taken
+immediately to the Countess.
+
+Lady Foljambe felt she had no choice.  She led the way to the chamber of
+the royal prisoner, requesting Lady Basset to wait for a moment at the
+door.
+
+The Countess sat no longer in her cushioned chair by the window.  She
+was now confined to her bed, where she lay restlessly, moaning at
+intervals, but always on one theme.  "My children! my lost children!
+Will not God give me back _one_?"
+
+Lady Foljambe signed to Perrote--she scarcely knew why--to break the
+news to the suffering mother.
+
+"Lady, the Lord hath heard your moaning, and hath seen your tears," said
+Perrote, kneeling by the bed.  "He hath given you back--"
+
+"My son?"
+
+The cry was a pitiful one.  Then, as ever, the boy was the dearest to
+his mother's heart.
+
+"Very dear Lady, no.  Your daughter."
+
+It was painful to see how the sudden gleam died out of the weary eyes.
+
+"Ah, well!" she said, after an instant's pause.  "Well!  I asked but for
+one, and when man doth that, he commonly gets the lesser of the twain.
+Well!  I shall be glad to see my Jeanne.  Let her come in."
+
+Lady Basset came forward and bent over the dying woman.
+
+"Dame!" she said.
+
+"Come, now!" was the answer.  "There be folks enough call me Dame.  Only
+two in all this world can call me Mother."
+
+"Mother!" was the response, in a tremulous voice.  And then the icy
+stateliness broke up, and passionate sobs broke in, mingled with the
+sounds of "O Mother!  Mother!"
+
+"That's good, little lass," said the Countess.  "It's good to hear that,
+but once, _ma fillette_.  But wherefore tarrieth thy brother away?  It
+must be King Edward that will not suffer him to come."
+
+It was piteous to hear her cling thus to the old illusion.  All the time
+of her imprisonment, though now and then in a fit of anger she could
+hurl bitter names at her son, yet, when calm, she had usually maintained
+that he was kept away from her, and refused to be convinced that his
+absence was of his own free will.  The longer the illusion lasted, the
+more stubbornly she upheld it.
+
+"'Tis not always the best-loved that loveth back the best," said
+Perrote, gently, "without man's best love be, as it should be, fixed on
+God.  And 'tis common for fathers and mothers to love better than they
+be loved; the which is more than all other true of the Father in
+Heaven."
+
+"Thou mayest keep thy sermons, old woman, till mass is sung," said the
+Countess, in her cynical style.  "Ah me!  My Jean would come to the old,
+white-haired mother that risked her life for his--he would come if he
+could.  He must know how my soul hungereth for the sight of his face.  I
+want nothing else.  Heaven would be Purgatory to me without him."
+
+"Ah, my dear Lady!" tenderly replied Perrote.  "If only I might hear you
+say that of the Lord that laid down His life for you!"
+
+"I am not a nun," was the answer; "and I shall not say that which I feel
+not."
+
+"God forbid you should, Lady!  But I pray Him to grant you so to feel."
+
+"I tell thee, I am not a nun," said the Countess, rather pettishly.
+
+Her idea was that real holiness was impossible out of the cloister, and
+that to love God was an entirely different type of feeling from the
+affection she had for her human friends.  This was the usual sentiment
+in the Middle Ages.  But Perrote had been taught of God, and while her
+educational prejudices acted like coloured or smoked glass, and dimmed
+the purity of the heavenly light, they were unable to hide it
+altogether.
+
+"Very dear Lady," she said, "God loveth sinners; and He must then love
+other than nuns.  Shall they not love Him back, though they be not in
+cloister?"
+
+"Thou hadst better win in cloister thyself, when thou art rid of me,"
+was the answer, in a tone which was a mixture of languor and sarcasm.
+"Thou art scarce fit to tarry without, old woman."
+
+"I will do that which God shall show me," said Perrote, calmly.  "Dame,
+were it not well your Grace should essay to sleep?"
+
+"Nay, not so.  I have my Jeanne to look at, that I have not seen for
+five-and-twenty years.  I shall sleep fast enough anon.  Daughter, art
+thou a happy woman, or no?"
+
+Lady Basset answered by a shake of the head.  "Why, what aileth thee?
+Is it thy baron, or thy childre?"
+
+"I have no child, Mother."
+
+The Countess heard the regretful yearning of the tone.
+
+"Thank the saints," she said.  "Thou wert better.  Soothly, to increase
+objects for love is to increase sorrow.  If thou have no childre,
+they'll never be torn from thee, nor they will never break thine heart
+by ill behaving.  And most folks behave ill in this world.  _Ha,
+chetife_! 'tis a weary, dreary place, this world, as ever a poor woman
+was in.  Hast thou a good man to thy baron, child?"
+
+"He might be worser," said Lady Basset, icily.
+
+"That's true of an handful of folks," said the Countess.  "And I reckon
+he might be better, eh?  That's true of most.  Good lack, I marvel
+wherefore we all were made.  Was it by reason God loved or hated us?
+Say, my Predicant Friaress."
+
+"Very dear Lady, the wise man saith, `God made a man rightful, and he
+meddled himself with questions without, number.'  [Ecclesiastes eight,
+verse 29.]  And Saint Paul saith that `God commendeth His charity in us,
+for when we were sinners, Christ was dead for us.'  [Romans five, verse
+8.]  Moreover, Saint John--"
+
+"Hold!  There be two Scriptures.  Where is the sermon?"
+
+"The Scriptures, Lady, preach a better sermon than I can."
+
+"That's but a short one.  Man's ill, and God is good; behold all thine
+homily.  That man is ill, I lack no preaching friar to tell me.  As to
+God being good, the Church saith so, and there I rest.  Mary, Mother! if
+He were good, He would bring my Jean back to me."
+
+"Very dear Lady, God is wiser than men, and He seeth the end from the
+beginning."
+
+"Have done, Perrotine!  I tell thee, if God be good, He will bring my
+Jean to me.  There I abide.  I'll say it, if He do.  I would love any
+man that wrought that: and if He will work it, I will love Him--and not
+otherwise.  Hold!  I desire no more talk."
+
+The Countess turned her face to the wall, and Perrote retired, with
+tears in her eyes.
+
+"Lord, Thou art wise!" she said in her heart; "wiser than I, than she,
+than all men.  But never yet have I known her to depart from such a word
+as that.  Oh, if it be possible,--if it be possible!--Thou who camest
+down from Heaven to earth, come down once more to the weak and stubborn
+soul of this dying woman, and grant her that which she requests, if so
+she may be won to love thee!  Father, the time is very short, and her
+soul is very dark.  O fair Father, Jesu Christ, lose not this soul for
+which Thou hast died!"
+
+Perrote's next move was to await Lady Basset's departure from her
+mother's chamber, and to ask her to bestow a few minutes' private talk
+on her old nurse.  The Princess complied readily, and came into the
+opposite chamber where Amphillis sat sewing.
+
+"Damoiselle Jeanne," said Perrote, using the royal title of Lady
+Basset's unmarried days; "may I pray you tell me if you have of late
+seen the Lord Duke your brother?"
+
+"Ay, within a year," said Lady Basset, listlessly.
+
+"Would it please you to say if King Edward letteth his coming?"
+
+"I think not so."
+
+"Would he come, if he were asked yet again, and knew that a few weeks--
+maybe days--would end his mother's life?"
+
+"I doubt it, Perrotine."
+
+"Wherefore?  He can love well where he list."
+
+"Ay, where he list.  But I misdoubt if ever he loved her--at the least,
+sithence she let him from wedding the Damoiselle de Ponteallen."
+
+"Then he loved the Damoiselle very dearly?"
+
+"For a month--ay."
+
+"But wherefore, when the matter was by--"
+
+Lady Basset answered with a bitter little laugh, which reminded Perrote
+of her mother's.
+
+"Because he loved Jean de Montfort, and she thwarted _him_, not the
+Damoiselle.  He loved Alix de Ponteallen passionately, and passion dies;
+'tis its nature.  It is not passionately, but undyingly, that he loves
+himself.  Men do; 'tis their nature."
+
+Perrote shrewdly guessed that the remark had especial reference to one
+man, and that not the Duke of Bretagne.
+
+"Ah, that is the nature of all sinners," she said, "and therefore of all
+men and women also.  Dame, will you hearken to your old nurse, and grant
+her one boon?"
+
+"That will I, Perrotine, if it be in my power.  I grant not so many
+boons, neither can I, that I should grudge one to mine old nurse.  What
+wouldst?"
+
+"Dame, I pray you write a letter to my Lord Duke, the pitifullest you
+may pen, and send one of your men therewith, to pray him, as he loveth
+you, or her, or God, that he will come and look on her ere she die.
+Tell him his old nurse full lovingly entreateth him, and if he will so
+do, I will take veil when my Lady is gone hence, and spend four nights
+in the week in prayer for his welfare.  Say I will be his bedes-woman
+for ever, in any convent he shall name.  Say anything that will bring
+him!"
+
+"I passed thee my word, and I will keep it," said Lady Basset, as she
+rose.  "But if I know him, what I should say certainly to bring him
+would be that Sir Oliver de Clisson lay here in dungeon, and that if he
+would come he should see his head strake off in yonder court.  He is a
+fair lover, my brother; but he is a far better hater."
+
+Perrote sighed.
+
+"Amphillis!" came faintly up the stairs and along the gallery.
+"Am-phil-lis!"
+
+"Go, child," said Perrote, replying to a look from Amphillis.  "'Tis
+Agatha calling thee.  What would the foolish maid?"
+
+Amphillis left her work upon the bench and ran down.
+
+"Well, it is merry matter to catch hold of thee!" said Agatha, who was
+waiting at the foot of the stairs, and who never could recollect, unless
+Lady Foljambe were present, that Amphillis was to be addressed with more
+reverence than before.  "Here be friends of thine come to visit thee."
+
+"Friends!--of mine!" exclaimed Amphillis, in surprise.  "Why, I haven't
+any friends."
+
+"Well, enemies, then," said Agatha, with a giggle.  "Come, go into hall
+and see who they be, and then tell me."
+
+Amphillis obeyed, and to her still greater surprise, found herself in
+the presence of Mr Altham and Regina.
+
+"Ah, here she cometh!" was her uncle's greeting.  "Well, my maid, I am
+fain to see thee so well-looking, I warrant thee.  Can'st love a new
+aunt, thinkest?"
+
+"That am I secure," replied Amphillis, smiling, and kissing the
+goldsmith's daughter.
+
+"And an old uncle belike?" pursued Mr Altham, kissing her in his turn.
+
+"Assuredly, dear Uncle; but I pray, how came you hither?"
+
+"Dat shall I tell you," said Mrs Altham, "for oderwise you shall not
+know what good uncle you have.  He promise to take me to mine own home
+in Dutchland, to see my greatmoder and mine aunts; and when we nigh
+ready were, he say, `See you, now! shall we not go round by Derbyshire,
+to see Amphillis, and sail from Hull?'  So we come round all dis way; he
+miss you so, and want to make him sure you be well and kindly used.  See
+you?"
+
+"How kind and good are you both!" said Amphillis, gratefully.  "Pray
+you, good Aunt Regina, came Ricarda home safe?"
+
+"She came safe, and she had but de scold well, tanks to your message; if
+not, she had de beat, beat, I ensure you, and she deserve dat full well.
+She was bad girl, bad.  Said I not to you, De mans is bad, and de
+womans is badder?  It is true."
+
+"She's a weary hussy!" said Mr Altham; "but she's been a sight better
+maid sithence she came back.  She saith 'tis thy doing, Phyllis."
+
+"Mine?" exclaimed Amphillis.
+
+"She saith so.  I wis not how.  And art happy here, my maid?  Doth thy
+dame entreat thee well? and be thy fellows pleasant company?  Because if
+no, there's room for thee in the patty-shop, I can tell thee.
+Saundrina's wed, and Ricarda looks to be, and my wife and I should be
+full fain to have thee back for our daughter.  Howbeit, if thou art here
+welsome and comfortable, we will not carry thee off against thy will.
+What sayest?"
+
+"Truly, dear Uncle, I am here full welsome, saving some small matters of
+little moment; and under your good pleasure, I would fain not go hence
+so long as one liveth that is now sore sick in this house, and nigh to
+death.  Afterward, if it like you to dispose of me otherwise, I am alway
+at your bidding."
+
+"Well said.  But what should best like thee?"
+
+Amphillis felt the question no easy one.  She would not wish to leave
+Perrote; but if Perrote took the veil, that obstacle would be removed;
+and even if she did not, Amphillis had no certain chance of accompanying
+her wherever she might go, which would not improbably be to Drayton
+Manor.  To leave the rest of her present companions would be no hardship
+at all, except--
+
+Amphillis's heart said "except," and her conscience turned away and
+declined to pursue that road.  Norman Hylton had shown no preference for
+her beyond others, so far as she knew, and her maidenly instinct warned
+her that even her thoughts had better be kept away from him.  Before she
+answered, a shadow fell between her and the light; and Amphillis looked
+up into the kindly face of Archbishop Neville.
+
+The Archbishop had delayed his further journey for the sake of the dying
+Countess, whom he wished to see again, especially if his influence could
+induce her son to come to her.  He now addressed himself to Mr Altham.
+
+"Master Altham, as I guess?" he asked, pleasantly.
+
+Mr Altham rose, as in duty bound, in honour to a priest, and a priest
+who, as he dimly discerned by his canonicals, was not altogether a
+common one.
+
+"He, and your humble servant, holy Father."
+
+"You be uncle, I count, of my cousin Amphillis here?"
+
+"Sir!  Amphillis your cousin!"
+
+"Amphillis is my cousin," was the quiet answer; "and I am the Archbishop
+of York."
+
+To say that Mr Altham was struck dumb with amazement would be no figure
+of speech.  He stared from the Archbishop to Amphillis, and back again,
+as if his astonishment had fairly paralysed his powers, that of sight
+only excepted; and had not Regina roused him from his condition of
+helplessness by an exclamation of "_Ach, heilige, Maria_!" there is no
+saying how long he might have stood so doing.
+
+"Ay, Uncle," said Amphillis, with a smile; "this is my Lord elect of
+York, and he is pleased to say that my father was his kinsman."
+
+"And if it serve you, Master Altham," added the Archbishop, "I would
+fain have a privy word with you touching this my cousin."
+
+Mr Altham's reply was two-fold.  "Saints worshipped might they be!" was
+meant in answer to Amphillis.  Then, to the Archbishop, he hastily
+continued, "Sir, holy Father, your Grace's most humble servant!  I hold
+myself at your Grace's bidding, whensoever it shall please your Grace."
+
+"That is well," said the Archbishop, smiling.  "We will have some talk
+this evening, if it serve you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+THE REQUEST GRANTED.
+
+  "It is not love that steals the heart from love: 'Tis the hard world,
+  and its perplexing cares; Its petrifying selfishness, its pride, its
+  low ambition, and its paltry aims."
+
+  Caroline Bowles.
+
+Lady Basset fulfilled her promise of writing to her brother, and sent
+her own squire with the letter.  It was uncertain where the Duke might
+be, and consequently how long the journey might take.  The messenger was
+instructed to seek him first at Windsor, and to be guided in his further
+movements by what he might hear there.  No time was lost, for the squire
+set out on his journey that very evening.
+
+About the time of his departure, the Archbishop and Mr Altham held
+their little conference.  Regina was at work in the window-seat, by her
+husband's contrivance.  Theoretically, he took the popular view of the
+condign inferiority of the female intellect; while practically he held
+his Regina in the highest reverence, and never thought of committing
+himself on any important subject without first ascertaining her opinion.
+And the goldsmith's daughter deserved his esteem; for she possessed a
+warm heart and a large reserve of quiet good sense.  They were both
+highly delighted to see that the Archbishop seemed inclined to show
+kindness to the young cousin whose relationship he, at least, was not
+too proud to acknowledge.
+
+"Nor should he not be," said Regina, whose tiny bobbins were flying
+about on her lace-cushion, too fast for the eye to follow.  "Did we not
+come, all, from von man and von woman?  I tink Adam was not too proud to
+speak to Abel: and if Cain would not talk, he was bad man, and we should
+not take de pattern after de bad mans.  Ach! if dere was none but good
+mans and good womans, what better of a world it should be!"
+
+Regina had too much tact and sense of propriety to thrust herself into
+the conversation between the Archbishop and her husband; she sat
+silently listening and working, and the sprigs of lace flowers grew
+rapidly under her skilful fingers.
+
+"I would fain speak with you, Mr Altham," said the Archbishop,
+"touching the disposing of my cousin Amphillis.  I cannot but feel that
+the maid hath been somewhat wronged by her father's kin; and though,
+thanks be to God, I never did her nor him any hurt, yet, being of his
+kindred, I would desire you to suffer me a little to repair this wrong.
+She seemeth me a good maid and a worthy, and well bred in courtesy;
+wherefore, if my word might help her to secure a better settlement, I
+would not it were lacking.  I pray you, therefore, to count me as your
+friend and hers, and tell me how you think to order her life.  She hath,
+I take it, none other guardian than you?"
+
+"My Lord, your Grace doth us great honour.  'Tis true, the maid hath
+none other guardian than I; and her mother was mine only sister, and I
+held her dear: and seeing she had none other to give an helping hand, I
+was in the mind to portion her with mine own daughters.  I gave to the
+two, and shall give to the other, five pound apiece to their marriages,
+and likewise their wedding gear; and seeing she is a good, decent maid,
+and a credit to her kin, I would do the same by Amphillis."
+
+"Therein do you act full nobly, Master Altham," said the Archbishop; for
+the sum named was a very handsome one for a girl in Mr Altham's station
+of life at that time.  Only a tradesman very well-to-do could have
+afforded to portion his daughter so highly, with an amount equivalent in
+the present day to about 80 pounds.  "Go to, then: will you suffer me
+that I endow my young kinswoman with the like sum, and likewise find her
+in an horse for her riding?"
+
+In days when public conveyances of all kinds were totally unknown, a
+horse was almost a necessity, and only the very poor were without one at
+least.  The price of such a horse as would be considered fit for
+Amphillis was about thirty shillings or two pounds.  The offer of the
+Archbishop therefore struck Mr Altham as a most generous one, and his
+thanks were profuse accordingly.
+
+"Have you taken any thought for her disposal?" inquired the prelate.
+
+"No, in very deed," replied the worthy patty-maker, with some
+hesitation.  "There be nigh me divers youths of good conditions, that I
+dare be bound should be fain to wed with a maid of good lineage and
+decent 'haviour, with a pretty penny in her pocket; but I never brake my
+mind to any, and--" here Mr Altham glanced at Regina, and received an
+optic telegram across the bobbins--"if your Grace were pleased to think
+of any that you had a favour for, I would not in no wise stand in the
+way thereto."
+
+"Methinks," said the Archbishop, "under your leave, worthy Master
+Altham, my cousin might look somewhat higher.  Truly, I mean not to cast
+scorn on any good and honest man; we be all sons of Adam: but--in a
+word, to speak out straightway, I have one in my mind that I reckon
+should not make an ill husband for Amphillis, and this is Sir Godfrey
+Foljambe his squire, Master Norman Hylton, that is of birth even with
+her, and I believe a full worthy young man, and well bred.  If it may
+suit with your reckoning, what say you to breaking your mind to him
+thereupon, and seeing if he be inclined to entertain the same?"
+
+"My Lord," replied Master Altham, after exchanging another telegram with
+his Mentor, "in good sooth, both Phyllis and I are much beholden unto
+you, and I will full gladly so do."
+
+"Yet, Master Altham, I would desire you to be satisfied touching this
+young man's conditions, ere you do fix your mind upon him.  I hear well
+of him from all that do know him--indeed, I am myself acquaint with some
+of his near kin--with twain of his uncles and a brother--yet I would
+fain have you satisfied therewith no less than myself."
+
+Optic telegrams would not answer this time, for Regina's eyes were not
+lifted from the lace-cushion.  Mr Altham hesitated a moment, murmured a
+few words of thanks, and at last came out openly with--"What sayest,
+sweetheart?"
+
+"He will do," was Regina's answer.  "He is good man.  He have clear
+eyes, he look you in de face; he pray in de chapel, and not run his eyes
+all round; he laugh and chatter-patter not wid other damsels; he is sad,
+courteous, and gent.  He will do, husband."
+
+Little idea had Amphillis that her future was being thus settled for her
+downstairs, as she sat in the Countess's chamber, tending her sick lady.
+The Countess was slowly sinking.  Father Jordan thought she might live
+perhaps for another month; it was only a question of time.  Perrote said
+that the soul was keeping the body alive.  The old fiery flashes of
+passion were never seen now; she showed a little occasional irritability
+and petulance, but usually her mood was one of listless, languid
+weariness, from which nothing aroused her, and in which nothing
+interested her.  The one burning, crying desire of her heart was to see
+her son.  She did not know of the fruitless application which had been
+already made to him; still less of the renewed appeal, to which no
+answer could be returned for some days at least.  Her belief was that
+Sir Godfrey would not permit any message to be sent, and that if he did,
+King Edward would not allow the Duke, who was his vassal, to obey it.
+To the least hint that the Duke might or could himself decline, she
+refused to listen so decidedly that no one had the heart to repeat it.
+More plaintive, day by day, grew the dying mother's yearning moans for
+her best-loved child.  In vain Perrote tried to assure her that human
+love was inadequate to satisfy the cravings of her immortal soul; that
+God had made her for Himself, and that only when it reached and touched
+Him could the spirit which He had given find rest.
+
+"I cannot hearken to thee, old woman," said the dying prisoner.  "My
+whole soul is set on my lad, and is bent to see him before I die.  Let
+God grant me that, and I will listen to Him after--I will love the good
+God then.  I cannot rest, I cannot rest without my lad!"
+
+The days wore on, and the snows of February passed into the winds of
+March.  Lady Basset remained at Hazelwood, but her squire had not
+returned.  The Countess was very weak now.
+
+The Archbishop of York had delayed his departure too.  He would answer
+for it, he said, both to his superior of Canterbury and to the King.  In
+his own heart he was not satisfied with the ministrations of kindly,
+ignorant Father Jordan, who was very desirous to soothe the perturbed
+soul of the Countess, and had not the least idea how to do it.  He
+thought he might yet be of service to the dying Princess.
+
+Very cautiously Mr Altham ventured with some trepidation to sound
+Norman Hylton as to his feelings towards Amphillis.  Notwithstanding the
+Archbishop's countenance and solid help, he was sorely afraid of being
+snubbed and sat upon for his presumption.  He was therefore
+proportionately relieved when Norman assured him he wished no better
+fate to overtake him, but that he was unable to see how he could
+possibly afford to marry.
+
+"Verily, Master Altham, I do you to wit, I have but five possessions--
+myself, my raiment, mine harness [armour was termed harness up to the
+seventeenth century], mine horse, and my book.  Not a yard of land have
+I, nor look to have: nor one penny in my plack, further than what I
+earn.  How then can I look to keep a wife?  Well I wot that Mistress
+Amphillis were fortune in herself to him that is so lucky as to win her;
+but in good sooth, no such thing is there as luck, and I should say,
+that hath so much favour of.  God, seeing the wise man saith that `a
+prudent wife is given properly of the Lord.'  Yet I reckon that the
+wisest in the world can scarce keep him warm of a winter day by lapping
+him in his wisdom; and the fairest and sweetest lady shall lack somewhat
+to eat beside her own sweetness.  Could I see my way thereto, trust me,
+I would not say you nay; but--"
+
+"But how, Master Hylton, if she carried her pocket full of nobles?"
+
+"Ah, then it were other matter.  I would stand to it gladly if so were."
+
+"Well, for how much look you?  Amphillis should bring you a portion of
+ten pound beside her wedding gear, and an horse."
+
+"Say you so?  Methinks we were made, then, could we win into some great
+house to serve the lord and lady thereof."
+
+"I cast no doubt, if he had the opportunity, my Lord's Grace of York
+should help you at that pinch.  He seems full ready to do his young
+kinswoman all the good he may."
+
+"May I but see my way afore me, Master Altham, nought should make me
+gladder than to fulfil this your behest."
+
+Mr Altham laid the case before the Archbishop.
+
+"Tell Master Hylton he need give himself not so much thought thereon as
+a bee should pack in his honey-bag," was the smiling reply.  "I will
+warrant, so soon as it is known in the Court that I lack place for a
+newly-wedded cousin and her husband, there shall be so many warm nests
+laid afore me, that I shall have but to pick and choose.  If that be all
+the bar to my cousin's wedding, I may bless it to-morrow."
+
+It was evident that there was no other difficulty, from the glad light
+in Norman Hylton's eyes when he was told the Archbishop's answer.  The
+matter was settled at once.  Only one small item was left out,
+considered of no moment--the bride-elect knew nothing about the
+transaction.  That was a pleasure to come.  That it would, should,
+might, or could, be anything but a pleasure, never occurred either to
+the Archbishop or to Mr Altham.  They would not have belonged to their
+century if it had done so.
+
+It was the afternoon of the ninth of March.  No answer had been received
+from the Duke, and Perrote had almost lost hope.  The Countess
+petulantly declined to allow any religious conversation in her chamber.
+She was restless and evidently miserable, Perrote thought more so than
+merely from the longing desire to see her son; but some strange and
+unusual reserve seemed to have come over her.  Physically, she sank day
+by day: it would soon be hour by hour.
+
+Amphillis was off duty for the moment, and had seated herself with her
+work at the window of her own room, which looked into the outer court,
+and over the walls towards Derby.  She kept upstairs a good deal at this
+time.  There were several reasons for this.  She wished to be close at
+hand if her services were needed; she had no fancy for Agatha's rattle;
+and--she had not asked herself why--she instinctively kept away from the
+company of Norman Hylton.  Amphillis was not one of those girls who wear
+their hearts upon their sleeves; who exhibit their injuries, bodily or
+mental, and chatter freely over them to every comer.  Her instinct was
+rather that of the wounded hart, to plunge into the deepest covert, away
+from every eye but the Omniscient.
+
+Mr and Mrs Altham had pursued their journey without any further
+communication to Amphillis.  It was Lady Foljambe's prerogative to make
+this; indeed, a very humble apology had to be made to her for taking the
+matter in any respect out of her hands.  This was done by the
+Archbishop, who took the whole blame upon himself, and managed the
+delicate affair with so much grace, that Lady Foljambe not only forgave
+the Althams, but positively felt herself flattered by his interference.
+She would inform Amphillis, after the death of the Countess, how her
+future had been arranged.
+
+The maiden herself, in ignorance of all arrangements made or imagined,
+was indulging in some rather despondent meditations.  The state of the
+Countess, whom she deeply pitied; the probably near parting from
+Perrote, whom she had learned to love; and another probable parting of
+which she would not let herself think, were enough to make her heart
+sink.  She would, of course, go back to her uncle, unless it pleased
+Lady Foljambe to recommend (which meant to command) her to the service
+of some other lady.  And Amphillis was one of those shy, intense souls
+for whom the thought of new faces and fresh scenes has in it more fear
+than hope.  She knew that there was just a possibility that Lady
+Foljambe might put her into Ricarda's place, which she had not yet
+filled up, three or four different negotiations to that end having
+failed to effect it; and either this or a return to her uncle was the
+secret hope of her heart.  She highly respected and liked her new Aunt
+Regina, and her Uncle Robert was the only one of her relatives on the
+mother's side whom she loved at all.  Yet the prospect of a return to
+London was shadowed by the remembrance of Alexandra, who had ever been
+to Amphillis a worry and a terror.
+
+As Amphillis sat by the window, she now and then lifted her head to look
+out for a moment; and she did so now, hearing the faint ring of a horn
+in the distance.  Her eyes lighted on a party of horsemen, who were
+coming up the valley.  They were too far away to discern details, but
+she saw some distant flashes, as if something brilliant caught the
+sunlight, and also, as she imagined, the folds of a banner floating.
+Was it a party of visitors coming to the Manor, or, more likely, a group
+of travellers on their way to Chesterfield from Derby?  Or was it--oh,
+was it possible!--the Duke of Bretagne?
+
+Amphillis's embroidery dropped on the rushes at her feet, as she sprang
+up and watched the progress of the travellers.  She was pretty sure
+presently that the banner was white, then that some of the travellers
+were armed, then that they were making for Hazelwood, and at last that
+the foremost knight of the group wore a helmet royally encircled.  She
+hardly dared to breathe when the banner at last showed its blazon as
+pure ermine; and it scarcely needed the cry of "Notre Dame de Gwengamp!"
+to make Amphillis rush to the opposite room, beckon Perrote out of it,
+and say to her in breathless ecstasy--
+
+"The Duke!  O Mistress Perrote, the Lord Duke!"
+
+"Is it so?" said Perrote, only a little less agitated than Amphillis.
+"Is it surely he? may it not be a messenger only?"
+
+"I think not so.  There is an ermine pennon, and the foremost knight
+hath a circlet on his helm."
+
+"Pray God it so be!  Phyllis, I will go down anon and see how matters
+be.  Go thou into our Lady's chamber--she slept but now--and if she
+wake, mind thou say not a word to her hereupon.  If it be in very deed
+my Lord Duke, I will return with no delay."
+
+"But if she ask?"
+
+"Parry her inquirations as best thou mayest."
+
+Amphillis knew in her heart that she was an exceedingly bad hand at that
+business; but she was accustomed to do as she was told, and accordingly
+she said no more.  She was relieved to find the Countess asleep, the cry
+for admission not having been loud enough to wake her.  She sat down and
+waited.
+
+Perrote, meanwhile, had gone down into the hall, where Lady Foljambe sat
+at work with Agatha.  Sir Godfrey was seated before the fire, at which
+he pointed a pair of very straight and very lengthy legs; his hands were
+in his pockets, and his look conveyed neither contentment nor
+benevolence.  In a recess of the window sat young Matthew, whistling
+softly to himself as he stroked a hawk upon his gloved wrist, while his
+brother Godfrey stood at another window, looking out, with his arms upon
+the sill.  The only person who noticed Perrote's entrance was Agatha,
+and she pulled a little face by way of relief to her feelings.  Lady
+Foljambe worked on in silence.
+
+"Sir," said Perrote, addressing herself to the master of the house,
+"Phyllis tells me a party be making hither, that she hath seen from the
+window; and under your good pleasure, I reckon, from what the maid saw,
+that it be my Lord's Grace of Bretagne and his meynie."
+
+Sir Godfrey struggled to his feet with an exclamation of surprise.  His
+elder son turned round from the window; the younger said, "_Ha, jolife_!
+Now, Gille, go on thy perch, sweet heart!" and set the falcon on its
+perch.  Agatha's work went down in a moment.  Lady Foljambe alone seemed
+insensible to the news.  At the same moment, the great doors at the end
+of the hall were flung open, and the seneschal, with a low bow to his
+master and mistress, cried--
+
+"Room for the Duke's Grace of Brittany!"
+
+As the new arrivals entered the hall, Lady Basset came in from the
+opposite end.  The Duke, a fine, rather stern-looking man, strode
+forward until he reached the dais where the family sat; and then,
+doffing his crowned helmet, addressed himself to Sir Godfrey Foljambe.
+
+"Sir, I give you good even.  King Edward your Lord greets you by me, and
+bids you give good heed to that which you shall find herein."
+
+At a motion from the Duke, quick and peremptory, one of his knights
+stepped forth and delivered the royal letter.
+
+Sir Godfrey took it into his hands with a low reverence, and bade his
+seneschal fetch Father Jordan, without whose assistance it was
+impossible for him to ascertain his Sovereign's bidding.
+
+Father Jordan hastened in, cut the silken string, and read the letter.
+
+"Messire,--Our will and pleasure is, that you shall entertain in your
+Manor of Hazelwood, for such time as shall be his pleasure, our very
+dear and well-beloved son, John, Duke of Brittany and Count de Montfort,
+neither letting nor deferring the said Duke from intercourse with our
+prisoner his mother, Margaret, Duchess of Brittany, but shall suffer him
+to speak with her at his will.  And for so doing this shall be your
+warrant.  By the King.  At our Castle of Winchester, the morrow of Saint
+Romanus."
+
+Lady Foljambe turned to the Duke and inquired when it would be his
+pleasure to speak with the prisoner.
+
+"When her physician counts it meet," said he, with a slight movement of
+his shapely shoulders, which did not augur much gratification at the
+prospect before him.  "By my faith, had not King Edward my father
+insisted thereon, then had I never come on so idle a journey.  When I
+looked every morrow for news from Bretagne, bidding me most likely
+thither, to trot over half England for an old dame's diversion were
+enough to try the patience of any knight on earth!  I shall not tarry
+long here, I do ensure you, his Highness' bidding fulfilled; and I trust
+your physician shall not long tarry me."
+
+Sir Godfrey and Lady Foljambe were full of expressions of sympathy.
+Lady Basset came forward, and spoke in a slightly cynical tone.
+
+"Good morrow, my Lord," said she to her brother.  "You came not to see
+me, I think, more in especial as I shall one of these days be an old
+woman, when your Grace's regard for me shall perish.  Father Jordan, I
+pray you, let it not be long ere you give leave for this loving son to
+have speech of his mother.  'Twere pity he should break his heart by
+tarrying."
+
+Father Jordan nervously intimated that if the Countess were not asleep,
+he saw no reason why his Grace's visit should be delayed at all.
+
+"Nay, but under your leave, my good host, I will eat first," said the
+Duke; "were it but to strengthen me for the ordeal which waiteth me."
+
+Lady Foljambe disappeared at once, on hospitable thoughts intent, and
+Sir Godfrey was profuse in apologies that the suggestion should have
+needed to come from the Duke.  But the only person in the hall who,
+except his sister, was not afraid of the Duke, stepped forth and spoke
+her mind.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+SATISFIED AT LAST.
+
+  "I am not eager, bold,
+  Nor strong--all that is past:
+  I'm ready _not_ to do,
+  At last--at last.
+
+  "My half-day's work is done,
+  And this is all my part;
+  I give a patient God
+  My patient heart.
+
+  "And grasp His banner still,
+  Though all its blue be dim:
+  These stripes, no less than stars,
+  Lead after Him."
+
+"Fair Lord," said Perrote de Carhaix, in the native tongue of both
+herself and the Duke, "I am your old nurse, who held you in her arms as
+a babe, and who taught your infant lips to speak.  I taught you the Ten
+Commandments of God; have you forgotten them? or do you call such words
+as you have spoken honouring your mother?  Is this the reward you pay
+her for her mother-love, for her thousand anxieties, for her risked
+life?  If it be so, God pardon you as He may!  But when you too reach
+that point which is the common lot of all humanity--when you too lie
+awaiting the dread summons of the inevitable angel who shall lead you
+either into the eternal darkness or the everlasting light, beware lest
+your dearest turn away from you, and act by you as you have done by
+her!"
+
+The Duke's black eyes shot forth fire.  He was an exceedingly passionate
+man.
+
+"Mademoiselle de Carhaix, do you know that you are my subject?"
+
+"I am aware of it, my Lord."
+
+"And that I could order your head struck off in yonder court?"
+
+"You could, if yonder court were in Bretagne.  In the realm of another
+sovereign, I scarcely think so, under your gracious pleasure.  But do
+you suppose I should be silent for that?  When God puts His words into
+the lips of His messengers, they must speak them out, whatever the
+result may be."
+
+"Mademoiselle considers herself, then, an inspired prophetess?" was the
+contemptuous response.
+
+"The Lord put His words once into the mouth of an ass," replied Perrote,
+meekly.  "I think I may claim to be an ass's equal.  I have spoken, fair
+Lord, and I shall add no more.  The responsibility lies now with you.
+My message is delivered, and I pray God to give you ears to hear."
+
+"Sir Godfrey Foljambe, is this the manner in which you think it meet
+that one of your household should address a Prince?"
+
+"Most gracious Lord, I am deeply distressed that this gentlewoman should
+so far have forgotten herself.  But I humbly pray your Grace to remember
+that she is but a woman; and women have small wit and much
+spitefulness."
+
+"In good sooth, I have need to remember it!" answered the Duke,
+wrathfully.  "I never thought, when I put myself to the pains to journey
+over half England to satisfy the fancies of a sick woman, that I was to
+be received with insult and contumely after this fashion.  I pray you to
+send this creature out of my sight, as the least reparation that can be
+offered for such an injury."
+
+"You need not, Sir," was the immediate reply of Perrote.  "I go, for
+mine errand is done.  And for the rest, may God judge between us, and He
+will."
+
+The Duke sat down to the collation hastily spread before him, with the
+air of an exceedingly injured man.  He would not have been quite so
+angry, if his own conscience had not been so provoking as to second
+every word of Perrote's reprimand.  And as it is never of the least use
+for a man to quarrel with his conscience, he could do nothing but make
+Perrote the scape-goat, unless, indeed, he had possessed sufficient
+grace and humility to accept and profit by the rebuke:--which in his
+eyes, was completely out of the question.  Had the Archbishop of York
+been the speaker, he might possibly have condescended so far.  But the
+whims of an old nurse--a subject--a woman--he told himself, must needs
+be utterly beneath the notice of any one so exalted.  The excellence of
+the medicine offered him could not even be considered, if it were
+presented in a vessel of common pottery, chipped at the edges.
+
+Notwithstanding his wrath, the Duke did sufficient justice to the
+collation; and he then demanded, if it must be, to be taken to his
+mother at once.  The sooner the ordeal was over, the better, and he did
+not mean to remain at Hazelwood an hour longer than could be helped.
+
+Lady Foljambe went up to prepare the Countess for the interview.  In her
+chamber she found not only Amphillis, who was on duty, but the
+Archbishop also.  He sat by the bed with the book of the Gospels in his
+hands--a Latin version, of course--from which he had been translating a
+passage to the invalid.
+
+"Well, what now, Avena?" faintly asked the Countess, who read news in
+Lady Foljambe's face.
+
+There was no time to break it very gradually, for Lady Foljambe knew
+that the Duke's impatience would not brook delay.
+
+"Dame," she said, shortly, "my Lord your son--"
+
+"Bring him in!" cried the Countess, in a voice of ecstasy, without
+allowing Lady Foljambe to finish her sentence.  How it was to end she
+seemed to have no doubt, and the sudden joy lent a fictitious strength
+to her enfeebled frame.  "Bring him in! my Jean, my darling, my little
+lad!  Said I not the lad should never forsake his old mother?  Bring him
+in!"
+
+Lady Foljambe drew back to allow the Duke to enter, for his step was
+already audible.  He came in, and stood by the bed--tall, upright,
+silent.
+
+"My Jean!" cried the dying mother.
+
+"Madame!" was the answer, decorous and icy.
+
+"Kiss me, my Jean!  Why dost thou not kiss me?  Lad, I have not seen
+thee all these weary years!"
+
+The Duke, in a very proper manner, kissed the weak old hand which was
+stretched out towards him.  His lips were warm, but his kiss was as cold
+as a kiss well could be.
+
+"Madame," said the Duke, mindful of the proprieties, "it gives me
+indescribable grief to find you thus.  I am also deeply distressed that
+it should be impossible for me to remain with you.  I expect news from
+Bretagne every day--almost every hour--which I hope will summon me back
+thither to triumph over my rebellious subjects, and to resume my throne
+in victory.  You will, therefore, grant me excuse if it be impossible
+for me to do more than kiss your hand and entreat your blessing."
+
+"Not stay, my Jean!" she said, in piteous accents.  "Not stay, when thou
+hast come so far to see me!  Dost thou know that I am dying?"
+
+"Madame, I am infinitely grieved to perceive it.  But reasons of state
+are imperative and paramount."
+
+"My Lord will pardon me for observing," said the Archbishop's voice,
+"with a royal kinsman of his own, that God may grant him many kingdoms,
+but he can never have but one mother."
+
+The Duke's answer was in his haughtiest manner.  "I assure you of my
+regret, holy Father.  Necessity has no law."
+
+"And no compassion?"
+
+"Jean, my Jean!  Only one minute more--one minute cannot be of
+importance.  My little lad, my best-loved! lay thy lips to mine, and say
+thou lovest thine old mother, and let me bless thee, and then go, if it
+must be, and I will die."
+
+Amphillis wondered that the piteous passion of love in the tones of the
+poor mother did not break down entirely the haughty coldness of the
+royal son.  The Duke did indeed bend his stately knee, and touch his
+mother's lips with his, but there was no shadow of response to her
+clinging clasp, no warmth, however faint, in the kiss into which she
+poured her whole heart.
+
+"Jean, little Jean! say thou lovest me?"
+
+"Madame, it is a son's duty.  I pray your blessing."
+
+"I bless thee with my whole heart!" she said.  "I pray God bless thee in
+every hour of thy life, grant thee health, happiness, and victory, and
+crown thee at last with everlasting bliss.  Now go, my dear heart!  The
+old mother will not keep thee to thy hurt.  God be with thee, and bless
+thee!"
+
+Even then he did not linger; he did not even give her, unsolicited, one
+last kiss.  She raised herself on one side, to look after him and listen
+to him to the latest moment, the light still beaming in her sunken eyes.
+His parting words were not addressed to her, but she heard them.
+
+"Now then, Du Chatel," said the Duke to his squire in the corridor, "let
+us waste no more time.  This irksome duty done, I would be away
+immediately, lest I be called back."
+
+The light died out of the eager eyes, and the old white head sank back
+upon the pillow, the face turned away from the watchers.  Amphillis
+approached her, and tenderly smoothed the satin coverlet.
+
+"Let be!" she said, in a low voice.  "My heart is broken."
+
+Amphillis, who could scarcely restrain her own sobs, glanced at the
+Archbishop for direction.  He answered her by pressing a finger on his
+lips.  Perrote came in, her lips set, and her brows drawn.  She had
+evidently overheard those significant words.  Then they heard the tramp
+of the horses in the courtyard, the sound of the trumpet, the cry of
+"Notre Dame de Gwengamp!" and they knew that the Duke was departing.
+They did not know, however, that the parting guest was sped by a few
+exceedingly scathing words from his sister, who had heard his remark to
+the squire.  She informed him, in conclusion, that he could strike off
+her head, if he had no compunction in staining his spotless ermine
+banner with his own kindly blood.  It would make very little difference
+to her, and, judging by the way in which he used his dying mother, she
+was sure it could make none to him.
+
+The Duke flung himself into his saddle, and dashed off down the slope
+from the gate without deigning either a response or a farewell.
+
+As the Archbishop left the Countess's chamber, he beckoned Amphillis
+into the corridor.
+
+"I tarry not," said he, "for I can work no good now.  This is not the
+time.  A stricken heart hath none ears.  Leave her be, and leave her to
+God.  I go to pray Him to speak to her that comfort which she may
+receive alone from Him.  None other can do her any help.  To-morrow,
+maybe--when the vexed brain hath slept, and gentle time hath somewhat
+dulled the first sharp edge of her cruel sorrow--then I may speak and be
+heard.  But now she is in that valley of the shadow, where no voice can
+reach her save that which once said, `Lazarus, come forth!' and which
+the dead shall hear in their graves at the last day."
+
+"God comfort her, poor Lady!" said Amphillis.  "Ay, God comfort her!"
+And the Archbishop passed on.
+
+He made no further attempt to enter the invalid chamber until the
+evening of the next day, when he came in very softly, after a word with
+Perrote--no part of any house was ever closed against a priest--and sat
+down by the sufferer.  She lay much as he had left her.  He offered no
+greeting, but took out his Evangelistarium from the pocket of his
+cassock, and began to read in a low, calm voice.
+
+"`The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, for He hath anointed Me; He hath
+sent Me to evangelise the poor, to heal the contrite in heart, to preach
+liberty to the captives and sight to the blind, to set the bruised at
+liberty, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of
+retribution.'"  [Luke four, verses 18, 19, Vulgate version.]
+
+There was no sound in answer.  The Archbishop turned over a few leaves.
+
+"`Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will
+refresh you.'  [Matthew nine, verse 28.]  `And God shall dry all tears
+from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor
+clamour, nor shall there be any more pain.'  [Revelations twenty-one,
+verse 4.]  `Trouble not your heart: believe in God, and believe in Me.'
+`Peace I bequeath to you, My peace I give to you: not as the world
+giveth, give I to you.  Trouble not your heart, neither be it afraid.'
+[John fourteen, verses 1, 27.]  `Whom the Lord loveth, He chastiseth;
+and whippeth also every son whom He receiveth.'"  [Hebrews twelve, verse
+6.]
+
+He read or quoted from memory, as passages occurred to him.  When he had
+reached this point he made a pause.  A deep sigh answered him, but no
+words.
+
+"`And he looked round about on them which sat about Him, and said,
+Behold My mother and My brethren!  For whosoever shall do the will of
+God, the same is My brother, and My sister, and mother.'"
+
+"I dare say He kissed His mother!" said the low plaintive voice.  She
+evidently knew of whom the reader spoke.  "The world giveth not much
+peace.  `Heavy-laden!' ay, heavy-laden!  `Thou hast removed from me
+friend and neighbour.'  I have lost my liberty, and I am losing my life;
+and now--God have mercy on me!--I have lost my son."
+
+"Dame, will you take for your son the Lord that died for you?  He offers
+Himself to you.  `The same is My mother.'  He will give you not love
+only, but a son's love, and that warm and undying.  `With perpetual
+charity I delighted in thee,' He saith; `wherefore, pitying, I drew thee
+to Me.'  Oh, my daughter, let Him draw thee!"
+
+"What you will, Father," was the low answer.  "I have no bodily
+strength; pray you, make not the penance heavier than I can do.
+Elsewise, what you will.  My will is broken; nothing matters any more
+now.  I scarce thought it should have so been--at the end.  Howbeit,
+God's will be done.  It must be done."
+
+"My daughter, `this is the will of God, your sanctification.'  The end
+and object of all penances, of all prayers, is that you may be joined to
+Christ.  `For He is our peace,' and we are `in Him complete.'  In Him--
+not in your penances, nor in yourself.  If so were that my Lord Basset
+had done you grievous wrong, it might be you forgave him fully, not for
+anything in him, but only because he is one with your own daughter, and
+you could not strike him without smiting her; his dishonour is her
+dishonour, his peace is her peace, to punish him were to punish her.  So
+is it with the soul that is joined to Christ.  If He be exalted, it must
+be exalted; if it be rejected, He is rejected also.  And God cannot
+reject His own Son."
+
+The Archbishop was not at all sure that the Countess was listening to
+him.  She kept her face turned away.  He rose and wished her good
+evening.  The medicine must not be administered in an overdose, or it
+might work more harm than good.
+
+He came again on the following evening, and gave her a little more.  For
+three days after he pursued the same course, and, further than courtesy
+demanded, he was not answered a word.  On the fourth night he found the
+face turned.  A pitiful face, whose aspect went to his heart--wan,
+white, haggard, unutterably pathetic.  That night he read the fourteenth
+chapter of Saint John's Gospel, and added few words of his own.  On
+leaving her, he said--
+
+"My daughter, God is more pitiful than men, and His love is better than
+theirs."
+
+"It had need be so!" were the only words that replied.  In the corridor
+he met Father Jordan.  The Archbishop stopped.
+
+"How fareth she in the body?"
+
+"As ill as she may be, and live.  Her life is counted by hours."
+
+The Archbishop stood at the large oriel of stained glass at the end of
+the corridor, looking out on the spring evening--the buds just beginning
+to break, the softened gold of the western sky.  His heart was very
+full.
+
+"O Father of the everlasting age!" he said aloud, "all things are
+possible unto Thee, and Thou hast eternity to work in.  Suffer not this
+burdened heart to depart ere Thou hast healed it with Thine eternal
+peace!  Grant Thy rest to the heavy-laden, Thy mercy to her on whom man
+hath had so little mercy!  Was it not for this Thou earnest, O Saviour
+of the world?  Good Shepherd, wilt Thou not go after this lost sheep
+until Thou find it?"
+
+The next night the silence was broken.
+
+"Father," she said, "tell me if I err.  It looks to me, from the words
+you read, as if our Lord lacketh not penances and prayers, and good
+works; He only wants _me_, and that by reason that He loveth me.  And
+why all this weary life hath been mine, He knoweth, and I am content to
+leave it so, if only He will take me up in His arms as the shepherd doth
+the sheep, and will suffer me to rest my weariness there.  Do I err,
+Father?"
+
+"My daughter, you accept the gospel of God's peace.  This it is to come
+to Him, and He shall give you rest."
+
+The work was done.  The proud spirit had stooped to the yoke.  The
+bitter truth against which she had so long fought and struggled was
+accepted at the pierced hands which wounded her only for her healing.
+That night she called Lady Basset to her.
+
+"My little girl, my Jeanne!" she said, "I was too hard on thee.  I loved
+thy brother the best, and I defrauded thee of the love which was thy
+due.  And now thou hast come forty miles to close mine eyes, and he
+turneth away, and will have none of me.  Jeanette, darling, take my
+dying blessing, and may God deal with thee as thou hast dealt by the old
+mother, and pay thee back an hundredfold the love thou hast given me!
+Kiss me, sweet heart, and forgive me the past."
+
+Two days later, the long journey by the way of the wilderness was over.
+On the 18th of March, 1374, Perrote folded the aged, wasted hands upon
+the now quiet breast.
+
+  "All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow,
+  All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,
+  All the dull, deep pain, and the constant anguish of patience!
+  And as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom,
+  Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, `Father, I thank Thee!'"
+
+The fate which had harassed poor Marguerite in life pursued her to the
+very grave.  There was no sumptuous funeral, no solemn hearse, no regal
+banners of arms for her.  Had there been any such thing, it would have
+left its trace on the Wardrobe Rolls of the year.  There was not even a
+court mourning.  It was usual then for the funerals of royal persons to
+be deferred for months after the death, in order to make the ceremony
+more magnificent.  But now, in the twilight of the second evening, which
+was Monday, a quiet procession came silently across from the Manor House
+to the church, headed by Father Jordan; twelve poor men bore torches
+beside the bier; the Mass for the Dead was softly sung, and those
+beautiful, pathetic words which for ages rose beside the waiting
+coffin:--
+
+  "King of awful majesty,
+  By Thy mercy full and free,
+  Fount of mercy, pardon me!
+
+  "Think, O Saviour, in what way
+  On Thine head my trespass lay;
+  Let me not be lost that day!
+
+  "Thou wert weary seeking me;
+  On Thy cross Thou mad'st me free;
+  Lose not all Thine agony!"
+
+Then they prayed for her everlasting rest--not joy.  The thought of
+active bliss could hardly be associated with that weary soul.  "Jesus,
+grant her Thine eternal rest!"  And the villagers crept round with bared
+heads, and whispered to one another that they were burying the White
+Lady--that mysterious prisoner whom no one ever saw, who never came to
+church, nor set foot outside the walls of her prison; and they dimly
+guessed some thousandth part of the past pathos of that shadowed life,
+and they joined in the Amen.  And over her grave were set up no
+sculptured figure and table tomb, only one slab of pure white marble,
+carved with a cross, and beneath it, the sole epitaph of Marguerite of
+Flanders, the heroine of Hennebon,--"Mercy, Jesu!"  So they left her to
+her rest.
+
+Ten years later, in a quiet Manor House near Furness Abbey, a knight's
+wife was telling a story to her three little girls.
+
+"And you called me after her, Mother!" said little fair-haired Margaret.
+
+"But what became of the naughty man who didn't want to come and see his
+poor mother when she was so sick and unhappy, Mother?" asked
+compassionate little Regina.
+
+"Naughty man!" echoed Baby Perrotine.
+
+Lady Hylton stroked her little Margaret's hair.
+
+"He led not a happy life, my darlings; but we will not talk about him.
+Ay, little Meg, I called thee after the poor White Lady.  I pray God
+thou mayest give thine heart to Him earlier than she did, and not have
+to walk with weary feet along her wilderness way.  Let us thank God for
+our happy life, and love each other as much as we can."
+
+A hand which she had not known was there was laid upon her head.
+
+"Thinkest thou we can do that, my Phyllis, any better than now?" asked
+Sir Norman Hylton.
+
+"We can all try," said Amphillis, softly.  "And God, our God, shall
+bless us."
+
+
+
+APPENDIX.
+
+Marguerite of Flanders, Countess of Montfort, was the only daughter of
+Loys de Nevers, eldest surviving son of Robert the First, Count of
+Flanders (who predeceased his father), and of Marie or Jeanne, daughter
+of the Count de Rethel.  She had one brother, Count Loys the First of
+Flanders, who fell at Crecy.  Many modern writers call her Jeanne; but
+her name in the contemporary public records of England is invariably
+Margareta.  Her birth probably took place about 1310, and it may have
+been about 1335 that she married Jean of Bretagne, Count de Montfort, a
+younger son of Duke Arthur the Second.
+
+Duke Arthur, the son of Beatrice of England, had been twice married--to
+Marie of Limoges and Violette of Dreux, Countess of Montfort in her own
+right.  With other issue who are not concerned in the story, he had by
+Marie two sons, Duke Jean the Third and Guyon; and by Violette one, Jean
+Count of Montfort, the husband of Marguerite.  On the childless death of
+Jean the Third in 1341, a war of succession arose between the daughter
+of his deceased brother Guyon, and his half-brother the Count of
+Montfort.  The daughter, Jeanne la Boiteuse, claimed the right to
+represent her father Guyon, while Montfort stood by the law of
+non-representation, according to which no deceased prince could be
+represented by his child, and the younger brother even by the half-blood
+was considered a nearer relative than the child of the elder.  The King
+of France took the part of Jeanne and her husband, Charles de Blois; he
+captured the Count of Montfort, and imprisoned him in the Louvre.  The
+Countess Marguerite, "who had the heart of a lion," thenceforth carried
+on the war on behalf of her husband and son.  In the spring of 1342 she
+obtained the help of King Edward the Third of England, which however was
+fitfully rendered, as he took either side in turn to suit his own
+convenience.  Some account of her famous exploits is given in the story,
+and is familiar to every reader of Froissart's Chronicle.  Shortly after
+this the Countess brought her son to England, and betrothed him to the
+King's infant daughter Mary; but she soon returned to Bretagne.  In 1345
+the Count of Montfort escaped from his prison in the disguise of a
+pedlar, and arrived in England: but the King was not at that time
+disposed to assist him, and Montfort took the refusal so much to heart
+that--probably combined with already failing health--it killed him in
+the following September.  When the war was reopened, the Countess took
+captive her rival Charles de Blois, and brought him to England.  The
+King appointed her residence in Tickhill Castle, granting the very small
+sum of 15 pounds per annum for her expenses "there or wherever we may
+order her to be taken, while she remains in our custody."  (Patent Roll,
+25 Edward the Third, Part 3.)  It is evident that while treated overtly
+as a guest, the Countess was in reality a prisoner: a fact yet more
+forcibly shown by an entry in December, 1348, recording the payment of
+60 shillings expenses to John Burdon for his journey to Tickhill, "to
+bring up to London the Duchess of Bretagne and the knight who ran away
+with her."  This seems to have been an attempt to free the prisoner, to
+whom, as the upholder of her husband's claim on the throne of Bretagne,
+the King of course accorded the title of Duchess.  The testimony of the
+records henceforward is at variance with that of the chroniclers, the
+latter representing Marguerite as making sundry journeys to Bretagne in
+company with her son and others, and as being to all intents at liberty.
+The Rolls, on the contrary, when she is named, invariably speak of her
+as a prisoner in Tickhill Castle, in keeping of Sir John Delves, and
+after his death, of his widow Isabel.  That the Rolls are the superior
+authority there can be no question.
+
+The imprisonment of Charles de Blois was very severe.  He offered a
+heavy ransom and his two elder sons as hostages; King Edward demanded
+400,000 deniers, and afterwards 100,000 gold florins.  In 1356 Charles
+was released, his sons Jean and Guyon taking his place.  They were
+confined first in Nottingham Castle, and in 1377 were removed to
+Devizes, where Guyon died about Christmas 1384.  In 1362 Edward and
+Charles agreed on a treaty, which Jeanne refused to ratify, alleging
+that she would lose her life, or two if she had them, rather than
+relinquish her claims to young Montfort.  Two years later Charles was
+killed at the battle of Auray, and Jeanne thereon accepted a settlement
+which made Montfort Duke of Bretagne, reserving to herself the county of
+Penthievre, the city of Limoges, and a sum of ten thousand _livres
+Tournois_.
+
+The only authority hitherto discovered giving any hint of the history of
+Marguerite after this date, is a contemporary romance, _Le Roman de la
+Comtesse de Montfort_, which states that she retired to the Castle of
+Lucinio, near Vannes, and passed the rest of her life in tranquillity.
+Even Mrs Everett Green, in her _Lives of the Princesses of England_,
+accepted this as a satisfactory conclusion.  It was, indeed, the only
+one known.  But two entries on the public records of England entirely
+dissipate this comfortable illusion.  On 26th September 1369, the Patent
+Roll states that "we allowed 105 pounds per annum to John Delves for the
+keeping of the noble lady, the Duchess of Bretagne; and we now grant to
+Isabel his widow, for so long a time as the said Duchess shall be in her
+keeping, the custody of the manor of Walton-on-Trent, value 22 pounds,"
+and 52 pounds from other lands.  (Patent Roll, 43 Edward the Third, Part
+2.)  The allowance originally made had evidently been increased.  The
+hapless prisoner, however, was not left long in the custody of Isabel
+Delves.  She was transferred to that of Sir Godfrey Foljambe, whose
+wife, Avena Ireland, was daughter of Avena de Holand, aunt of Joan
+Duchess of Bretagne, the second wife of young Montfort.  Lastly, a Post
+Mortem Inquisition, taken in 1374, announces that "Margaret Duchess of
+Bretagne died at Haselwood, in the county of Derby, on the 18th of
+March, 48 Edward the Third, being sometime in the custody of Godfrey
+Foljambe."  (Inquisitions of Exchequer, 47-8 Edward the Third, county
+Derbyshire).
+
+It is therefore placed beyond question that the Countess of Montfort
+died a prisoner in England, at a date when her son had been for ten
+years an independent sovereign, and though on friendly terms with Edward
+the Third, was no longer a suppliant for his favour.  Can it have
+occurred without his knowledge and sanction?  He was in England when she
+died, but there is no indication that he ever went to see her, and her
+funeral, as is shown by the silence of the Wardrobe Rolls, was without
+any ceremony.  Considering the character of the Duke--"violent in all
+his feelings, loving to madness, hating to fury, and rarely overcoming a
+prejudice once entertained"--the suspicion is aroused that all the early
+sacrifices made by his mother, all the gallant defence of his dominions,
+the utter self-abnegation and the tender love, were suffered to pass by
+him as the idle wind, in order that he might revenge himself upon her
+for the one occasion on which she prevented him from breaking his
+pledged word to King Edward's daughter, and committing a _mesalliance_
+with Alix de Ponteallen.  For this, or at any rate for some thwarting of
+his will, he seems never to have forgiven her.
+
+Marguerite left two children--Duke Jean the Fourth, born 1340, died
+November 1, 1399: he married thrice,--Mary of England, Joan de Holand,
+and Juana of Navarre--but left no issue by any but the last, and by her
+a family of nine children, the eldest being only twelve years old when
+he died.  Strange to say, he named one of his daughters after his
+discarded mother.  His sister Jeanne, who was probably his senior, was
+originally affianced to Jean of Blois, the long-imprisoned son of
+Charles and Jeanne: she married, however, Ralph, last Lord Basset of
+Drayton, and died childless, November 8, 1403.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The White Lady of Hazelwood, by Emily Sarah Holt
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