CHAPTER XVI
THE VOICE IN THE FOREST
The four were back safe in their lodging in Cheapside, whither, after
the deeds had been sealed, three soldiers escorted them by command.
"Have we done well, have we done well?" asked Jacob, rubbing his
hands.
"It would seem so, Master Smith," replied Cicely, "thanks to you; that
is, if all the King said is really in those writings."
"It is there sure enough," said Jacob; "for know, that with the aid of
a lawyer and three scriveners, I drafted them myself in the Lord
Cromwell's office this morning, and oh, I drew them wide. Hard, hard
we worked with no time for dinner, and that was why I was ten minutes
late by the clock, for which Emlyn here chided me so sharply. Still,
I'll read them through again, and if aught is left out we will have it
righted, though these are the same parchments, for I set a secret mark
upon them."
"Nay, nay," said Cicely, "leave well alone. His Grace's mood may
change, or the Queen--that matter of the pearl."
"Ah, the pearl, it grieved me to part with that beautiful pearl. But
there was no way out, it must be sold and the money handed over, our
honour is on it. Had I refused, who knows? Yes, we may thank God, for
if the most of your jewels are gone, the wide Abbey lands have come
and other things. Nothing is forgot. Bolle is unfrocked and may wed;
Cousin Stower has got a husband----"
Then Emlyn, who until now had been strangely silent, burst out in
wrath----
"Am I, then, a beast that I should be given to this man like a heriot
at yonder King's bidding?" she exclaimed, pointing with her finger at
Bolle, who stood in the corner. "Who gave you the right, Thomas, to
demand me in marriage?"
"Well, since you ask me, Emlyn, it was you yourself; once, many years
ago, down in the mead by the water, and more lately in the chapel of
Blossholme Priory before I began to play the devil."
"Play the devil! Aye, you have played the devil with me. There in the
King's presence I must stand for an hour or more while all talked and
never let a word slip between my lips, and at last hear myself called
by his Grace a woman of temper and you a fool for wishing to marry me.
Oh, if ever we do marry, I'll prove his words."
"Then perhaps, Emlyn, we who have got on a long while apart, had best
stay so," answered Thomas calmly. "Yet, why you should fret because
you must keep your tongue in its case for an hour, or because I asked
leave to marry you in all honour, I do not know. I have worked my best
for you and your mistress at some hazard, and things have not gone so
ill, seeing that now we are quit of blame and in a fair way to peace
and comfort. If you are not content, why then, the King was right, and
I'm a fool, and so good-bye, I'll trouble you no more in fair weather
or in foul. I have leave to marry, and there are other women in the
world should I need one."
"Tread on their tails and even worms will turn," soliloquized Jacob,
while Emlyn burst into tears.
Cicely ran to console her, and Bolle made as though he would leave the
room.
Just then there came a great knocking on the street door, and the
sound of a voice crying--
"In the King's name! In the King's name, open!"
"That's Commissioner Legh," said Thomas. "I learned the cry from him,
and it is a good one at a pinch, as some of you may remember."
Emlyn dried her tears with her sleeve; Cicely sat down and Jacob
shovelled the parchments into his big pockets. Then in burst the
Commissioner, to whom some one had opened.
"What's this I hear?" he cried, addressing Cicely, his face as red as
a turkey cock's. "That you have been working behind my back; that you
have told falsehoods of me to his Grace, who called me knave and
thief; that I am commanded to pay my fees into the Treasury? Oh,
ungrateful wench, would to God that I had let you burn ere you
disgraced me thus."
"If you bring so much heat into my poor house, learned Doctor, surely
all of us will soon burn," said Jacob suavely. "The Lady Harflete said
nothing that his Highness did not force her to say, as I know who was
present, and among so many pickings cannot you spare a single dole?
Come, come, drink a cup of wine and be calm."
But Dr. Legh, who had already drunk several cups of wine, would not be
calm. He reviled first one of them and then the other, but especially
Emlyn, whom he conceived to be the cause of all his woes, till at
length he called her by a very ill name. Then came forward Thomas
Bolle, who all this while had been standing in the corner, and took
him by the neck.
"In the King's name!" he said, "nay, complain not, 'tis your own cry
and I have warrant for it," and he knocked Legh's head against the
door-post. "In the King's name, get out of this," and he gave him such
a kick as never Royal Commissioner had felt before, shooting him down
the passage. "For the third time in the King's name!" and he hurled
him out in a heap into the courtyard. "Begone, and know if ever I see
your pudding face again, in the King's name, I'll break your neck!"
Thus did Visitor Legh depart out of the life of Cicely, though in due
course she paid him her first year's rent, nor ever asked who took the
benefit.
"Thomas," said Emlyn, when he returned smiling at the memory of that
farewell kick, "the King was right, I am quick-tempered at times, no
ill thing for it has helped me more than once. Forget, and so will I,"
and she gave him her hand, which he kissed, then went to see about the
supper.
While they ate, which they did heartily who needed food, there came
another knock.
"Go, Thomas," said Jacob, "and say we see none to-night."
So Thomas went and they heard talk. Then he re-entered followed by a
cloaked man, saying--
"Here is a visitor whom I dare not deny," whereon they all rose,
thinking in their folly that it was the King himself, and not one
almost as mighty in England for a while--the Lord Cromwell.
"Pardon me," said Cromwell, bowing in his courteous manner, "and if
you will, let me be seated with you, and give me a bite and a sup, for
I need them, who have been hard-worked to-day."
So he sat down among them, and ate and drank, talking pleasantly of
many things, and telling them that the King had changed his mind at
the Council, as he thought, because of the words of Thomas Bolle,
which he believed had stuck there, and would not go north to fight the
rebels after all, but would send the Duke of Norfolk and other lords.
Then when he had done he pushed away his cup and platter, looked at
his hosts and said--
"Now to business. My Lady Harflete, fortune has been your friend this
day, for all you asked has been granted to you, which, as his Grace's
temper has been of late, is a wondrous thing. Moreover, I thank you
that you did not answer a certain question as to myself which I learn
he put to you urgently."
"My Lord," said Cicely, "you have befriended me. Still, had he pressed
me further, God knows. Commissioner Legh did not thank me to-night,"
and she told him of the visit they had just received, and of its
ending.
"A rough man and a greedy, who doubtless henceforth will be your
enemy," replied Cromwell. "Still you were not to blame, for who can
reason with a bull in his own yard? Well, while I have power I'll not
forget your faithfulness, though in truth, my Lady of Blossholme, I
sit upon a slippery height, and beneath waits a gulf that has
swallowed some as great, and greater. Therefore I will not deny it, I
lay by while I may, not knowing who will gather."
He brooded a while, then went on, with a sigh--
"The times are uncertain; thus, you who have the promise of wealth may
yet die a beggar. The lands of Blossholme Abbey, on which you hold a
bond that will never be redeemed, are not yet in the King's hands to
give. A black storm is bursting in the north and, I say this in
secret, the fury of it may sweep Henry from the throne. If it should
be so, away with you to any land where you are not known, for then
after this day's work here a rope will be your only heritage. More,
this Queen, unlike Anne who is gone, is a friend to the party of the
Church, and though she affects to care little for such things, is
bitter about that pearl, and therefore against you, its owner. Have
you no jewel left that you could spare which I might take to her? As
for the pearl itself, which Master Smith here swore to me was not to
be found in the whole world when he showed me its fellow, it must be
sold as the King commanded," and he looked at Jacob somewhat sourly.
Now Cicely spoke with Jacob, who went away and returned presently with
a brooch in which was set a large white diamond surrounded by five
small rubies.
"Take her this with my duty, my Lord," said Cicely.
"I will, I will. Oh! fear not, it shall reach her for my own sake as
well as yours. You are a wise giver, Lady Harflete, who know when and
where to cast your bread upon the waters. And now I have a gift for
you that perchance will please you more than gems. Your husband,
Christopher Harflete, accompanied by a servant, has landed in the
north safe and well."
"Oh, my Lord," she cried, "then where is he now?"
"Alas! the rest of the tale is not so pleasing, for as he journeyed,
from Hull I think, he was taken prisoner by the rebels, who have him
fast at Lincoln, wishing to make him, whose name is of account, one of
their company. But he being a wise and loyal man, contrived to send a
letter to the King's captain in those parts, which has reached me this
night. Here it is, do you know the writing?"
"Aye, aye," gasped Cicely, staring at the scrawl that was ill writ and
worse spelt, for Christopher was no scholar.
"Then I'll read it to you, and afterwards certify a copy to multiply
the evidence."
"To the Captain of the King's Forces outside Lincoln.
"This to give notice to you, his Grace, and his ministers and all
others, that we, Christopher Harflete, Knight, and Jeffrey Stokes,
his servant, when journeying from the seaport whither we had come
from Spain, were taken by rebels in arms against the King and
brought here to Lincoln. These men would win me to their party
because the name of Harflete is still strong and known. So violent
were they that we have taken some kind of oath. Yet this writing
advises you that so I only did to save my life, having no heart
that way who am a loyal man and understand little of their
quarrel. Life, in sooth, is of small value to me who have lost
wife, lands and all. Yet ere I die I would be avenged upon the
murderous Abbot of Blossholme, and therefore I seek to keep my
breath in me and to escape.
"I learn that the said Abbot is afoot with a great following within
fifty miles of here. Pray God he does not get his claws in me
again, but if so, say to the King, that Harflete died faithful.
"Christopher Harflete.
"Jeffrey Stokes, † his mark."
"My Lord," said Cicely, "what shall I do, my Lord?"
"There is naught to be done, save trust in God and hope for the best.
Doubtless he will escape, and at least his Grace shall see this letter
to-morrow morning and send orders to help him if may be. Copy it,
Master Smith."
Jacob took the letter and began to write swiftly, while Cromwell
thought.
"Listen," he said presently. "Round Blossholme there are no rebels,
all of that colour have drawn off north. Now Foterell and Harflete are
good names yonder, cannot you journey thither and raise a company?"
"Aye, aye, that I can do," broke in Bolle. "In a week I will have a
hundred men at my back. Give commission and money to my Lady there and
name me captain and you'll see."
"The commission and the captaincy under the privy signet shall be at
this house by nine of the clock to-morrow," answered Cromwell. "The
money you must find, for there is none outside the coffers of Jacob
Smith. Yet pause, Lady Harflete, there is risk and here you are safe."
"I know the risk," she answered, "but what do I care for risks who
have taken so many, when my husband is yonder and I may serve him?"
"An excellent spirit, let us trust that it comes from on high,"
remarked Cromwell; but old Jacob, as he wrote /vera copia/ for his
Lordship's signature at the foot of the transcript of Christopher's
letter, shook his head sadly.
In another minute Cromwell had signed without troubling to compare the
two, and with some gentle words of farewell was gone, having bigger
matters waiting his attention.
Cicely never saw him again, indeed with the exception of Jacob Smith
she never saw any of those folk again, including the King, who had
been concerned in this crisis of her life. Yet, notwithstanding his
cunning and his extortion, she grieved for Cromwell when some four
years later the Duke of Suffolk and the Earl of Southampton rudely
tore the Garter and his other decorations off his person and he was
haled from the Council to the Tower, and thence after abject
supplications for mercy, to perish a criminal upon the block. At least
he had served her well, for he kept all his promises to the letter.
One of his last acts also was to send her back the pink pearl which he
had received as a bribe from Jacob Smith, with a message to the effect
that he was sure it would become her more than it had him, and that he
hoped it would bring her a better fortune.
When Cromwell had gone Jacob turned to Cicely and inquired if she were
leaving his house upon the morrow.
"Have I not said so?" she asked, with impatience. "Knowing what I know
how could I stay in London? Why do you ask?"
"Because I must balance our account. I think you owe me a matter of
twenty marks for rent and board. Also it is probable that we shall
need money for our journey, and this day has left me somewhat bare of
coin."
"Our journey?" said Cicely. "Do you, then, accompany us, Master
Smith?"
"With your leave I think so, Lady. Times are bad here, I have no
shilling left to lend, yet if I do not lend I shall never be forgiven.
Also I need a holiday, and ere I die would once again see Blossholme,
where I was born, should we live to reach it. But if we start
to-morrow I have much to do this night. For instance, your jewels
which I hold in pawn must be set in a place of safety; also these
deeds, whereof copies should be made, and that pearl must be left in
trusty hands for sale. So at what hour do we ride on this mad errand?"
"At eleven of the clock," answered Cicely, "if the King's safe-conduct
and commission have come by then."
"So be it. Then I bid you good-night. Come with me, worthy Bolle, for
there'll be no sleep for us. I go to call my clerks and you must go to
the stable. Lady Harflete and you, Cousin Emlyn, get you to bed."
On the following morning Cicely rose with the dawn, nor was she sorry
to do so, who had spent but a troubled night. For long sleep would not
come to her, and when it did at length, she was tossed upon a sea of
dreams, dreams of the King, who threatened her with his great voice;
of Cromwell, who took everything she had down to her cloak; of
Commissioner Legh, who dragged her back to the stake because he had
lost his bribe.
But most of all she dreamed of Christopher, her beloved husband, who
was so near and yet as far away as he had ever been, a prisoner in the
hands of the rebels; her husband who deemed her dead.
From all these phantasies she awoke weeping and oppressed by fears.
Could it be that when at length the cup of joy was so near her lips
fate waited to dash it down again? She knew not, who had naught but
faith to lean on, that faith which in the past had served her well.
Meanwhile, she was sure that if Christopher lived he would make his
way to Cranwell or to Blossholme, and, whatever the risk, thither she
would go also as fast as horses could carry her.
Hurry as they would, midday was an hour gone ere they rode out of
Cheapside. There was so much to do, and even then things were left
undone. The four of them travelled humbly clad, giving out that they
were a party of merchant folk returning to Cambridge after a visit to
London as to an inheritance in which they were interested, especially
Cicely, who posed as a widow named Johnson. This was their story,
which they varied from time to time according to circumstances. In
some ways their minds were more at ease than when they travelled to
the great city, for now at least they were clear of the horrid company
of Commissioner Legh and his people, nor were they haunted by the
knowledge that they had about them jewels of great price. All these
jewels were left behind in safe keeping, as were also the writings
under the King's hand and seal, of which they only took attested
copies, and with them the commission that Cromwell had duly sent to
Cicely addressed to her husband and herself, and Bolle's certificate
of captaincy. These they hid in their boots or the linings of their
vests, together with such money as was necessary for the costs of
travel.
Thus riding hard, for their horses were good and fresh, they came
unmolested to Cambridge on the night of the second day and slept
there. Beyond Cambridge, they were told, the country was so disturbed
that it would not be safe for them to journey. But just when they were
in despair, for even Bolle said that they must not go on, a troop of
the King's horse arrived on their way to join the Duke of Norfolk
wherever he might lie in Lincolnshire.
To their captain, one Jeffreys, Jacob showed the King's commission,
revealing who they were. Seeing that it commanded all his Grace's
officers and servants to do them service, this Captain Jeffreys said
that he would give them escort until their roads separated. So next
day they went on again. The company was not pleasant, for the men, of
whom there were about a hundred, proved rough fellows, still, having
been warned that he who insulted or laid a finger on them should be
hanged, they did them no harm. It was well, indeed, that they had
their protection, for they found the country through which they passed
up in arms, and were more than once threatened by mobs of peasants,
led by priests, who would have attacked them had they dared.
For two days they travelled thus with Captain Jeffreys, coming on the
evening of the second to Peterborough, where they found lodgings at an
inn. When they rose the next morning, however, it was to discover that
Jeffreys and his men had already gone, leaving a message to say that
he had received urgent orders to push on to Lincoln.
Now once more they told their old tale, declaring that they were
citizens of Boston, and having learned that the Fens were peaceful,
perhaps because so few people lived in them, started forward by
themselves under the guidance of Bolle, who had often journeyed
through that country, buying or selling cattle for the monks. An ill
land was it to travel in also in that wet autumn, seeing that in many
places the floods were out and the tracks were like a quagmire. The
first night they spent in a marshman's hut, listening to the pouring
rain and fearing fever and ague, especially for the boy. The next day,
by good fortune, they reached higher land and slept at a tavern.
Here they were visited by rude men, who, being of the party of
rebellion, sought to know their business. For a while things were
dangerous, but Bolle, who could talk their own dialect, showed that
they were scarcely to be feared who travelled with two women and a
babe, adding that he was a lay-brother of Blossholme Abbey disguised
as a serving-man for dread of the King's party. Jacob Smith also
called for ale and drank with them to the success of the Pilgrimage of
Grace, as their revolt was named.
In this way they disarmed suspicion with one tale and another.
Moreover, they heard that as yet the country round Blossholme remained
undisturbed, although it was said that the Abbot had fortified the
Abbey and stored it with provisions. He himself was with the leaders
of the revolt in the neighbourhood of Lincoln, but he had done this
that he might have a strong place to fall back on.
So in the end the men went away full of strong beer, and that danger
passed by.
Next morning they started forward early, hoping to reach Blossholme by
sunset though the days were shortening much. This, however, was not to
be, for as it chanced they were badly bogged in a quagmire that lay
about two miles off their inn, and when at length they scrambled out
had to ride many miles round to escape the swamp. So it happened that
it was already well on in the afternoon when they came to that stretch
of forest in which the Abbot had murdered Sir John Foterell. Following
the woodland road, towards sunset they passed the mere where he had
fallen. Weary as she was, Cicely looked at the spot and found it
familiar.
"I know this place," she said. "Where have I seen it? Oh, in the ill
dream I had on that day I lost my father."
"That is not wonderful," answered Emlyn, who rode beside her carrying
the child, "seeing that Thomas says it was just here they butchered
him. Look, yonder lie the bones of Meg, his mare; I know them by her
black mane."
"Aye, Lady," broke in Bolle, "and there he lies also where he fell;
they buried him with never a Christian prayer," and he pointed to a
little careless mound between two willows."
"Jesus, have mercy on his soul!" said Cicely, crossing herself. "Now,
if I live, I swear that I will move his bones to the chancel of
Blossholme church and build a fair monument to his memory."
This, as all visitors to the place know, she did, for that monument
remains to this day, representing the old knight lying in the snow,
with the arrow in his throat, between the two murderers whom he slew,
while round the corner of the tomb Jeffrey Stokes gallops away.
While Cicely stared back at this desolate grave, muttering a prayer
for the departed, Thomas Bolle heard something which caused him to
prick his ears.
"What is it?" asked Jacob Smith, who saw the change in his face.
"Horses galloping--many horses, master," he answered; "yes, and riders
on them. Listen."
They did so, and now they also heard the thud of horse's hoofs and the
shouts of men.
"Quick, quick," said Bolle, "follow me. I know where we may hide," and
he led them off to a dense thicket of thorn and beech scrub which grew
about two hundred yards away under a group of oaks at a place where
four tracks crossed. Owing to the beech leaves, which, when the trees
are young, as every gardener knows, cling to the twigs through autumn
and winter, this place was very close, and hid them completely.
Scarcely had they taken up their stand there, when, in the red light
of the sunset, they saw a strange sight. Along, not that road they had
followed, but another, which led round the farther side of King's
Grave Mount, now seen and now hidden by the forest trees, a tall man
in armour mounted on a grey horse, accompanied by another man in a
leathern jerkin mounted on a black horse, galloped towards them,
whilst, at a distance of not more than a hundred yards behind them,
appeared a motley mob of pursuers.
"Escaped prisoners being run down," muttered Bolle, but Cicely took no
heed. There was something about the appearance of the rider of the
grey horse that seemed to draw her heart out of her.
She leaned forward on her beast's neck, staring with all her eyes. Now
the two men were almost opposite the thicket, and the man in mail
turned his face to his companion and called cheerily--
"We gain! We'll slip them yet, Jeffrey."
Cicely saw the face.
"Christopher!" she cried; "/Christopher!/"
Another moment and they had swept past, but Christopher--for it was he
--had caught the sound of that remembered voice. With eyes made quick
by love and fear she saw him pulling on his rein. She heard him shout
to Jeffrey, and Jeffrey shout back to him in tones of remonstrance.
They halted confusedly in the open space beyond. He tried to turn,
then perceived his pursuers drawing nearer, and, when they were
already at his heels, with an exclamation, pulled round again to
gallop away. Too late! Up the slope they sped for another hundred
yards or so. Now they were surrounded, and now, at the crest of it,
they fought, for swords flashed in the red light. The pursuers closed
in on them like hounds on an outrun fox. They went down--they
vanished.
Cicely strove to gallop after them, for she was crazed, but the others
held her back.
At length there was silence, and Thomas Bolle, dismounting, crept out
to look. Ten minutes later he returned.
"All have gone," he said.
"Oh! he is dead!" wailed Cicely. "This fatal place has robbed me of
father and of husband."
"I think not," answered Bolle. "I see no bloodstains, nor any signs of
a man being carried. He went living on his horse. Still, would to
Heaven that women could learn when to keep silent!"
