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diff --git a/49344.txt b/49344.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1912dc9..0000000 --- a/49344.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8187 +0,0 @@ - THE QUEEN'S FAVOURITE - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Queen's Favourite - A Story of the Restoration -Author: Eliza F. Pollard -Release Date: July 11, 2015 [EBook #49344] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S FAVOURITE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - - - *[Frontispiece: "THEY TOOK REFUGE WITH NURSE PATIENCE" - (missing from book)]* - - - - - *The Queen's Favourite* - - A Story of the Restoration - - - BY - - ELIZA F. POLLARD - - Author of "The Doctor's Niece" "The Lady Isobel" - "The White Standard" &c. - - - - _ILLUSTRATED BY FRANCES EWAN_ - - - - BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED - LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY - 1907 - - - - - *CONTENTS* - -CHAP. - - I. "The King has come in to his own again" - II. Newbolt Manor - III. Somerset House - IV. New Friends - V. May-Day - VI. A First Parting - VII. A King's Vengeance - VIII. Arrested - IX. Old Newgate - X. A Legend - XI. A Brave Woman - XII. A Faithful Friend - XIII. The Hamlet of St. Mary's - XIV. The Mystery cleared up - XV. At Court - XVI. Under the Shadow of Newgate - XVII. The Great Plague - XVIII. Lost - XIX. On the Track - XX. A Great Sea-Fight - XXI. London on Fire - XXII. Found - XXIII. Home at Last - - - - - *ILLUSTRATIONS* - - -"They took refuge with Nurse Patience" (missing from book) _Frontis._ - -"The commander of the company handed him a sheet of parchment" - -"He drew out the packets" - -"I will give you your answer to-night," she said - - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *"The king has come in to his own again"* - - -In a large, sombre apartment, in the palace of the Louvre, there was -unusual commotion. The Queen Dowager, Henrietta Maria, was seated in a -crimson gilt fauteuil, wearing her widow's black robes, for she had -never cast off the mourning she had donned for her murdered husband, -Charles I; and indeed she had unwillingly suffered any of her attendants -to array themselves in brighter colours. - -"Until he is avenged," she would say; "until his murderers have suffered -what he suffered, if that be possible!" - -Behind her, leaning on the back of her chair, was her young daughter, a -girl of sixteen--that child who had never seen her father's face, who -had been brought over to France by stealth in swaddling clothes, who had -suffered all the miseries of exile, and shared all the poverty which her -mother's position had forced upon them. - -Everybody knows the story of how the queen kept this child in bed in -winter, because they could afford no fire in their room. Possibly she -did this to shame the king, Louis XIV, who denied the necessaries of -existence to the daughter of Henry IV. - -The princess was at the present time just passing from girlhood into -womanhood. She gave promise of great beauty, which was to be fully -realized. There was a triumphant look on her face; indeed, on the faces -of all those present, for kneeling at the queen's feet was a messenger -who had just arrived from Holland bearing the news that a deputation -from England had waited on her son, Charles II, and had invited him back -to England, entreating him to suffer himself to be placed upon that -throne which had cost his father his life. - -After the envoy had delivered his message, a great silence fell upon all -present. The queen, for a few seconds, seemed incapable of realizing -the truth. It is at this moment we introduce our readers to her court. - -Suddenly a little voice broke the silence, and a childish figure, a girl -of ten or eleven years old, sprang forward, and holding out with both -her little hands a somewhat shabby white satin gown, she pirouetted into -the centre of the room, and, dancing on the tips of her toes, sang -gaily: "The king has come in to his own again; the king has come in to -his own!" - -The ice was broken: a general movement took place. A young woman in a -tight-fitting black gown and a white cap sprang after the child and -passionately shook her. - -"How dare you; how dare you!" she exclaimed; but the child twisted -herself free of her, and ran lightly to the Princess Henrietta, hiding -herself in the folds of her gown. - -"Let her alone," said the queen, "she has spoken for us all." And a -smile such as had not been seen on that royal face for many a day crept -over the widowed queen's countenance. Regaining her self-command, she -said to the messenger still kneeling before her: - -"I thank you for the haste you have made in coming to us, and I bid you -return with equal haste to my dear son, and tell his majesty that all -loyal hearts rejoice with him, and that we await but his command to join -him in England. Until then we will abide here as patient and loyal -subjects." - -The messenger arose, and bowed low, saying; - -"I have no doubt that the king will desire your majesty's presence as -soon as he has taken possession of his kingdom." And with that he bowed -himself backwards out of the room. - -With the disappearance of the messenger etiquette slackened; there was -much talking and not a little laughter. Suddenly the door leading into -the anteroom was thrown open, and all the elite of the court of France, -all those faithful followers of the Stuart cause who had escaped out of -Cromwell's hands and taken up their abode at the French court, young and -old, gay sparks of the aristocracy, and grey-headed men and women who -had lost lands and fortunes in their master's cause, pressed forward. -Their day had come at last; surely they would now reap the fruit of -their devotion. - -The queen rose and went into their midst with all that stately courtesy -for which she was remarkable, and her young daughter, following her -example, gave her hand to be kissed, smiling with that wonderful charm -and look of gladness which was destined to fascinate so many hearts. - -Once more the doors were thrown wide open, but this time heralds -announced: - -"Le roi, le roi!" - -Queen Henrietta stood still, but, as the king entered, she advanced a -few steps to meet him, curtsying deeply. - -"Ma tante," he said, "I would have been the first to congratulate you, -but news flies so fast, you have already heard what I would gladly have -imparted to you myself." - -"You are very good, my nephew," answered the Queen, "but sorrow has -followed me for so long, that I can scarcely allow myself to hope that -my dear son will succeed his martyred father in peace and without -bloodshed." - -"What matters that to you, ma tante? If blood has to be shed in a good -cause, there is no regretting it; and there are those here present," he -added, turning round and facing the courtiers, "who will not hesitate to -give their lives for their rightful king." - -A murmur ran through the crowd, and the whole assemblage bowed low in -acquiescence. One voice rose above the others: - -"His majesty speaks like Solomon; we are ready to shed the last drop of -our blood for our royal master. Long live King Charles!" - -People said that Queen Henrietta Maria had grown hard in her trouble. -At the present moment the softening element of joy crept into her heart -and brought tears to her eyes. - -"Grand merci, grand merci to you all!" she repeated; and the king, -taking her hand, led her to her seat, himself occupying the fauteuil -which had been hastily brought for him. - -A whispered word to Henrietta, repeated by her to the gentlemen of her -household, and the crowd of courtiers disappeared, leaving the king and -his aunt alone. Even Princess Henrietta and her little companion were -dismissed. - -What took place between the royal aunt and nephew was only known some -years later; but the queen was well satisfied with the result of their -conversation, for the strings of the king's purse were opened, and the -poverty which so long oppressed her disappeared. - -The princess and the child Agnes felt this change more than anyone. -There was a mystery concerning Agnes; but mysteries about personages -were very common in those days. In this great Civil War children had -been lost, families had disappeared, no one quite knew who might be who. - -When people questioned as to who this child was, the queen answered -haughtily: - -"Her name is Agnes Beaumont. Who she is and whence she comes I know; -that is my secret, and must suffice all men." - -It was on a cold winter's night nigh upon twenty years ago, and snow lay -thick upon the ground, when Patience had found her way to the Palace of -the Louvre, and begged and prayed, and almost forced herself into Queen -Henrietta's presence. It was in the early days of the queen's -widowhood. She had pawned all her jewels; she had sent all her money to -the assistance of her son; and she herself was living a beggar on the -bounty of the King of France, and that was measured out stingily. -Poverty was in the air; the great rooms assigned to her in the Palace of -the Louvre were bare and cold; and when Patience succeeded in forcing -her way into her presence, she found the queen cowering over a few -embers in the great fireplace, with the young princess, then only a -child of eight years, gathered in her arms for warmth. - -Approaching the queen, Patience knelt before her. - -"Do you not recognize me, your majesty?" she said. - -The queen looked at her. - -"Yes, I recognize you," she said; "you come from my friend," and in a -low voice she mentioned a name, adding: - -"What of her?" - -"Dead," answered Patience, "even as her husband died after the great -battle, and with her dying breath she bade me bring you this." And -opening back her cloak she showed, lying in her arms, a sleeping child -of some eighteen months old. - -"Why did you bring her here?" said the queen, throwing up her hands in -despair. "What am I to do with her? We have scarce food for ourselves. -How shall I feed her?" - -"Have no fear on that score," said Patience, "I will feed her. Only let -her live under your shelter, protected by your name; for there are those -who, if they found her, would cast her out or do her some evil turn. -You know that well. They have entered upon her possessions--they hold -what by right is hers; therefore she must be cared for until such time -as she can claim her own, or till you can give it to her." - -"Then I wot she will wait a weary while," said the queen. - -Whilst they were speaking, Princess Henrietta had approached the child, -whose eyes were now wide open, and who was struggling to rise. - -"Oh, how pretty she is! Look, Mother!" - -And she said truly. She was a lovely babe, with soft, golden curls -clustering round her little face, and large brown eyes. She was -laughing, too--laughing with the merry gurgle of a happy -babe--stretching out her little hands towards the princess. She looked -the very child of joy, and yet she was a child born of bitter sorrow. - -"She is like her father," said the queen. "I never knew a man more -gloriously happy than he was; and she has the same look in her eyes." - -"She never weeps; she never moans," said Patience. "Ah, madame, she will -bring you sunshine and good luck!" - -As she spoke she unwrapped the child and placed her upon the ground. A -beauty, a perfect beauty she was, and the princess clapped her hands. - -"Oh, you must keep her, Mother, you must keep her!" - -"I have no choice in the matter. She is my dearest friend's child. -Yes, I must keep her, Patience." And from that hour Agnes was the -Princess Henrietta's daily companion. - -This princess had also been born in sorrow and nurtured in it. She had -no playfellows. She had led the dreariest life that any child could -lead until this baby came; but from that hour her whole nature changed. -She laughed, she played, she danced with her; there was noise, there was -life, in that dark apartment. Whatever ills others had to bear, Agnes -never suffered. Patience was always there, and Patience sufficed for -her, and often for the princess too. They occupied a tiny chamber -leading out of the queen's room, and this was their haven of rest, their -playroom. - -Sometimes even the queen would come in there and sit down and talk to -Patience, not as to a subordinate, but as to a friend, and that is -saying a great deal for Queen Henrietta Maria, whose pride and arrogance -were proverbial. - -Everyone was sure Agnes was of noble birth, because, as she grew older, -she was brought up nobly and had the same teachers as the princess. They -were neither of them overweighted with study; it was not the fashion in -those days. They learnt French from their surroundings, a little -writing, a little reading, a smattering of Latin, because the queen was -bringing up her daughter as a Catholic, and she must needs follow the -Mass in her Breviary. This sufficed; but they learnt dancing, and little -songs, and thus a certain amount of gaiety emanated through them into -the dark Palace of the Louvre. - -This gaiety was in Princess Henrietta's blood. Was she not a -granddaughter of Henry IV, that great lover of pleasure? - -So these two children ignored the death-traps which lay under their -feet, those oubliettes which had swallowed up so many men and women. -They did not see the ghosts that others saw gliding along the passages, -which led to mysterious chambers, down narrow staircases, ending they -knew not where. They did not care. They would escape from Patience and -play their games of hide-and-seek and touch-wood, their cries of -childish joy ringing through the corridors and starting the echoes. Men -would smile at them, and women shake their heads, but no one bade them -be silent. Sometimes even the king in the distance heard them and would -smile. "That is the wild Henrietta and her companion," he would say. - -"Shall they be silenced, sire?" asked a courtier once. - -"Nay, nay; it is good for them to laugh," he answered. "Their weeping -days will come. It were a sin to silence them." - -On this day, when the princess and Agnes were sent forth from the king's -presence, they took refuge with Patience, and, curling themselves up on -the window-sill, began to talk. - -"I wonder if we shall have as good a time in England as we have had -here!" said Agnes. "I feel as if I were going to lose you, Princess. -You will be a great lady at court, and I am only a child and nobody. I -wonder what this England is like! I have heard that the sun shines but -little there. I do not feel much love for it or for the people. I -never can forget that they killed their king, your father." - -"If I cannot forget, I shall have to make believe I can," said -Henrietta; "but as to what England is like, I know no more than you do," -she added. "I was brought over from England just as you were, an infant -in swaddling clothes, by my dear Lady Dalkeith, so we are equal there." - -"Except that you know who you are, but I am only Agnes Beaumont, with -neither father nor mother, nor kith nor kin, no one save Patience to -care for me." - -"We care for you, my mother and I," said the princess, drawing the child -closer to her. "What more do you want?" - -"Never to leave you," said the child passionately. "I would be your -handmaid, your servant." And, as if a sudden fear had taken hold on -her, she clung to the princess. - -"You foolish child," answered Henrietta. "Of course you will always -stay by me. Where should I be without my little Agnes?" - -"But kings and queens, I have heard, cannot do what they will; they -cannot even love where they will," said the child. - -"That is true," answered Henrietta, "but you are only a child. Who will -mind you? Besides," she continued thoughtfully, "you are Agnes Beaumont -to-day, but you may be a great lady in disguise. Courtiers will crowd -round my brother's throne; those who have been against him will be for -him, now he is king, and you, the queen's favourite, my favourite, may -find both kith and kin in your prosperity." - -"I shall not care for those who forsook me when I was cast alone on the -world." And Agnes tossed her beautiful head proudly. - -"Why trouble?" said Henrietta. "Let us take life as it comes; we are so -young. We are going to have a good time--a right good time!" And she -wiped the tears from the child's face, kissed and hugged her. - -At that moment the door opened and the queen came in. Her face, too, -was radiant, and she brought with her a ray of sunshine, as if Nature -itself shone upon her. She sat down beside the two girls and laid a -hand on each of them. - -"We shall soon be going to England," she said. - -"Oh, Mother, tell us about England," said Henrietta. "We know nothing -about it." - -The queen's eyes filled with tears. "For ten years," she said, "I was -the happiest and best-beloved woman in England. There was no man like -your father, Henrietta: the greatest lover and the best husband. He -gave me for my dower-house a palace on the Thames, upon which the sun -always shone, from west and east, north and south, beneath whose windows -the whole world passed, barges with pennons flying and with music -playing all the live-long day, and oft far into the night. Ah, it was a -glorious time! Who would have thought of the misery to come!" She put -her kerchief to her eyes and wept audibly. - -"It is over, Mother, it is over," said Henrietta, kneeling beside her. - -"It can never be over," answered the queen. "Those joy days are ever -present with me, not even when your brother has avenged your father's -death upon his murderers shall I forget. My sun is dimmed for ever." -And a look of hatred came over her face. "We will not talk of it," she -continued, shrugging her shoulders in her quick French way. "You want -to know about this England, children? Well, we shall go back to -Somerset House. It is my own, given to me by my husband, and there we -shall dwell. It is a beautiful place, full--as I have told you--of -sunlight; very different from this gloomy Louvre." - -"But we have been very happy here," said Agnes. "I fear our play-days -are over." - -The queen smiled and stroked the child's face. "You are growing a big -girl, Agnes; we must think of something better for you than play, ma -mie." - -Patience coming in broke this strain of talk. She and the queen went to -the farther end of the room together in consultation. - -Indeed, for the next few months there was much planning and much -talking. It was the month of May when King Charles went to England, and -England became old England again in its festive gaiety. From the moment -Charles set foot on English soil at Dover with his brothers the Dukes of -York and Gloucester, and was met by General Monk and courtiers, who -knelt to welcome him, England went mad concerning him. On the -twenty-ninth of May, which was his birthday, he made his solemn entry -into London. We are told the streets were railed, and windows and -balconies were hung with tapestries, flowers were scattered in his path, -and all was joy and jubilee. So he entered triumphantly that Whitehall -where the king, his father, had suffered so cruelly. It was a strange -metamorphosis. Those who had been the father's bitterest enemies now -bowed before the son. They called him the "King of Hearts". From his -people he would receive a "crown of hearts", they said; "the duty of all -men would be to make him forget the past; he was to be the most glorious -king of the happiest people. Such was his welcome!" - -All this was reported to his mother, still living at the Louvre, waiting -for her summons to go home, and the whole of that summer passed in joy -and laughter. Princess Henrietta was courted by foreign potentates and -even by kings, but the queen would not part with her. - -"She has shared my troubles, she must share my joys; she must go home -with me," she said. - -In the autumn the queen set sail with her suite for England, and after -what seemed to Agnes a weary journey by sea and land, they reached -London, and were conducted through the city to Somerset House, the -"Queen's House" as it was called. - -Agnes kept close to the princess. Nothing Patience said to her was of -any avail; she was determined; she set her lips and pushed her away. - -"I will not leave the princess," she said, clinging to her gown. - -"Let her alone," said Princess Henrietta; "she is my charge, Patience." -So she kept her in her room, and they slept together that first night; -yet, strange to tell, they knew not why, both fell asleep weeping. - -"It is a bad omen," said Patience; "evil will come of it;" and she -looked down sadly upon those two young faces wet with tears. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *Newbolt Manor* - - -"Well, Ann, all I can say is, that, though I hate turn-coats, I am -thankful my father has ranged himself on the right side at last. Others -are doing like him. We know full well that one of Cromwell's own -daughters was against him. Fairfax and Falkland, those great and noble -men, both fought for the liberties of England against their king. -General Monk, who is bringing Charles home, was a republican; but times -have changed. It needed a strong hand like Cromwell's to govern England -without hereditary right, only with might. Richard Cromwell, good fellow -though he be, could not do it, and he knew it from the first. He has -had enough of ruling, he told me so but the other day; he is only too -thankful to retire into private life, farm his own land, and smoke his -pipe in peace. So we need not feel any compunction over the fact that -our father has given in his adhesion to the king at last, and now I -shall be at liberty to follow the dictates of my heart. I was too young -to fight for our martyred king, but I am of age now, and will at once -enlist in his son's service. Let us hope we may have our rightful king -and our rightful liberties as well. I'm for King Charles! Hurrah!" -And Reginald Newbolt took up his hat from the table beside him and -tossed it gaily into the air. - -His sister, Ann Newbolt, laughed at him as she echoed his "Hurrah!" - -"I am glad of it," she went on; "you cannot conceive how glad, Reginald! -You can never know what pain and grief the murder of our king has been -to me. I think my father felt it sorely, and yet he has always held -that it was a necessity." - -"He had no hand in it," cried Reginald sharply. - -"Not directly," answered Ann. "I believe he would not vote either for -or against, which vexed our mother greatly." - -"It was a mistake," said Reginald, his young face lighting up with a -certain sternness. "A man ought to know his own mind: it should be -either 'yea' or 'nay'. My father would have had me enlist in Cromwell's -army, young as I was; but I would not, and, thank God, I did not! I can -show clean hands and a loyal heart to Charles Stuart when he lands." - -"Will you go up to London with my father?" she said. - -"No," he answered, in the same stern voice. "I shall go alone, and lay -my virgin sword at my king's feet." - -His sister looked at him with intense love and pride. They were the -only children of Colonel Newbolt, who had served the Republican cause -throughout the Civil Wars so well that Cromwell had rewarded him with -gifts of land and property which had belonged to old Royalist families, -who had either disappeared in the struggle or been dispossessed. The -most important of these was the Abbey de Lisle, a lovely estate in -Westmorland, amidst the moors and fells, just bordering upon Yorkshire. -The house had been an old monastery of great fame. Its chapel had been -one of exquisite beauty a hundred years before, but under Thomas -Cromwell's ruthless hand, in the reign of Henry VIII, when monasteries -and abbeys were sacked, it had been reduced to ruins, and so remained, -unroofed, with the grass growing up the nave and through the aisles. -Ivy clambered round the delicate pillars, and moss lay thick on the -steps leading up to the broken altar. - -It had been bestowed by Henry on the De Lisles, and with it, as was -believed by many, a curse had been inherited, uttered by the last monk -who passed out of the monastery grates. It ran thus: "The abbey and its -lands shall go from the De Lisles, even as it came to them, by fire and -sword". - -Now the prophecy had been fulfilled. Gilbert de Lisle, the last of his -race, had fallen fighting for King Charles in the Battle of Worcester. -He left no children--the race was extinct. - -So Cromwell had bestowed the land and all that appertained thereto, the -dower-house and the abbey itself, upon Colonel Newbolt, to be his and -his heirs' after him. Thither he had brought his wife and children, had -spent a considerable sum of money in restoring the house, which had been -injured during the war; but the chapel remained a ruin--even that was a -concession--and many blamed him for not razing it to the ground. -Cromwell's soldiers had finished Henry VIII's vandalism, mutilated the -few remaining statues, and broken to pieces the stained-glass window -over the altar. - -In the country around it was whispered that at midnight there were -shadows seen coming and going, ghosts of the dead monks, whose tombs had -been desecrated, but whose bodies still rested in the crypt below the -altar, awaiting the great judgment day. - -Reginald and Ann Newbolt had been little more than children when they -came to the Abbey, and the very atmosphere of the place seemed to seize -upon their imaginations. They felt kindly towards the dead monks and -towards the De Lisles, whose portraits hung in the long gallery which -ran the length of the quadrangle. They became, to their father's -horror, Royalists. Reginald at fifteen refused to join the -Parliamentary forces, though his father could have obtained for him a -first-rate appointment. Had he been older, he would have gone straight -over to the other side; but the final defeat of the king and his death -prevented him from taking that step. - -A year or two before our story opens the young man had gone abroad, had -visited King Charles in Holland, and sworn allegiance to him. This was -unknown to his father, and upon his return he had contented himself with -following the natural course of events, fully persuaded in his own mind -that when Cromwell should cease to rule England, the English nation -would recall their rightful monarch. - -His was not an isolated case. There were many young men--ay, old men -too--in England in whom Charles's death killed republicanism and awoke -once more the smouldering embers of loyalty. - -As for Ann, she had not hidden her feelings any more than Lady Fairfax -had done; she worshipped the martyred king. Their mother was a Puritan, -of an old Puritan family, and the defection of her children was a source -of infinite trouble to her. She ruled her house with Puritanical -strictness. Morning and evening the whole family assembled for the -reading of the Bible and for prayers. She herself dressed in the -plainest attire, without furbelows or jewels of any kind. Her maids and -the men who served in the house were clothed after the same fashion. -Ann at one time sought to array herself something after the mode of the -French court, with laces and ribbons, and with her hair curled; but her -mother would not have it, and more than once she was sent to her chamber -to dress herself decently; and so wisely Ann yielded to her mother, and -wore the plain muslins and sober colours which marked a Puritan girl. - -With her son Mistress Newbolt never discussed matters, for she knew that -he would not yield to her one inch. He had told her once and for all, -when he was quite a lad, that he was a king's man, and that he would -never draw his sword in any other cause. He was her own son, as -steadfast as she was, in holding fast by what he considered to be right. -At the present moment she was deeply grieved at her husband's action in -furthering the accession of Charles II. - -It was of no use for Colonel Newbolt to reason with his wife, to show -her that the kingdom could not be governed by such men as Richard -Cromwell, and who else was there to govern it? The nation at large -called for their sovereign, for their old race of kings; and he, Colonel -Newbolt, hoped and believed that the new king had learnt wisdom in -exile, and would govern with equity and justice. He said as much to his -wife, but Mistress Newbolt laughed scoffingly. "Did you ever know a -Stuart govern wisely?" she asked. "That man, Charles Stuart, will -surely bring his mother back again and lodge her in Somerset House with -her French people and her priests, where so lately the Lord Protector -hath lain in state. Ay, the tide has turned, and you with it; but as -for me, I stand by the good cause, as befits the daughter of one who -fell at Dunbar." - -So there was a sharp division in the house. Mistress Newbolt spoke -little, but they sometimes heard her singing slowly and fervently in her -own room to the old tune sung before the victory at Dunbar: - - "O Lord our God, arise and let - Thine en'mies scattered be; - And let all them that do Thee hate - Before Thy presence flee". - - -Hearing her one day as they stood together at the window in the picture -gallery, Ann said to her brother: - -"If only she does not persuade our father to change his mind again!" - -"She will not do that; my father's mind is fixed for once," answered -Reginald. "He said only the other day, 'The great Lord Protector is -dead; there is none to take his place; we can but trust the future to -God. It were foolish for me to set my face against the new order of -things. I should neither make nor mend, and I should probably lose all -I have gained--my lands and my money'." - -Ann bent her head. "Yes, that holds him," she said. "He loves this -place; he would not part with it on any consideration." - -"But suppose the rightful heir should turn up?" said Reginald. - -"There is no rightful heir," answered Ann; "the last man died at -Worcester, childless." - -"Was he married?" asked Reginald. - -"Oh, yes!" said Ann; "there is an old woman down the village who knew -him, and saw his young bride when he brought her home to this very -house, a lovely girl, she said, too tender to weather the storms of -these rough times; so when her husband died, she, broken-hearted, died -also." - -"And we have stepped into their place," said Reginald; "at least, there -is no one to reproach us with it. No one seems to have any claim except -perhaps some distant cousins of the late De Lisles I once heard of." - -"Have you ever tried to find out aught concerning these De Lisles?" -asked Ann. - -"Yes I have," answered Reginald, "for I have always had a sort of -feeling against ousting people out of their rights." - -"Ah, well! it would make no difference," said Ann, "for my father told -me that the deeds which gave us this estate were well and securely made -out to him and to his heirs for ever." - -"For ever!" repeated Reginald, with a light laugh; "as if there could be -a for ever in this world." And he turned on his heel and went his way -across the quadrangle beneath the great porch, where Ann lost sight of -him. - -"If he did find a lost heir," said Ann, "he is capable of throwing up -his inheritance, at least if he were the master, which he is not." - -As Reginald swung down the broad avenue of lime-trees, he saw his father -coming towards him. It vexed him, for they had but little in common. - -Colonel Newbolt was a man who had risen from the people. He had -displayed considerable military talents, which Cromwell had been quick -to recognize and to make use of; so he had pushed John Newbolt, stirring -up his ambition and throwing titbits to him as one does to a hungry dog, -and Newbolt had responded. He was not a man likely to go back, or to -suffer himself to be defrauded of what he had gained honestly, as he -considered, therefore he now persuaded himself that the change in his -political opinions was both desirable and lawful. His position had -been, according to his lights, honestly won, both in the field and in -Parliament, where he had taken his seat. It was but natural that he -should desire to retain his place and wealth, and hand them down to his -son. - -He was glad that circumstances had enabled him to join hands with -Reginald, and, as is often the case, his new loyalty was somewhat -exaggerated, almost to bravado. - -"Well, Reggie, will you be ready to ride to-morrow?" he asked -boisterously, as he came up towards him. - -"Where to?" asked the youth. - -"Why, to London, of course, man! We must not be laggards. I would not -miss the king's entrance into the city for a hundred pounds." - -"I had not thought of going so soon," said Reginald; "but if you desire -it, I will accompany you." - -"I do desire it," said his father; "we will go together." - -"As far as London," said Reginald; "but as for presenting myself with -you before the king, I cannot do that; I have no place at court." - -"Tush, tush, man!" said his father, "we will soon find you one." - -"Thanks! but I am in no hurry," said Reginald; "nevertheless I will ride -with you. I should like to see the pageant, and shout 'Long live the -king!'" - -A cloud had gathered on the colonel's brow. He perceived only too -clearly that his son was unwilling to appear at court under his -auspices, and he did not dare to press the matter, because, though -Reginald was always respectful and in a general way obedient, the father -was afraid of him. He knew it was a case of "so far and no farther". - -"When are you thinking of starting?" asked Reginald. - -"Not later than to-morrow early," said the colonel, "so see you are -ready. You had better take two men for your own service, and I will -take two for myself. Look to their clothes, their horses' harness, and -their appointments altogether. I would not be behind my fellows." - -"Am I to go as a Cavalier or as a Roundhead?" said his son. - -"Roundhead!" answered his father furiously. "Who talks of Roundheads? -Are we not all Cavaliers? Why, if you play your cards well, you may yet -be Sir Reginald Newbolt." - -"Nay," said Reginald, "there are many better men than we are, Father, -who have won knighthood fighting for the king; they must come first, we -after, if at all." - -"Nonsense!" said his father; "if our new king picks and chooses like -that, he will make a great mistake. Why, who are bringing him back? -Not Royalists, but Cromwell's men. Let him remember that!" - -Reginald shrugged his shoulders. "At least I should not put myself to -the fore, if I were you, Father." - -"You are a fool, Reginald. If I hold back I shall seem half-hearted, -and that would never do. I shall ride and meet the king on his way to -London, and join his escort. Will you come with me or not?" - -"As far as London we will ride together," said Reginald, "but then we -will part company. You are an old soldier; I am not yet sworn in." - -His father looked at him askance. "Do you doubt me, Reginald?" - -"Not for one moment," answered his son; "but in this matter I desire to -stand alone. We can never tell, Father; I have a clean record, which -may be of use to you." - -The colonel laughed. "I don't think I run much danger. Why, there is -scarce a man who is welcoming Charles to London who has not fought with -the Parliamentarians. He would have to take a scythe if he were to -sweep off the heads of all those who have fought against him. And there -is the Treaty of Breda to protect us." - -"You forget the clause," said Reginald. - -"Tut, tut!" answered the colonel. "De Vere and a few others will be -arrested; the rest will get off." - -"Possibly," said Reginald, "but I doubt it." - -At that moment the supper-bell rang out from the belfry, and father and -son went together into the great hall, which had been the refectory of -the monks. It was a beautiful place, with carved oak panelling and -fretted roof; but Ann noticed as she sat beside her father that he was -somewhat querulous that night, and drank deeper than was his wont. - -"Has anything happened?" she asked Reginald after supper, looking at her -father. - -"Nothing that I am aware of," answered Reginald. "Good-night, little -one!" And so they parted. - -Father and son rode forth together the following morning on their way to -London. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *Somerset House* - - -Somerset House, the English home in which Agnes now found herself, was -very different from the magnificent but sombre Louvre she had left. - -It stood almost in the centre of a great bend of the Thames, so that -from its fine terrace could be seen, on one side the city of London, -with its countless spires and its old bridge, on the other the king's -palace and gardens of Whitehall and the great Abbey of Westminster. - -Built by the Protector Somerset, it had been greatly improved for Queen -Henrietta Maria, who had furnished it with consummate taste. - -On its charming south front, looking out over the river, in full -sunshine, were the queen's principal apartments: her presence-chamber, -private sitting-room, and her bed-chamber, all protected by the -guard-room. Her windows looked down on wide, trim lawns, in the centre -of which was a basin and fountain, while beyond was a broad terraced -walk, the walls of which were at each high tide washed by the Thames. - -A handsome flight of steps led down to the river, where the queen's -barge was moored. The Thames was a high-road full of life and movement, -for every nobleman kept a splendid barge, rowed by many men in fine -liveries. - -Beyond the queen's apartment were the smaller rooms occupied by the -Princess Henrietta and Agnes Beaumont, who, though she was but twelve -years old, was raised to the dignity of maid of honour to the princess, -thus establishing her right to be always beside her in private and in -public. Agnes was tall for her age and slim; the golden curls of her -childhood had darkened to a rich auburn; her features were delicate but -very marked; her complexion fair, with a soft pink colouring which -suited well with the brown eyes and dark, long lashes. She had been a -beautiful babe, and now she was a fair girl, little more than a child -still, but giving great promise of a beautiful womanhood. - -Young as she was, there was a stateliness in her carriage which -betokened high birth. More than once the queen laughed with Patience: - -"We cannot hide her dignity if we would," she said; "she carries her -head too high for common folk." - -Patience smiled. "Well, well," she said, "her father did the same. The -proverb says, 'Pride will have a fall'. Thank God she cannot fall much -lower than she has!" - -"Nay," answered the queen, "we will make of her a duchess. My son the -king noticed her the other day and remarked upon her beauty, and he is -no mean judge," she added with a light laugh. - -But Patience flushed crimson. "I would sooner his majesty did not cast -his eyes on her," she said in a low voice. - -"Pshaw!" answered the queen, "she is but a child." - -"A child who will be a woman before we know it," said Patience. "His -majesty's court is too gay for such young fledgelings." - -"Well spoken, Patience!" said a man's voice behind the queen. "Why, -methinks my lord Cromwell's spirit still dwells amongst us in our own -house. You will be a Puritan yet, Patience." - -Patience made no answer, but bowed and went out. - -Then the speaker, Lord Jermyn, took the queen's hand, kissed it, led her -to a chair, and at a sign from her sat down beside her. - -"Patience is right," he said. "I would keep those children away from -Whitehall as much as possible. The king has had but a dull time of it in -exile; he is making up for it now." - -Henrietta shrugged her shoulders. "My nephew's court in Paris is no -better," she said, "and there Henrietta, when she is Duchess of Orleans, -will have to live, and probably Agnes will go with her." - -"Time enough for that," answered Lord Jermyn. "Do not brush the bloom -off the flowers sooner than need be. They are the prettiest couple at -court, those two, in their young freshness. Have you spoken to the king -concerning Agnes?" - -"No, there's time enough," answered the queen. "It were difficult for -the king to act at present. The estates have passed out of his hands, -and he would raise a hornet's nest if he attempted to take them from -their present owner." - -"I think you are wrong," said Lord Jermyn; "the sooner such things are -done the better. If his majesty cannot restore to her her rightful -heritage, then he must create a new one for her." - -"That is probably what he will do," said the queen. "These are early -days, and his hands are full. His first duty is to do what he is doing, -punish the murderers of his father." - -"Ah, well! he is doing that without mercy," said Lord Jermyn, and there -was a certain bitterness in his tone. - -"Do you regret it?" asked Henrietta, looking up at him. - -"I suppose it has to be," he answered. "But such men as Harrison and -Carew are being raised to the dignity of martyrs; they die like men for -the cause they believe in. There, we will not speak of it. I wish it -were all over." - -"I agree with you, my lord," said the young Duke of Gloucester, who had -just come in. "I wish it were all over, this judging and this killing. -I cannot pass in the streets but I see the scaffolds, and men dying -thereon with such firmness and show of piety, with a semblance of joy in -their sufferings." And the young Duke covered his face with his hands. -"Mother, cannot you stop it?" he asked. - -"Stop the avenging of your father's death! Nay, Henry, that I cannot -do." - -"Then, Mother, pray the king not to have the scaffold so near us as -Charing Cross, or else I will go hence and never visit you. My Lord -Jermyn, plead for me." And the prince hastily left the room, and, going -along the gallery, knocked at the door of his sister's apartment. - -It was Agnes who opened to him. She was startled at the pallor of his -face. - -"Is your royal highness ill?" she asked. - -"No, Agnes, but I am sick at heart and I am sorely puzzled." - -"Come in," said she, "and tell us what ails you." - -The young duke entered, threw himself into an arm-chair by the hearth, -covering his face with his hands. The Princess Henrietta came and knelt -beside him. - -"Tell me what ails you, Henry?" she asked. - -"I would go hence, Henrietta, to that kingdom where my father wears an -immortal crown; these earthly baubles are not worth the lives they cost. -It is all so puzzling. What is truth? My Father died for it because he -believed in his cause. These regicides who voted his death are as sure -as he was that they are in the right. I was in the crowd to-day when a -man was being dragged upon a hurdle to his shameful death. His face was -placid and even cheerful. A low wretch called out to him, 'Where is -your good old cause now?' and he answered with a smile, clapping his -hand upon his heart, 'Here it is, and I am going to seal it with my -blood.' And as he went on his way I heard him call out, 'I go to suffer -for the most glorious cause that ever was in the world.'" As if -maddened by the sight he had seen, the young duke rose, saying, "It is -all wrong! It is all wrong! There is no right; I wish I were out of -it!" - -They soothed and calmed him, and he remained all the afternoon in the -princess's apartment; but Patience did not like the look of him. - -"He is sickening for something," she said. - -Later, when he tried to stand he could not, his head was dizzy; so they -carried him to his chamber and they sent for the leech. Perceiving he -had high fever, they bled him, and said, "He will be well on the -morrow." - -Upon the morrow he was not well; indeed, the fever had gained upon him -and his mind wandered. His sister Henrietta would have gone to him, but -the leech would not permit it. - -"We cannot tell what he is sickening for," he said. - -A few days later the whole court was scared, for it was known that the -Duke of Gloucester had been attacked by that terrible disease small-pox, -which made as much havoc in high places as in low slums. That he had -been up to the very last with the young girls, caused both the queen and -Patience great anxiety. They were removed at once from Somerset House -and taken to Hampton Court, that they might breathe fresh country air, -and so rid themselves of infection. Matters went badly with the prince. -The disease assumed its most virulent form, and within a fortnight his -wish was granted; he had passed from earth to heaven. - -And so the court for a time was thrown into mourning, and Henrietta and -Agnes were not permitted to return until there should be no fear of any -further infection. When the first shock was over they enjoyed beyond -measure their country life; those beautiful gardens laid out by Cardinal -Wolsey afforded them never-ending pleasure. True, it was winter time; -but the ponds and lakes were frozen over, and after much pleading and -the taking of many precautions they were suffered to go upon the ice -under the care of some of the gentlemen of the court. Neither of them -knew how to skate. Henrietta was timid and would not even try to go -alone, holding on to her cavalier's hand, and sometimes hardly moving; -but Agnes grew impatient. - -"Look at that young man and the girl out yonder!" she said, pointing to -a couple who were skimming over the lake like birds. "It seems so -easy." - -As she uttered the words the couple approached and heard her. The young -man was handsome, with fair hair and blue eyes, and with a certain -nobility of face. The girl was like him; there was no mistaking they -were brother and sister. - -"You are right. It is quite easy," said the girl, as she caught Agnes's -last words. "Will you let us help you?" - -"Oh, I shall be so glad, so very glad!" answered Agnes. "It is cold and -stupid standing here and creeping about." And before Patience could -intervene, she had given one hand to the girl, the other to the young -man, and was off between them, slipping and sliding and laughing. But -they steadied her and told her how to use her feet, guiding her gently, -making it so easy for her that soon she began to feel at home, and with -her natural boldness ventured to say: - -"Now let me go, let me go alone!" - -"You can't," said the young man; "better not try to-day." - -"Oh, I must!" said Agnes, and so they let her go. - -One step, two steps, then she staggered; but they caught her before she -had time to fall. - -"You will soon learn; children always do," said the young man. - -"Child!" she cried; "I am not a child. I am over twelve years old, and -maid of honour to Princess Henrietta Maria. Who are you?" And she -threw up her head and looked him in the face. - -His blue eyes laughed quizzically: "I am Reginald Newbolt," he said, -"and this is my sister Ann. We are not grand people like you." - -"I am not grand at all; I am nobody," Agnes answered, colouring. "I -must go; Patience is signing to me, and Princess Henrietta is shivering -on the side of the lake. Will you come again to-morrow and help me? I -should like to be friends with you." - -"We shall be only too glad," answered Ann. "We will come every day as -long as the frost lasts. Now we will take you back to your people." - -They took her hands and made her skate in time with them. - -"To think I can go so well with you and not alone!" she said. "It is -annoying." - -"You need not fear," said Reginald. "In a few days you will go alone; -you have the knack of it." - -They reached the edge of the lake where the princess and Patience were -standing. - -"Oh, it is so cold!" exclaimed the princess, shivering; "and it is very -imprudent of you to go off like that, Agnes." - -"I am sorry to have vexed you," the girl answered; "but it was just -lovely. Will you not try, Princess? This is Mr. Reginald Newbolt and -his sister Ann." - -Doffing his cap, Reginald bowed to the princess and Ann curtsied. -Henrietta having recovered from her ill-temper, as she always did -quickly, had seen that to all outward appearance they were gentlefolk. -She gave them a stately bow, then repeated: - -"Now we must go home, Agnes; I am frozen." - -"I must take off my skates first," answered Agnes, and she sat down at -the edge of the lake while Patience undid the straps. Then she rose. - -The princess took Patience's arm and turned towards home. Agnes -followed with Mr. Delarry, who said: - -"You make friends easily, Mistress Agnes. Do you know who that young -man is?" - -"Did you not hear me tell the princess that he is Mr. Reginald Newbolt, -and that it is his sister who is with him?" she asked. - -"Well, they make a handsome couple," said Mr. Delarry. "Newbolt! Did -you say this man's name was Newbolt?" - -"Yes," said Agnes; "do you know them?" - -"I know him after a fashion," answered Mr. Delarry. "His father is, I -believe, Colonel Newbolt. He is, like many another, an old -Parliamentarian who, to feather his nest, turned king's man and welcomed -the king back. The young man is seeking a commission in the king's -guards and will probably get it, to the detriment of other and better -men." - -Agnes's face clouded over. "I am sorry his father was on the wrong -side," she said. - -"You need not trouble, or you will have to be sorry for many," said Mr. -Delarry; "but this young fellow is a new recruit, and never drew his -sword in the late war. They say he refused a commission in Cromwell's -army." - -"I am glad of that," said Agnes, her face brightening. "There will be -no harm in my skating with them to-morrow, will there, Mr. Delarry?" - -"None whatever, if Mistress Patience sees none. He is a handsome fellow, -Mistress Agnes, and will make a fine cavalier." - -"I like handsome men," she answered, with childish glee; "and his sister -too is pleasant, but she is prim." - -"I hear her mother is a strict Puritan," said Mr. Delarry, "and that the -colonel had much trouble in getting her to come up to London with his -son and daughter. She will not show herself at court, much to his -displeasure. Have a care, Mistress Agnes, or you will be turning -Puritan too!" - -"Oh, no!" Agnes answered, laughing. "I do not like them at all, at -least the few of them I have seen in the streets. Patience has pointed -them out to me; they are mostly dressed in black, with white ruffles and -high hats; they look very stern. The women have black cloaks and white -coifs. I like our own pretty clothes best, and our gay cavaliers with -their broad hats and sweeping plumes." - -Delarry smiled at her. "You are such a child, Miss Agnes, still. I -thought you were to be a grown woman when you came to England." - -"Oh, it is coming, coming very fast!" she said. "Good-bye, Mr. Delarry!" -And she left him, and ran forward to join the princess. - -"You talk to everybody," said Henrietta to her reproachfully. "I never -knew such a child. What have you been talking to Mr. Delarry about -now?" - -"Only about my new friends," answered Agnes. "Oh, you will be nice, -Henrietta, and skate with them to-morrow, won't you? They just fly over -the ice. It is the most delicious sensation I ever knew. They say in -two or three days I shall go alone, and then," she added mischievously, -"let who can catch me." - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *New Friends* - - -On the following day Henrietta was nothing loath to have good sport with -Agnes, and Patience was forced to yield to their desires. Down to the -lake they went, found the Newbolts there, and after a little persuasion -Henrietta ventured on the ice. They brought a chair for her, and she -was content at first to let Mr. Delarry push her; but Agnes gave her -hands to Ann and Reginald and went off. Presently she came back alone, -so sure of foot was she; her figure was so light and easy. - -"Do try," she said to Henrietta; "it is just lovely!" And the princess -let herself be persuaded. - -Other gentlemen and ladies joined them, and there was much laughter and -many tumbles, but no one was hurt. The time passed quickly, until the -winter day was drawing to a close, and still they were not tired. - -"I should never be tired," said Agnes, her face rosy with the keenness -of the air, and her eyes very bright. - -This went on for well-nigh a week. The court party they were called; -they were so happy. All the commoners made way for them as they went -hither and thither, gliding over the ice. Indeed, people came from afar -and stood on the edge of the lake looking at them. - -The princess, Agnes, Ann, and Reginald, were the principal actors in -that scene. The two girls, muffled in their soft furs, with their -petticoats above their ankles, showing their pretty feet, were a sight -to rejoice the heart, as the sight of all young things must be. The -winter sunshine glinted in Agnes's bright hair, and lit up her dark eyes -with the happiest, softest merriment. - -"I never saw such a pretty creature!" said Reginald to Ann, when she had -left them after the day's sport. - -"Take care. You will be losing your heart to her!" said Ann, laughing. - -"I have done that long ago," he answered. "The first time she looked at -me she took my heart away with her. If I had not been a king's man -before, she would have made me one." - -"She is but twelve years old," said Ann, laughing; "you will have to -wait long for her, Reginald." - -"And the time will seem but short," he answered, "if I may but see her -once and again. Do you know her name, Ann?" - -"Agnes, I have heard; nothing more," she answered. "But that young man, -Delarry, said casually that she had been the darling of the queen-mother -and the princess ever since she was a baby. Nobody knows aught about her -save the queen and Mistress Patience, who carried her over to France -when she was almost in swaddling clothes." - -"I was sure of it," said Reginald. "She is a child of one of the great -old families; she looks it, my little sweetheart!" And from that time -forth Reginald hovered round Agnes, and people laughed at her and called -him her knight, and she was mighty pleased and made no little boast of -her handsome cavalier. - -It was all so open, so fresh, this budding love; without depth or -passion, it had sprung up like the flowers, and like them was pure and -serene. There was no past, no future for those young creatures; they -lived just for the hour, as with flying feet they skimmed the ice, the -fresh, sharp air cutting their faces. The joy of life was with them and -upon them as it never would be again. They did not recognize how with -each fleeting moment a joy-note sounded and died away. In after-years -they would listen for the echo with that intense longing of hearts which -have known unalloyed happiness; would they hear it again, or would it go -from them for ever, with the flitting moments? Blessed are those who -like them have heard it, whose lips have uttered the words, "I am so -happy, so happy!" - -They came like a song of joy to Agnes's lips as she went hither and -thither with Reginald beside her. He, bending towards her, said with a -note of triumph in his voice: - -"I would this might last for ever, my little sweetheart----" - -"For ever!" she repeated. "For ever! Why not?" - -He had not the heart to cast a shadow on that joy. Why tell her nothing -lasts for ever? And so he only answered, "Why not?" - -On the morrow the order came: "Back to Somerset House; the air is -purified; Christmas is coming; you must come back." - -Before leaving, the princess sent for Reginald Newbolt and his sister, -and they bade each other farewell. "It will not be for long," said the -princess. "I will ask my mother, the queen, to make you one of her maids -of honour, Mistress Ann; so you may live with us, for I have taken a -great liking to you." - -"I am afraid the queen will not favour me," was the quiet answer. "I -have not been brought up after your foreign fashion. I do not know your -ways or manners. I am a plain English girl." - -"Oh, that does not matter at all! We have many English ladies in our -suite, and the queen loves them well." - -"But my mother would not let me dwell in the queen's household; she says -it is godless," said Ann, colouring deeply; "it would, I think, break -her heart." - -"Ah well," said Henrietta carelessly, "you must please yourself if you -are so over-strict." - -"Say rather, I must obey my mother," answered Ann; "but nevertheless I -am grateful to you and thank you." And she stooped and kissed the -princess's hand. So they parted. - -As she was going out Patrick Delarry met her. He was an Irishman who had -been with the queen in France, and of earthly possessions had few; but -he was a true Irishman, full of jokes and fun, taking things lightly -even as the Stuarts did, and, because of this very carelessness, the -noble sweetness of Ann had attracted him. - -They met in the corridor leading to the grand staircase. He paused, -bowed before her, saying, "This is no farewell, Mistress Ann; we shall -meet in London." - -"Maybe we shall; maybe we shall not," returned Ann. "The princess is -very good and desires to give me a place at court, but my mother would -not hear of such a thing; she is strict in her conduct, and has brought -her children up as strictly." - -"I am sorry," said Delarry, "but I daresay she is right. Still, that -will not prevent our meeting, Mistress Ann. Your father is serving the -king; your brother will have a commission in the Guards; surely you will -mix in good society?" - -"I greatly fear not," answered Ann. "My mother says that young maidens -should remain at home, and that the court is full of snares." - -Delarry laughed. "It is pretty bad," he said, "but you will remember -that if you owe your duty to your mother, you owe it also to the king, -your master. If he bids you attend upon his sister, surely you will not -refuse. Somerset House is not Whitehall." - -He spoke with significance, and Ann coloured slightly, for she knew well -that the king's palace was far too gay and frivolous a place for young -maidens who respected themselves. - -"If I am summoned to Somerset House," she said, "and my father desires I -should go there, I hope my mother will let me, for the princess is very -sweet to me and my heart inclines towards her. As for little Agnes," -and she laughed lightly, "I do not think we shall lose sight of her. My -brother has lost his heart to her." - -"That is very evident," said Mr. Delarry; "she is a pretty child." - -"I must bid you adieu," said Ann. She curtsied and went quickly on her -way down the corridor. Delarry stood a second and watched her till she -disappeared. - -"A pretty Puritan maiden; I didn't know they were so smart," he thought. -"It will not be my fault if we do not meet again before long, Mistress -Ann." And so he too went his way. - -That same afternoon the princess and Agnes, with Patience, entered the -royal coach, and were driven back to Somerset House. They were neither -of them very cheerful, and the way seemed long and cold, for the air was -heavy with snow ready to fall. London looked dark and sombre when they -entered it, with only the great torches flaring as the torch-bearers -held them on high in front of the coach to guide the driver through the -narrow streets of the city. The courtyard of Somerset House was also -lit up; but it was a sad home-coming, nevertheless, and the queen-mother -welcomed them with tears. - -"I do not know how it is," she said to her daughter. "I loved this -country once and I was happy; now I am miserable here. I would go back -to France; this death of your brother is an evil omen." - -"Nay, Mother, do not go just yet," said Henrietta. "We have come home at -a bad season of the year. You tell me that the spring is lovely in -England; let us wait and see;" then, sitting before the fire, she and -Agnes told her what good sport they had at Hampton Court, and they spoke -of Reginald and Ann. - -The queen frowned. "Patience is over-indulgent to you," she said. "You -have no right to make the acquaintance of strangers, especially of these -upstarts. You say the father is Colonel Newbolt; he was one of -Cromwell's men. Now, because it suits himself and his purse, he is a -king's man. To-morrow, if it suits him, he will be the people's man -again. I am sick of it all." - -"Do you not think it well, Mother, to encourage these people to become -faithful lieges to the king?" said Henrietta. - -"Faithful!" said the queen, with a mocking laugh. "I have ceased to look -for faithfulness anywhere. As soon as you are married, Henrietta--and -that will, I trust, be before long--we will go back to France. Your -brother's court does not suit me, and his friends do not suit me. Your -brother, the Duke of York, is enamoured of Clarendon's daughter, Ann -Hyde, and there has been much scandal--a secret marriage. It has set -the people talking. I tell you I am sick of it all. There is a -vulgarity which savours not of kings in the whole tone of England now." - -Her daughter did not answer her; she could not--she did not understand -what was amiss. She was but a girl still. When she was a woman she -understood better. - -Fortunately it was nearly Christmas time, and so that season brought a -certain amount of gaiety and brightness. They were not accustomed to -make as much of it in France as in England, where, then as now, everyone -rejoiced, everyone made merry. It had gone out of fashion to a great -extent during the Commonwealth, but people were glad to go back to their -old ways and drag the Yule-log into the great hall. It was a good -season for the poor, when before great fires bullocks and sheep were -roasted whole in the streets. There were mummers, and morris-dances, -and all manner of sports. - -To Agnes's great disgust a week or two before Christmas she received a -letter from Ann, telling her that they were going away down to their -country place, because their mother could not abide in London. She was -willing to feast the poor in the country and those who needed help, but -the frivolities of London did not suit her, and she would not stay -there. Indeed, she was afraid her mother would not let her come back, -which grieved her sorely, for she loved her friends, and would have -gladly served the Princess Henrietta. - -When she received this letter Agnes wept bitterly. - -"Is there no means by which she could be brought to court?" she said to -Patience. - -"I know of none except by the king's command," said Patience, "and -unfortunately the queen-mother is not well inclined towards the -Newbolts." - -"Where is their country place?" asked Agnes. - -"How should I know?" answered Patience. "They are new people who have -old lands which by rights belong to others." - -She spoke bitterly, and Agnes noticed it. - -"Well," she said, "I like the Newbolts; I met the colonel last week when -he was presented to the king. He is a fine man, but the queen received -him coldly; and when I asked the princess why her mother did so, she -said, 'Because she misdoubts all old Parliamentarians. There is not one -of them but had a hand in my father's death'." - -"'Well, at least Reginald hadn't,'" I said. "He was very young at the -time, and both he and Ann have told me that when they heard of the -king's death they wept and stamped their feet at their father, saying it -was a shame, for which their mother flogged them both and sent them to -bed with bread and water. 'But it only made us more loyal,' Ann said. -By the bye, Patience, do you know I saw Reginald ride past the other day -on his way to Whitehall in the full uniform of the King's Guard? He -looked so handsome." - -"Where did you see him from?" asked Patience. - -"Oh, from the stained mullion window in the corridor behind my room. I -often go and stand there because I see into the Strand. I think I like -the town better than the river." - -"Happily, it is a stained window, so people do not see you," said -Patience. "It is not seemly for a maiden to be staring on to the public -road." - -"But people do see me," said Agnes. "Reginald saw me, and he saluted. -You know he is my knight, Patience." - -"I know I will not suffer you to behave thus," said Patience. "A -cavalier saluting a maiden at her window, above all things a maiden in -Somerset House! It must not be, Agnes; you are old enough to know -better." - -"I do not know what I am," answered the girl impetuously. "Sometimes I -am a child, sometimes a girl, sometimes I am almost a grown woman, as -suits your fancy, Patience." And the big tears gathered in her eyes and -rolled down her face. - -"My pretty, my pretty, do not weep," said Patience, and she put her arm -round the girl's waist and drew her upon her lap. "You must mind what I -am going to say to you, Agnes," she continued. "You are not like other -girls, and you must be circumspect. You have no one to defend you from -evil tongues, no one to lift you up if you were to fall; you are alone. -The queen loved your mother; your father died for her husband, and so -she harbours you; but she may not always do so. The day may come when -she will go back to France, and that will be no place for you when the -princess is married." - -"Why not--why not?" said Agnes. "I shall go with her." - -"Not if I can help it," answered Patience. "I love you too well, my -dove, to let you scorch your wings in the court of the Palais Royal and -Versailles. We must remain in England, Agnes, and the king must pension -you; it is your due." - -"But have I no kith or kin, no one belonging to me?" asked the girl. - -"No one," answered Patience, "at least that I know of." - -"And did my father and mother leave me no wealth and no lands?" said -Agnes. - -"What gold they had," said Patience, "I took to France with me, and all -these years it has served us. There is not much left, and as for lands -they are forfeited. Cromwell did what he chose with them and gave them -to whom he would. So you see, my child, you must be prudent. One thing -you have which you must hold--your good name." - -"Agnes Beaumont," said the girl. - -"That is not all, you have another name," said Patience, looking at her, -"but I have sworn not to reveal it to you until your wedding day or till -you are of age." - -"Why not?" she asked. "Why should not I know my own name?" - -"Because it might be a danger to you," answered Patience. "There are -those who might wish you ill and do you wrong. When you have a husband -you will have someone to defend you; when you are of age you must judge -for yourself." - -"Does no one except you know who I am?" asked Agnes. - -"Yes, the queen-dowager knows, and the king," said Patience. "When he -gives you back what is yours, then he will tell you himself what your -station is." - -Tears gathered in Agnes's eyes. - -"I do not like it," she said. "Have I anything to be ashamed of?" she -asked, her voice trembling. - -"Ashamed!" exclaimed Patience. "No, indeed! far from that. I tell you -it is for your own personal good, to shield you from those who have -taken your lands from you and who might resent their being restored to -you. You are the last of your race; your very birth has been hidden, -but it will all come right one day if only you will be patient." - -"Very well," said Agnes, "I will ask no questions; I will wait. It does -not really matter, only I heard someone say the other day, 'Agnes -Beaumont! What Beaumont is that?' and no one seemed to know." - -"It was your mother's name," said Patience; "you have a right to bear -it, for you were christened Agnes Beaumont. Your father's name alone is -wanting, and that you will surely claim one day, either you or your -husband for you." - -"Oh, that husband!" said Agnes, laughing; "I wonder who he will be!" - -"A noble gentleman, I trust," said Patience, "who will give you back all -that you have lost." - -Agnes pouted. - -"I do not care to go to any man as a beggar girl," she answered proudly. - -"That you surely will not," answered Patience. "Have no fear. And now -let me dress you. The princess is going to Whitehall with the queen -to-night, and you are to accompany her. It is a mistake, a great -mistake," continued Patience; "you are too young." - -"Ah! but I like it," said Agnes; "I like going to the king's court, and, -if the Princess Henrietta goes, surely it cannot hurt me." - -Patience shook her head. - -"I am not so sure of that," she said. - -"Oh, well, never mind!" said Agnes; "you dear old thing, you are always -frightened lest something should befall me. Let me wear my satin gown -embroidered with rosebuds to-night; it becomes me well." - -"You cannot," said Patience; "the court is in mourning still, have you -forgotten?" - -"Ah! yes, I forgot," said Agnes. "The poor duke. Well, give me my lilac -gown with the black knots." And thus soberly attired she went to court. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *May-Day* - - -Time flies for the young; the days, the weeks, the months seem to have -wings; they heed it not, they are glad, because each day is a new joy, a -new surprise. - -So it was with the Princess Henrietta and Agnes. They had no cares, at -least Agnes had none. She loved the winter, the biting cold, the snow, -the frost; she would go out with Patience in all weathers, and ofttimes -with the princess to St. James's Park, where they would skate and -otherwise disport themselves. Gradually, however, Agnes fell into the -background; she was too young to be at all the court parties, and -Patience observed this to the queen-dowager. - -"She is but a child, and the late hours are injuring her," she said; -"let her abide at home with me." And the queen acquiesced; indeed, she -knew full well that the king's court was no place for the young. - -Arrangements were being made for Henrietta's marriage to the Duke of -Orleans, and many noblemen and courtiers came over from France to greet -her. Her time was much taken up with all this, so that Agnes naturally -drifted into a quieter world, and was seen less and less in public, -excepting when there were grand receptions at Somerset House. Some of -these she was permitted to attend, for girls were older for their years -in those days than they are now; still, she was not as much at home in -the court circle as she had been when she was only a spoilt child. She -did not care for, or rather she did not understand, the compliments -which were sometimes addressed to her--for she was very pretty, nay, she -was beautiful, and attracted not a little attention from women as well -as men. She was a general favourite, and if Patience would have allowed -it she would have had many invitations and have been made much of. But -Patience was a very dragon of propriety. - -"You shall not go," she said. "You are too young." - -"I do not care to go," Agnes answered. "I cannot abide it." - -More than once Patience found her asleep, her pillow wet with tears. -She did not question her, she guessed what it was. The first sorrow in -her life would soon come. In June the Princess Henrietta was to be -married, and then they would be parted and she would be alone. - -"That will not be good for the child," Patience reasoned. "What shall I -do with her, where shall I take her?" - -A curious thing happened. Ann Newbolt had returned to London and little -by little had wound herself into Patience's good graces. More than once -they had met in the park when Agnes was taking her morning airing. Ann -was given to coming thither at the same hour with two dogs which she -brought with her to give them a free run. - -"I could not be without them," she would say, "and so I begged Father to -let me bring them up from the manor for company's sake. Our big London -house is so dreary." - -Now Agnes had never had any animals of her own, and her delight was -great when, after a few outings, Caesar and Juno--for so they were -called--learned to know her, and would bound across the park when they -saw her coming, and well-nigh knock her down with joy. She would run -with them, she would play with them. At first this was much to -Patience's displeasure; but Ann had her old nurse with her, and she said -to Patience: - -"Let the child be, let her run and play; she is too much cooped up in -your palace. Do you not see she is growing pale?" - -Ann chimed in, "She is like a hot-house plant; you are forcing her, -Mistress Patience." - -"Not I," returned Patience, "but those who surround her, those who do -not understand that she is a child." - -"Why do you not take her into the country and let her run wild for a -year or two?" asked Ann's nurse. "Then you would bring her back as -fresh and fair as a rose. Court life is not good for children." - -"I would I could do it," said Patience; "but I am not mistress." - -"Shall you go back to France with the queen?" asked Ann. - -"No, I will not do that," said Patience; "I would rather carry her away -and hide her. King Charles's court is bad enough; what the Duke of -Orleans will be I dare not even think. No, I will keep my sweet lamb -unspotted if I can. She knows no evil, therefore she sees none, though -she be hedged in with wrong-doers. But that will not always be. I -promised her dear mother I would protect her, and so, help me God, I -will." - -"You will do well," said Ann. "She is a sweet flower, and worthy of all -care; I would she were my sister." - -"I pray I may live to see her an honest man's wife," said Patience. - -Such conversations as these were frequent between the two, Patience not -having the remotest idea that it was the Newbolts who possessed the -lands which should have been Agnes's heritage. - -The Newbolts were equally ignorant that Agnes was a De Lisle. To them -she was, and had ever been, plain "Agnes Beaumont", the queen's -favourite and the Princess Henrietta's devoted companion. - -But enlightenment was soon to come to Patience. The winter passed, and -the spring began to show itself. The trees in the park were budding -green; April showers succeeded March winds, and there was much gaiety in -London. Gilded coaches went and came in the streets, barges floated up -the Thames, and no one troubled, though many knew, that the royal -exchequer was well-nigh empty. The people adored their king as they had -never adored his saintly father. Wherever he passed there were shouts -of, "Long live the king!" and his smiles and bows were received with -enthusiasm. - -Never had a king been so popular. There was laughter and merriment -everywhere, dancing and songs even in the streets. The only place where -any decorum was observed was at Somerset House. There the queen-dowager -dwelt, and the people did not love her. She never had been a favourite. -Many people were ready to lay the blame of her dead husband's errors -upon her shoulders, so they frowned upon the queen-dowager and her -sombre court, while they laughed at the merry court at Whitehall, and -would not listen to the evil reports of the goings-on within its -precincts. - -The pendulum had swung back; the order of the day had changed; they -treated Charles, his follies, his sins, as they might have treated the -peccadilloes of a spoilt child. When he rode forth in his gilded coach -or went on horseback through the city with his favourites and his -brother, the Duke of York, in his rich attire of gold and satin, his -long, curled wig, great hat with plumes which swept almost on to his -shoulders, the people were wild with delight, and would press round him -in their eagerness; and he would speak to them, calling them his good -people, bidding them make way for him, with that wonderful charm of -manner, that smile, which was the inherent gift of the Stuart race, and -won every heart. They cared not what he did nor what he said; he was -their king, their chosen one, their beloved. If he squandered money -they laughed, and hardly grumbled at supplying his extravagances. Had -he not suffered dire poverty in those evil days when Cromwell sat in his -seat and the Puritan preachers thundered their maledictions against him -from St. Paul's Cross? Every old English custom which could be raked up -was brought to the fore, to the extreme delight of all men. He touched -for the king's evil, and the sick believed they were cured. In the -people's imaginings he could not do wrong, though wrong stared them in -the face. - -In olden days there had stood in the Strand a big May-pole, which was -decorated on the first of May with flowers and ribbons, and round which -sports, and dances, and great merriment were wont to take place; but -when the Puritans were masters they exclaimed against this device, as -they did against everything that savoured of pleasure, which they -considered unholy. So the ancient May-pole, which stood a hundred feet -high in the Strand, had been hewn to the ground; there were no more -sports on May-Day. Indeed, there were few sports in England at all -during that season of strict observance of the Sabbath. - -Young men and maidens well-nigh forgot how to dance. They went softly, -they laughed but little, because at any sign of outward rejoicing their -elders frowned upon them. The faces of the men seemed to grow longer, -the pretty curls on the maidens' heads were smoothed away beneath -tight-fitting caps. It was not a genial time, and so now, when the sun -shone, and the flowers burst forth, there arose a gentle murmur -throughout the land: "Let us have our May-poles again." - -London was, as usual, the first place whence this cry proceeded, and -thousands responded to it--the king and the Duke of York among the -foremost. Yes, they would have a May-pole, larger and finer than any -previous one. - -The citizens of London determined to make a display of their loyalty. -We read in an old tract of the times, called "The City's Loyalty -Displayed", how this tree was a most choice and remarkable piece. -"'Twas made below bridge" (that is, below London Bridge), and brought in -two parts up to Scotland Yard, near the king's palace of Whitehall, and -thence it was conveyed, on April 14, 1661, to the Strand, to be erected -there. It was brought with streamers flourishing before it, drums -beating all the way, and other sorts of music. It was so long that -landsmen could not possibly raise it; therefore the Duke of York, Lord -High Admiral of England, commanded twelve seamen to come and officiate -in this business. - -They came, and brought their cables, pulleys, and other tackle, along -with six great anchors. After these were brought three crowns, borne by -three men, bareheaded, and a streamer displayed all the way before them, -drums playing, and other music; people thronging the streets with great -shouts and acclamations all day long. The May-pole then being joined -together and looped about with bands of iron, the crown and cane ("the -sceptre"), with the king's arms richly gilded, was placed on the head of -it. A large hoop like a balcony was about the middle of it. Then, -amidst sounds of trumpets and drums, and loud cheering, and the shouts -of the people, the May-pole, far more glorious, bigger, and higher than -any that had preceded it, was raised upright, "which", we are told, -"highly pleased the merry monarch and the illustrious prince, the Duke -of York, and the little children did much rejoice, ancient people did -clap their hands, saying, 'the golden days had begun to appear'. A -party of morris-dancers came forward, finely decked with purple scarves -and their half shirts, with tabor and pipe--the ancient music--and -danced round about the May-pole." - -This went on for some time, and there never was seen again such a -May-day as in this year of Our Lord, 1661. - -From the windows of Somerset House Princess Henrietta and Agnes watched -the ceremonies. The putting up and the decking of this token that "the -summer had come ", aroused a more tenacious loyalty than ever. - -Day by day, as they watched, Agnes's excitement increased; it was no use -for Patience to tell her she should not be seen at the open window. - -"I must, I must!" she cried; and, indeed, it would have been cruel to -hinder her. - -All over England that May-Day was remembered long afterwards. The king -had come into his rights again, the people had come into theirs, and -they would not be gainsaid. - -As for Agnes, she tried to put care on one side, though she knew that -Henrietta's marriage loomed not far distant; sometimes she wondered what -was to become of her when it was accomplished. Once or twice she -approached Patience on the subject, but she frowned and answered her: - -"Do not trouble, child. Think ye that you are of less account than the -sparrows on the house-tops or the lilies in the field?" And she would -hurry away, leaving Agnes with her own thoughts and her own fears. - -No wonder if on the child's face there came a serious expression, a -certain sadness, which is often to be seen on the faces of children who -are motherless and fatherless, a sort of yearning for something, they -know not what, that has been denied to them. - -And yet Agnes was not unhappy. Mistress Newbolt had refused at first to -come up to London, but the colonel had insisted she should do so. - -"It is injuring Ann's prospects," he said, "and I cannot entertain -guests in a house where there is no mistress." Therefore she had been -obliged to yield, but she did so only in so far that she ruled the -servants and saw that there was no wilful waste. For herself she -remained in her own apartments, and would not join in the entertainments -which her husband delighted in, neither would she permit Ann to do so. - -Thus it came to pass that Agnes and Ann drew closer and closer one to -the other. Not a day passed but they saw one another. Agnes delighted -to go to their house, and, strange to tell, Mistress Newbolt took a vast -liking to her. She would let her follow her into her store closet; she -would let her watch her make the dainty comfits for which she was -renowned; and she would send her away with all manner of good things -piled in a little basket which she kept for that purpose. But if she did -her these kindnesses, she insisted that every time she came to see her -she should go with her to her closet, and there she would read to her -some portion of the Bible and would pray with her. Agnes conformed -meekly to her desires. She looked upon her as a saint, and though she -was stern and cold, and never caressed her, there was a certain -motherliness about her which appealed to the child's heart. - -So the month of June came, and the Princess Henrietta was carried over -to France to meet the saddest fate that can befall any woman, namely to -marry a bad man. Agnes thought her heart would break when she bade her -and the queen adieu. Indeed, she fell quite sick with sorrow, lay on her -bed, turned her face to the wall, and would not be comforted. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *A First Parting* - - -Queen Henrietta had been loath to part from Agnes, and she would have -kept the child about her person had it been possible for her to do so, -and had Agnes been a few years older; but to take a child just budding -into girlhood alone, without any other companion, or without any -definite object in view, to the French court seemed folly. - -It had been settled that Patience should make a home for her in England. -The queen had spoken seriously to the king about Agnes, and he had -settled a pension on her, "until I can do better," he said. "But we -must first find out to whom her estates have passed. I'll enquire into -the matter. I do not suppose I shall be able to restore them to her; -but something shall be done either when she marries or comes of age. -Till then I will give her a suite of apartments at Hampton Court." - -"That is good," said Henrietta, "and my little lady shall have her town -house too, for I will leave Patience in charge of my private apartments -in Somerset House. I do not care for all manner of people to have -access to them, and so Agnes can come to town when she likes." - -"And to court when she is old enough," said Charles, with a merry laugh -and twinkling eye. - -"No, your majesty," answered Henrietta, "she must wait for that till my -return, and until her position is settled. She has no womankind to -watch over her except Patience, so she must abide at home." - -"As you please," said Charles carelessly. So the matter was settled. - -Henrietta explained all this to Patience, Agnes standing by and -listening. They even went out to Hampton Court and looked at the -apartments which the king had ordered to be prepared for her. The rooms -were bright enough, looking out upon a sort of private garden, in a wing -of the palace. The queen thought them poorly furnished, and added many -little comforts and graceful remembrances, which made them look more -home-like. - -At times over this unfortunate queen's soul, seared and wounded by -sorrow, the old gaiety, the warm, affectionate nature with which she was -endowed, would once more show itself, oftener perhaps to Agnes than to -anyone else, even oftener than to her own daughter. - -"She grows so like her mother," she said one day to Patience, tears -filling her eyes, and then she would give Agnes some present, and make -much of her. - -"My little girl," she said at parting, "it costs me a great deal to -leave you behind, but I think Patience is right. You have much to -learn. Apply yourself to study; both you and Henrietta have been -neglected. It does not matter for her--the women at the French court are -for the most part ignorant, some of them can scarcely read or write; but -your home will be in England--your father and mother desired it--and -some women are very learned in England. I have left you good teachers, -a tutor, and a governess, so see that your time is well employed." - -Then she kissed her. - -It was a very lonely little maiden who walked on the terrace of Somerset -House, a beautiful dove-coloured greyhound, which the queen had given -her, her only companion. The animal kept close to its little mistress, -thrusting its long muzzle into her hand as if to console her, its -speaking brown eyes looking up at her as if to say, "Never mind. We are -both young; we shall see them again"; and so she paced up and down the -terrace, then, bidding Duke lie down and wait for her, she entered the -chapel--a lovely piece of architecture, the work of Inigo Jones--the -doors of which were always kept open, though, now the queen was gone, -they would be closed. - -It required considerable tact in those difficult religious times to -bring up a child born of English parents in the midst of the French -court. But Patience was a wise woman, broad-minded, and with what was -then an almost unknown quality, a vast toleration. She held an -anomalous position in the queen's household, even as Agnes herself did; -but the marked deference the queen-mother showed her, made it evident -that she was a person of high station. The education both of Agnes and -the Princess Henrietta was left, to a very great extent, in her hands; -it was the same with the religious teaching, the princess had the court -chaplain, but Agnes knelt with Patience and learnt the great truths of -religion from her lips; she guarded her soul as she guarded her body, -she would allow of no religious discussions in her presence. To the -grand services of the Church of Rome she did not take her. "You are too -young, you would not understand," she said; but morning and evening she -would go with her into one of the many beautiful churches in Paris, and -in silence and devotion watch and pray. So the child learnt all -reverence and the great gospel truths. The Bible was a familiar book to -her, read in their quiet chamber. "When you are older you will learn -many other things," she told her; and since they had come to England -Agnes had awakened to the knowledge that the Christian Church was -divided against itself. Sometimes the thought troubled her. Her soul -was growing, she was striving to see and understand. Instinctively now, -in this her first sorrow, she sought comfort where alone she knew it -could be found, and so she entered the beautiful chapel and knelt and -prayed that her friends might be given back to her. Then she crossed -her arms on the back of the prie-Dieu, and her tears flowed fast and -little sobs escaped her. Suddenly she felt a hand laid on her shoulder, -and looking up she saw Patience. They both gazed into each other's eyes -and smiled. - -"Be comforted, sweetheart," whispered Patience; and the beauty of her -face, the saintliness of it, struck Agnes as it had never done before. - -In truth, Patience, even in appearance, was by no means an ordinary -woman. She had a marked personality, was tall and slight, holding -herself very erect, always dressed in black, plainly but not -inelegantly. She had a certain distinction about her. In age she could -not have been more than forty, and she did not look that even. Under -her white coif her brown hair waved softly; there were no wrinkles or -marks of age upon her face; her hazel eyes were clear, but with an -ineffable sadness in them--indeed, sadness was the note which Patience -struck. She was seldom seen to smile; even when Agnes was a little -child she played with her sadly; but she loved her so intensely that the -child did not feel this sadness. She would sooner be with Patience than -with anyone; Patience meant home to her. She seldom openly caressed -her, but then her whole life toward Agnes was one caress, and -instinctively the child felt this. - -Now she rose quickly from her knees, and threw her arms round her neck, -murmuring: - -"At least I have you, my own dear Patience; you have not forsaken me." - -"Did you think that possible, my darling?" And taking her by the hand, -she led her out into the open. With a short bark of joy and a prolonged -whine, Duke sprang upon them. - -"I was looking for you," said Patience, "and could not find you. Duke -saw me coming along the terrace, and bounded whining to me. 'Where is -Agnes?' I asked him. He turned, leapt towards the chapel, looking round -to see that I followed him." - -"Ah, he is a dear dog!" said Agnes, laying her hand on his head. "Why -were you looking for me, Patience? You knew I should not be far." - -"Because you forget you are alone now," was the quiet answer, "and you -must not wander away; it is not safe for a young girl like you to be -alone. You know how seldom I left you and the princess, and then you had -an attendant." - -"I thought that was for the princess," said Agnes, "because of her high -dignity. It does not matter about me; I am nobody." - -A slight smile played round Patience's mouth. "We are all somebody," she -said; "we have our honour to safeguard, and a young maiden cannot be -seen alone, in these times especially." - -"Is that why I am to have a governess?" asked Agnes sharply. "I do not -like it; let me stay with you, Patience." - -"For you to run away as you have done now?" was the answer. "Besides, -you need someone to teach you many things of which I am ignorant." - -"And I am to have a tutor too; I cannot require both," Agnes continued. -"We shall be happier alone, Patience, you and I. I will promise you I -will work and never run away; and when you want to leave me, to see -after the queen's affairs, Ann Newbolt will come and sit with me or stay -with me if her mother will let her. I cannot have a governess sending -me to the right and to the left; it would drive me wild; _that would_ -make me run away." - -"Well, we will see," said Patience; "I am not much inclined for it." - -"Oh, you are not inclined for it at all!" said Agnes. "Think of someone -always present in our quiet evenings, or when we stroll about as we are -doing now; a third party would not be pleasing to either of us. If I -must needs always have someone with me, then there is old Martha; surely -she will frighten anyone away, and snarl like an angry dog if man, -woman, or child come within ten yards of me." - -Again Patience smiled--she never laughed. It was a sad smile, as if -there lay beneath it a whole world of memories. - -They moved to the edge of the terrace and looked up and down the river. -The waters sparkled and shone in the sunlight of this lovely June day. -Barges went and came, boatmen shouted to one another, the sky was blue, -the light of the sun was dazzling: it was one of those days which have a -touch of Italy in them--the very air was warm with perfume, and the -scene was so bright that it seemed to sweep away the great sadness which -had oppressed Agnes. - -"Yes, you will think about it, Patience," she persisted. "We must be -happy together, you and I. After all, I knew the princess would go one -day." - -Once more the tears gathered in her eyes; but they did not fall, for -coming towards them was Reginald Newbolt. - -He made them a deep bow, his plumed hat sweeping the ground, and his -young handsome face alight with kindly sympathy. He saw the tears in -Agnes's eyes, but taking no note of them, said: - -"My mother has sent me to ask you on this lovely day to go with her in -our barge to the park at Greenwich, which adjoins the palace. It is -well in the country, and the air is fresher there than it is here in the -city. You must come, because my mother so seldom proposes anything -approaching a diversion. I have not known her go beyond the precincts of -her own home for years. I think, Mistress Agnes, you have thrown your -spell upon her." - -Agnes blushed. "I should like to go," she said. "Can we, Patience?" - -"Why not?" was the quiet answer, for Patience knew that Mistress Newbolt -had conceived this plan to divert Agnes from her sadness. - -"Yes, we will go," she said. "Where is the barge?" - -"At London Bridge. You can use your own till you get there, then you -will use ours. Ann and mother will be waiting for us." - -A barge not unlike a Venetian gondola always stood moored to the steps -leading down from the terrace to the water's edge, so they had not far -to go. The distance to London Bridge was but short, and during the -journey to Greenwich Agnes found herself made much of, not allowed to -grieve or feel herself alone. She was verily a spoilt child, and whilst -Patience and Mistress Newbolt sat beneath the trees in the Park, Agnes, -Reginald, and Ann wandered into the quaint old garden of the palace -known as "The Queen's House", filled with all the blossoms of summer, -scented with great bunches of lavender and sweet marjoram. As they -strolled about there the strength of her youth overcame the sorrow of -her heart, and the great world in which Agnes had lived so lonely, fine -gentlemen and ladies, valets and maid-servants, all those accessories to -court life, seemed to drop away from her as useless and cumbersome. The -sweetness and simplicity of nature, as she had never known it before, -crept over her. She had lived all her life in palaces surrounded by -etiquette, now for the first time in her life she walked with quiet -folk, with neither queens nor princesses, only with this simple maiden -Ann and this young man, who, notwithstanding his military attire, was so -easy and kindly of manner that she had no fear of him. To divert her -thoughts Reginald and his sister talked to her about things of which she -knew little--the country, the flowers. They told her, too, of Newbolt -Manor, and how pleasant it was up in the bonnie north. - -"But you have not always dwelt there?" said Agnes. - -"No," answered Ann, "we are new people. Cromwell gave it to my father -for his services. One thing comforts me," continued Ann, "we have -turned no one out, for there was no heir; the last owner was killed -fighting for King Charles." - -"It would not have mattered if there had been an heir," said Agnes, a -little bitterly; "we Royalists were dispossessed of all we had. What -was the name of the people who came before you in the land?" - -"De Lisle," said Reginald shortly. - -An old man busy weeding a pathway suddenly drew himself up and said -sharply: - -"De Lisle! Who talks of the De Lisles? They were accursed and driven -out, possessors of church lands. Fire and sword have purified them; -they will come back again." - -He looked from one to another till his eyes rested on Agnes. Pointing -at her, he added: - -"Yea, verily, they will come back to their own again. Hate drove them -out; love will bring them back." - -There was a prophetic tone in his voice and a flash in his eye; both -died out, and he went back to his weeding. - -"Let us go into the park," said Agnes; "he has frightened me, I know not -why." - -Passing through a side gate they entered the park, crossed a stretch of -level grass, and came to the foot of a steep hill. - -"Let's see who will reach the top first," said Ann gleefully. "Not you, -Reginald, that would not be fair." And off she went, Agnes running -beside her, the one a strong north-country girl, the other a fairy -creature, who had never climbed a hill in her life. But Agnes was so -light, so swift, that she outran her companion, and stood at the top of -the hill clapping her hands and laughing with pleasure. Reginald with -long strides had followed them. - -"You are a fay," he said. "Now let us run down." - -"All of us!" exclaimed Agnes, excited with the unusual motion, and the -fresh breezes which came from land and river. - -"Give me your hand," said Reginald, "or you will be tripping." - -She would have resisted, but he took it. And it was well he did, for -she had not reckoned on the impetus of a downhill race, and more than -once her foot slipped on the green sward; but he held her firmly, and -they reached the bottom, laughing merrily, her pretty golden hair all -ruffled with the wind, her face flushed, and her eyes bright. - -Ann was equally joyous. They were a merry trio when they joined -Patience and Mistress Newbolt under a great oak tree, where a cloth had -been spread, pies, and cakes, and a heap of ripe strawberries presenting -a tempting meal. - -Verily there are bright days in life which leave their mark in our -hearts, and bring a rush of gladness to the eyes and a smile to the lips -when we recall them. - -This day was a red-letter day; it had begun sadly, but it ended -brightly. They re-entered the barge, and in the quiet evening twilight -they floated up the great river on the top of the tide, and, landing -once more at Somerset House, bade each other farewell, with a feeling of -regret that so lovely a day had its ending. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *A King's Vengeance* - - -For some time past both Mistress Newbolt and Ann had noticed a great -restlessness in Colonel Newbolt's speech and manner. He was given to -great rages. If anyone came suddenly into the house, he would start up -and question them as to their business; indeed, it seemed to his family -as if he feared something. - -Ann told Reginald this one day, and the young man looked grave. - -"I am not surprised," he answered. "Matters are getting serious; the -king's exchequer is somewhat empty and difficult to refill, and those -about him are not scrupulous as to the ways and means by which it may be -replenished. You know that all the principal regicides, eighty or -ninety odd, some of the best men, have already been dragged to the -scaffold, and in most cases their property has been confiscated. But -this does not suffice; there are hundreds of others, gentlemen and -commoners, ministers, all sorts and conditions of men, who, if they did -not vote for the king's death, did not vote against it. Many have been -arrested and thrown into prison; some have fled to Geneva, where they -are safe; others are in hiding; but some, like my father, have remained -at home, fully persuaded that no harm is likely to befall them, seeing -they have given their adhesion to Charles II. But I am much afraid this -will not be enough. Courtiers are turning a cold shoulder to them, and -I find myself somewhat put on one side. - -"I should not be surprised at any moment if my father were called to -account and in a certain measure made to refund, for the old Royalists -are clamouring to be restored to their estates and to be rewarded for -their fidelity. Charles tries to satisfy them in many cases, but not in -all; he cannot, and there is much discontent. An empty exchequer and -followers who have despoiled themselves for their masters are difficult -to deal with. It is not a pleasant prospect, and both he and his -ministers seem to think the only way of meeting it is by taking back -what Cromwell gave, if it can be proved that the recipients were -accessories to Charles's death." - -"And our father commanded a regiment of horse at Whitehall on the very -day of the king's execution," said Ann, looking up. - -"I know it," answered Reginald. "It was his duty; he was under orders. -If this knowledge comes to the king's ears, then his command, probably -his estates, will be taken from him and he will be brought to trial." - -"That is what troubles him, then," said Ann. - -"It is enough to trouble any man," answered Reginald. "You see, he is -trying to serve two masters, which never answers, in this world or the -next." - -"What would you have him do?" asked Ann, aghast. - -"Do! There is nothing to do," said Reginald, "until the bomb bursts; -then, if there is still time and he can escape out of England, his life -may be spared, but his estates will be forfeited, and Newbolt Manor will -pass into other hands. A case of pure bartering," he added. "His -majesty will rob Paul to pay Peter; it has ever been the same." - -"Can nothing be done?" asked Ann. "I do not care for the loss of -Newbolt Manor, but I care for our father and our mother; it will break -their hearts." - -"I see nothing for it but to wait," said Reginald. "It is not likely -that our father will be passed over; indeed, I am not sure myself that I -shall not come in for a certain amount of opprobrium." - -"They cannot touch you, you were only a child," said Ann. - -"No, they cannot touch me. I am in the king's service, and I did him -homage before he came to the throne; but still there are so many with -better claims seeking advancement, it is difficult for me to hold my -own." - -Even while they were speaking there was a sound of many steps outside in -the street and in the hall, and a porter came in in haste. - -"Sir," he said, "there are men here asking for the master in the king's -name!" - -Ann's face turned deathly white. - -"So soon!" she exclaimed. - -"The sooner the better," Reginald answered; "it will be the quicker -over." - -"My father is not here," he said, going into the hall and addressing the -men. "I do not know even if he is in the house. You had better assure -yourselves of this; but first let me see your order." - -The commander of the company handed him a sheet of parchment. The -colour mounted to the young man's face as he read the order of his -father's arrest, "to answer certain questions as to his having been -treasonably concerned in the late king's death". - -[Illustration: "THE COMMANDER OF THE COMPANY HANDED HIM A SHEET OF -PARCHMENT"] - -Ann had followed him. He bent his head and whispered to her: - -"Go to our mother, but do not tell her." - -She was trying to slip away, but she found her passage barred by the -officer in command of the company. - -"I regret it, madam," he said; "but I cannot let you pass until the -house has been searched and we are assured the colonel is not here." - -"I never told you he was not here," said Reginald. "I bade you search -for him." - -As he uttered these words, a door at the farther end of the hall opened, -and the colonel came forward. - -"What do you require of me?" he asked. - -Before anyone could answer, Reginald handed him the paper. - -"It is well," he said; "I have expected this. I did not tell your -mother nor you, children, because I would not have you needlessly -anxious; now it has come to pass, I leave your mother to your care, -Reginald. Deal gently with her. Nay, weep not, Ann. You are a -soldier's daughter; it is not seemly." Notwithstanding his rough words, -he took her in his arms and kissed her. - -He shook Reginald by the hand, then saying: - -"Gentlemen, I am ready for you," passed out of the hall, and, mounting -the horse that was waiting for him, rode away surrounded by a guard of -soldiers. - -Ann and Reginald remained alone with the frightened servants, who -crowded around them. In a few words Reginald told them what had -happened, adding, "I do not think there is any danger for my father's -life; but that he will suffer imprisonment and be heavily fined is -probable. I would entreat of you all to keep quiet, and in public not -to make more ado than you can help." - -Reginald was a great favourite in the household; he was young and -generous, and they served him willingly. So with a loud voice they all -promised obedience, adding also their hope that their master would soon -be amongst them again. - -"I do not think there is the least fear but that he will," Reginald said -assuringly, and so they dispersed, and Reginald and Ann remained alone. - -Ann was very pale, but she was not trembling. She had a courageous -heart, and was at the present moment thinking more of her mother than of -her father. She knew full well that her mother had always been averse -from her husband joining the present king's cause, and she felt sure now -that she would call this a just retribution; but she would not take it -the less to heart, for under a cold exterior she had loved her husband -dearly, and served him as a true and honourable wife. - -Whilst the two stood hesitating, the door opened and Patience and Agnes -entered. - -"What's happened?" asked Agnes. "We saw a troop of soldiers riding -away; the street was full of them. They seemed to have a prisoner in -their midst; we could not see who it was." - -"It was my father," said Reginald. "He has been arrested for consenting -to the late king's death." - -"May the Lord help him!" said Patience. "Has there not been bloodshed -enough already, that they must be ever seeking for more!" - -"I do not think it is a case of blood," said Reginald, with something -approaching a sneer in his voice. "I think money will settle this;" and -the words and manner of the young man revealed a bitterness which had -been growing in his heart for some time past. He and Ann had been so -eager for King Charles to come back, they had welcomed him with such -unfeigned joy, such belief that he would bring back all that was noble, -all the greatness, the courage, and the bravery, the high moral tone -which had been his father's, that whatever errors there had been in the -past would cease now, indeed were already forgotten. Had not the whole -race of Stuarts been chastised? Had not the whole nation suffered? And -therefore they welcomed the king back as their chief good. The crown -was his by Right Divine and by the will of the people. He had come -back, and made merry, but he had no thought of forgiveness in his soul, -only a fierce desire for vengeance against those who had slain his -father and sent him into exile. That father had been a saint, and they -slew him. The son was a great sinner, and they bowed down before him. - -Reginald thought, and others thought with him, of all the blood that had -been shed. They had hoped that a great pardon would have sealed that -homecoming, instead of which it was vengeance and blood; whilst in the -very palace where they had witnessed the death of Charles I, there was -revelry and evil living, and an ignoring of all sacred things. - -Their idol was broken, and their ideals had faded into nothingness. For -the young this is a terrible experience: it cuts them to the heart, it -wounds them to the soul. As men and women grow older they become -accustomed to the daily and hourly disappointments of life. The shadow -of death has passed over them, the lights have gone out; either they -have grown hard and self-contained, or they have learnt to look beyond -this world and patiently abide in faith, hope, and charity, until they -shall pass into the kingdom of everlasting life. But the lesson has to -be learnt, the road has to be trodden, and the pricks hurt their feet. -The nobler the girl or the youth, the harder it is for them to lose -their ideals. - -Reginald was passing through this phase. He had built so much on this -home-coming of his king, he had thought of him almost as a god, from his -youth upwards; the son of that blessed saint and martyr, how should he -be less than a hero! The disillusion was great, the sorrow was greater. -Had he been of a less sensitive, a less noble nature himself, he would -have thrown all care to the wind, have joined the revellers, and been -content to lead the wild life of the young Cavaliers who had returned -with Charles from foreign lands, and who now thought of little else but -of making up for the years which had been passed in poverty and exile. -Those lean years had taught them no lesson of frugality or decorum; -rather they had made them impatient of restraint, desirous of making up -in folly and extravagances for the years they called wasted. - -Truly they were wasted, for they had brought forth no fruit. The lesson -God would have taught to the race of Stuarts and their adherents had -been of no avail. These men were like the Israelites of old, they had -neither ears to hear nor eyes to see, and the few faithful ones, who -loyally in England had waited for and prayed for their coming, were now -sick at heart. - -Yet Reginald had no thought of throwing up his allegiance; it was based -on too good a foundation--his God and his king. He could not serve one -and forsake the other, and so, though his heart was sore within him, and -he felt that dark days were coming both for him and his, as a brave man -he looked straight before him, trusting in a higher power than his own -to deliver them from evil. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *Arrested* - - -It was Patience who sought Mistress Newbolt in her chamber and told her -in a few words what had happened. It was even with her as her children -had thought it would be. - -"It is the Lord's justice," she said. "His will be done." She -straightened herself, went down to her household, and rebuked Ann when -she wept. - -"Shall not the Lord chastise His children?" she said. "Whom the Lord -loveth He chasteneth. Indeed, I am well pleased that our God careth for -us so well that He does chastise us; for, seeing we were so prosperous, -I feared He held us to be of no account, but now I am exalted, and my -spirit is glad within me, for the Lord has laid His hand on my house." - -This enthusiasm was wonderful; her face, which before had been sad, -shone now with an inner light of satisfaction. She went about her -duties with an energy and a briskness which had long failed her. - -The maid-servants exclaimed, "The mistress is of cheerful countenance; -is it seemly that she should rejoice over the master's misfortune?" - -If she divined their thoughts she paid no heed to them. - -"Poor ignorant souls, they cannot understand," she said to Patience, -who, to tell the truth, herself did not understand why the wife should -rejoice when her husband was sent to prison and was in danger of his -life. - -She remembered how sorely she had grieved over the misfortunes which had -befallen the royal standard, and how she had mourned for those who were -then laid low. - -"It is not natural," she said to Agnes; "we must accept the will of the -Lord, but we are not bound to rejoice when He afflicts us." - -Reginald had left the house almost immediately after his father's -departure, to find out where he had been taken to and what could be done -to further his release, so Agnes and Patience remained with Ann and -cheered her as best they could. Mistress Newbolt needed no cheering; -she busied herself arranging her husband's clothes, packing them to send -to his prison, wherever that might be, and she employed the maids in -taking off the lace ruffles from his shirts, replacing them with plain -linen ones. - -"He shall not appear before his judges like a popinjay," she said, "but -like a sober, righteous man." - -"Mother, you are wrong," said Ann. "He is a king's man now, and is -serving the king. Why will you try to show forth to the world that he -was ever aught else?" - -"Because it is my duty, my joy," she answered, and she would not be -gainsaid. - -"Do not trouble," said Patience to Ann. "Let her have her own way. You -can easily supplement what is lacking." - -The day seemed long to them all except to Mistress Newbolt, whose pale -face had a red spot on either cheek from the excitement of her heart. -Her muslin kerchief was crumpled, a thing Ann had never seen before, and -her hands trembled as she went about her work. - -Once Agnes crept on tiptoe to the small closet which Mistress Newbolt -called her own, where she was wont to read and pray. Opening the door -gently she looked in. The window was wide open, and Mistress Newbolt -stood before it grazing up into the sky, which was dark, threatening -rain; but sunshine or rain, storm or clouds, were naught to her, her -soul had soared beyond these earthly signs of fair weather or foul. Her -hands were clasped, her face was turned upwards as if she saw a vision, -and from her lips a quick flow of words poured forth so rapidly that -Agnes had difficulty in following them. - -It was more conversation than prayer, as if she were speaking to the -Almighty as to a familiar friend, thanking Him for having thus cast His -eye upon them, and chastening her husband for his sin. She prayed also -for Reginald and Ann, that they might be reclaimed and brought back into -the true fold. Then came an impassioned act of worship: - -"Glory be to Thee, oh Lord Most High!" and so on. - -Agnes stood transfixed. She had never heard the like before. It moved -her as if a great wave had swept over her. She listened, drinking in -the words with wonder and astonishment. - -"It must be even as the prophets of old spoke," she thought. "I wonder -if she is right and we all wrong;" and even as she was thus thinking -Mistress Newbolt turned round, saw her, came quickly, took her in her -arms, and almost carried her to the open window, crying in exultation: - -"Lord, behold this child! Make her Thine; teach her Thy ways; make her -worship Thee, the only true God, in truth and equity." - -So tight were her arms wound round her that Agnes could not move. She -held her as if she would have almost carried her up to heaven in her -exultation. Looking into her face it struck Agnes as strangely -beautiful; she had never seen it thus before. Her eyes were as coals of -fire; the lips parted as the impassioned words dropped from them. - -Suddenly the woman collapsed. She loosened her hold of Agnes, -staggered, and would have fallen had not the girl upheld her; but she -threw her off, and, casting herself on the ground, broke forth into -fierce weeping. The bands of iron which had bound her soul gave way and -she could only cry: - -"Save me, oh God, save me, for Thy mercy's sake!" - -With that delicate instinct which is inherent in some souls, Agnes felt -that this was no place for her, that she had no right to look upon the -weakness of this strong woman, and quietly, with tears pouring down her -face, she left the room, closing the door behind her. - -She paused for a moment on the landing, then, descending the stairs, -found her way into the little sitting-room, where Ann and Patience were -waiting for her. The discomposure of her face revealed to them at once -that something unusual had happened. - -"Have you seen my mother?" asked Ann, coming forward. - -"Oh, it is too terrible, too terrible!" said Agnes, her tears bursting -forth again, and, letting herself fall on the settle beside Patience, -she clung to her for protection. - -"What has happened, dear? tell me," said Patience softly. - -"Nothing has happened," was the quiet answer, "but her grief is terrible -to see." - -"I will go to her," said Ann, rising. - -"It is of no use," said Agnes, standing before her; "let her be. Her -soul is wrestling with the Lord; she wants no human help; we do not -understand her." - -"I know what you mean," said Ann, "I have seen her in that state before. -When my father declared that he would welcome King Charles and join -himself to the royal cause, she was three days and nights shut up in her -own room and would see no one; she would eat nothing but bread and -water, and we heard her pacing up and down, talking to herself, -apostrophizing the Almighty, praying aloud. Sometimes she would sing -psalms or hymns. As I tell you, she remained three days in this state, -and then she came forth haggard and thin, but quite calm. 'I have left -it in God's hands,' she said; 'what He doeth will be well done.' Go -home, dear friend," Ann continued. "You can give us no help, we must -await events. I do not think my father's life is in danger, but how -long he will be deprived of liberty, what his punishment will be, we -cannot tell until his trial, and that may be retarded for many months. -We were going to Newbolt Manor for a few weeks. Now, of course, we must -remain here. I am sorry, because my mother's health suffers from the -confinement in London, but I know nothing will move her hence so long as -my father is in prison." - -"Of course not," said Patience. "We shall also remain in town for the -present. The king has gone with his court to Hampton, and I do not care -to be there when that is the case, for there is no peace--the gardens -are full of gallants and fine ladies--so we will remain at Somerset -House until the king returns to town." - -"I am glad of it," said Ann; "it is a comfort to feel that you are near -me. We have many acquaintances, but few friends." - -"You must count us as friends," said Patience. - -"I will gladly do so," answered Ann. "I feel as if I have known you all -my life." - -"Therefore, if you have any fear, send for us," said Patience. "Now we -will bid you farewell." - -The distance between the Newbolts' house in Drury Lane and Somerset -House could be traversed in a few minutes, but nevertheless the streets -were by no means pleasant for women to walk through alone, therefore -Patience and Agnes had come in sedan-chairs, which were waiting in the -courtyard. These were now brought forward into the house, as was the -custom, and, taking a tender adieu of Ann, they got in and were carried -out. Agnes drew the curtain on one side, waved a last adieu, and then -Ann turned away and went up to the first story, where was her mother's -apartment. - -She was sad at heart, and felt at a loss as to how she should comfort -her, for she knew full well that there was no disguising the fact that -her father had been a prominent man under Cromwell, also that he had -commanded a body of horse at the late king's execution. One thing alone -was in his favour: his name was not on the list of those who had voted -for the king's death. - -It was late at night when Reginald returned. He had no good news. His -father, he had ascertained, was in Newgate, but he had not been able to -gain access to him. - -"I fear much," he said, "that there is a traitor somewhere, for why have -we been thus suddenly attacked? The king was quite aware from the first -that my father was a Parliamentarian; the only thing he did not know was -that he was present at the late king's death. It is upon this charge -that my father has been arrested. We cannot clear him; it is quite -hopeless; we can only trust to the king's clemency, and that," he -continued, "is of no great account. I am much afraid that I shall be -obliged to resign my commission, and thus, though I am blameless, I must -suffer, and the king will lose a good servant." - -"Do you think he will be arraigned for treason?" asked Ann. - -"No, that he cannot be," was the answer, "seeing that he was only -captain at that time of a body of horse. He obeyed orders, and he kept -the street clear in the precincts of Whitehall, but he was not actually -on the spot." - -"And though he has never allowed that it was so," said Ann, "in his -heart I believe he grieved that the execution was carried out." - -"His refraining from giving his vote was a proof of it," said Reginald. -"Where is our mother?" - -"In her own apartment," said Ann. "It is no use your trying to go to -her; she will see no one. Agnes was with her, and I think she -frightened the child; she has been very much excited all day. Martha -tells me she has gone to bed, which is proof that she has worn herself -out. She may be more composed to-morrow. You see, she considers our -father's arrest a retribution." - -"And she may not be quite wrong," said Reginald. "If he had only voted -against instead of keeping silent, he would have been not only safe from -molestation, but honourably revered." - -"That he could not do," said Ann. "I have heard him say that though he -disapproved of the king's execution, he did not see how otherwise order -and justice were to be restored, or the Civil War ended." - -"The whole thing is ineffably sad," said Reginald; "it is too late in -the day now to discuss the pros and cons. Go to bed, Ann, and sleep; -you will need all your strength and courage to face the next few -months." And so they bade each other good-night and parted. - -So worn out was Ann that her head was no sooner on the pillow than she -slept; but Reginald sat till an unusually late hour in the house-parlour -thinking matters over and trying to find out who could have betrayed his -father. - -He rose at last, and stretched himself, muttering, "It is folly and to -no purpose my seeking to find the man; there are so many witnesses of my -father's presence at Whitehall. We must abide by the results; but I -will see Sir Nicholas Crisp to-morrow, he has always been kindly -disposed towards me, and stands high in the king's esteem. He may -perchance speak a word in my father's favour." With this he also -retired to his chamber to await the events of the morrow. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *Old Newgate* - - -We have all read, and we all know by hearsay, how, till within the last -century, the prisons were worse than the lowest hovels. We know and -honour the men and women by whose influence humanity was brought to bear -upon them. What they must have been two centuries earlier passes all -imagination. - -We learn from old chronicles that as far back as 1218 the prison of -Newgate existed. It was built in the portal of the new gate of the -city, and from that fact took its name. Two centuries later it was -rebuilt by the executors of the famous Sir Richard Whittington, Lord -Mayor of London, and his statue with his cat stood in a niche. This -building was destroyed in the great fire of which we shall soon be -telling. It was here, in old Newgate, that Colonel Newbolt was -imprisoned--a noisome place, within high, dark, stone walls, without -windows, where the prisoners were crowded together irrespective of age -or sex. At the time we are writing of, it was crowded to excess. To -obtain a wisp of straw to lie upon at night, and the space necessary for -a litter, meant a hand-to-hand fight between the occupants. - -The jailers reaped a rich harvest, charging fabulous prices for the -merest necessaries. There was no provision made for sickness, not even -for the ordinary decencies of life; men and women of every class were -herded together. - -It is easy to imagine Colonel Newbolt's feelings when he was thrust into -this den. On the first day he bore it with a certain amount of -equanimity, feeling assured that he would be released on the morrow; but -when two or three days passed by, and all the money he had on his person -was expended, he was seriously disquieted, wondering why Reginald or -some other of his friends did not come to his rescue. He could not know -that Reginald had been daily at the prison, and had expended a -considerable sum of money in pleading with the jailers for news of his -father. He was dismissed with the assurance that his father's name was -not on the prison list; they could not find the man. - -This answer was given purposely. It would not have suited the jailers -to find their man too soon, for then the enquiry money would cease to -fall into their pockets, so they sent Reginald to Aldersgate and to -smaller jails, of which there were several. Four days had elapsed after -his father's arrest before Reginald was admitted into the prison and -allowed to interview him. - -He was horrified when he saw him. From a hale, fine-looking soldier he -had dwindled into an old man, with sunken eyes and haggard face. His -lace ruffles and jabot had been torn to shreds. He had had no change of -linen, the lappets of his coat had been wrenched away, his head was -bare, and his hair bleached. - -He staggered as he came into the guard-room, and in his impotent rage -shook his fist in Reginald's face. - -"What do you mean, sirrah," he cried, "by leaving me in this condition?" - -"Father, I did not leave you," said Reginald, tears gathering in his -eyes. "I have been here daily, and could get no news of you. They have -sent me about to the right and to the left; only to-day have I found -you." - -"The rascals!" said the colonel in a low voice, fearful of being -overheard. "I am starved, Reginald," he continued, "I am unclean. I -would sooner die than remain thus; ay, they will kill me before they -bring me to trial. Is this what the king promised us? Is this the royal -clemency?" - -"Hush, Father, hush!" said Reginald, for in his excitement he had raised -his voice. "I have brought gold; I will see what I can do for you." - -He looked round, and seeing a keeper whose face seemed less evil than -the others, he beckoned to him. - -Slowly and sullenly the man came forward. - -"Look here!" said Reginald, "if you can find the smallest cell in which -my father can be alone I will give you fifty crowns." - -"If you offered me a hundred I couldn't do it," said the man; "the place -is crowded from top to bottom, and more prisoners are coming in every -hour." - -"But surely there must be some place less horrible than the one I am now -in," said Colonel Newbolt. "I am herded with the scum of the earth. I -hear nothing but cursing and swearing all the live-long day and -throughout the night. I am covered with vermin. I will give thee a -hundred crowns, sirrah, if thou wilt get me out of this." - -The man thrust his hands into his pockets. A hundred crowns was an -offer he did not often get. - -"I am sick, sick unto death," continued the colonel. - -"Then I will report you to the head keeper," said the man quickly, "and -he will report you to the governor, and he will--I don't know what he'll -think proper to do." - -"In the meantime must I go back to that hell?" said the colonel. "Give -me a knife and let me cut my throat!" - -"We don't have that sort of thing done here," answered the jailer; "we -keep no knives and no ropes inside the jail." - -"Listen!" said Reginald. "Surely there must be some place, some cell in -which there are three or four privileged prisoners, where you could -manage to put my father until I take measures for his removal. Go at -once and speak to the head jailer." - -Saying this, Reginald put money into the man's hand. "Not a groat more -do you get," he said, "if you do not succeed, but I will double it if -you do." - -He turned away, and, taking his father by the arm, succeeded in finding -a seat in a far corner of the room. - -"See, Father, I have brought you food!" he said. He cut the strings of a -basket which he had been carrying and drew forth a pasty, some white -bread, and a flask of brandy. - -The prisoner flew at the brandy. Reginald was forced to stop him. - -"Gently, Father, gently," he said, "you will make yourself ill; there is -no hurry." And he handed him bread and meat, which he ate ravenously. - -The keepers, noting that the young man wore the king's uniform, and that -the old man, even in his soiled clothes, had an air of distinction, let -them be. Besides, Reginald was generous with his money; he knew there -was no other means by which to gain a little respite. - -When his father had eaten and drunk, more perhaps than was good for him, -he laid his head back on the wall and went to sleep. Reginald kept -watch over him. Once or twice the keepers came up and would have roused -him and sent him back to the common prison, but Reginald pleaded: - -"Let him be a little longer," he said; "I am waiting for a message from -the governor." Again money passed from hand to hand, and they were let -alone. - -Not till the day was far advanced did the first keeper return. - -"The governor will see you," he said; "follow me." - -Reginald looked at his father. If he roused him now would he be -sensible? - -"Father!" he said, bending over him. - -The colonel started and opened his eyes, but his mind seemed to be -wandering. He stood up, gave the word of command, as if he had been on -parade, then, looking round him, he said: "Where am I? What does it -mean?" - -"He is in delirium," said Reginald in a low voice to the keeper. "Take -hold of him on one side and I will take him on the other; the governor -can judge for himself." So they crossed the room, the old man muttering -and talking to himself, until they came to the governor's room. - -To Reginald's surprise, he proved to be an old friend of his father's, -who, however, had kept fairly quiet, and had not been in any way -offensive either to the Commonwealth or to the king's Government. It -was not in his power to remedy the state of the prison, and he had no -thought of attempting to do so. A prison was a prison in those days. -Prisoners, if refractory, were chained up like wild beasts and kept on -bread and water. They lived or died, as the case might be; some went -under at once, others, thanks to stronger constitutions, managed to -survive, until they were dragged on hurdles to execution, or by some -lucky chance found their way out of that prison-house, brutalized, -hating both God and man. - -When the governor, looking up, saw Reginald and his father, he said -shortly: - -"When I heard your name, I wondered what Newbolt it was. How happens it -that your father has let himself fall into this strait? I thought he -was a cleverer man." - -"There must be a traitor somewhere," said Reginald. "My father has -taken the oath of allegiance; he went with General Monk to meet the king -on his return. I, who have never drawn sword in any other cause, hold a -commission from the king in his own Guards. But some traitor has -informed his majesty of what, alas! is only too true, that my father was -captain of a body of troops who kept the streets at the time of the -execution of his most gracious majesty, Charles I--hence his arrest." - -"Ah, that is compromising!" said the governor. "Do you know who the -informant was?" - -"No, I do not," answered Reginald, "but I will make it my business to -find out. There is no denying the fact that my father was on duty that -day. He was arrested four days ago, and see what it has made of him! -He was a strong, hale man when he came here. I ask your clemency for -him." - -"It is a common case," said the governor. "The class of men to which -your father belongs cannot stand this place. I will do what I can. He -has caught jail fever. Put him in yonder chair." - -The keeper and Reginald obeyed, the old man talking and jabbering all -the time. - -Reginald stood before the governor, who continued: "You see, we cannot -put him back into the public room, and there is not a free cell. You -may believe me or not as you choose, the prison is literally swarming. -Knight," he said, addressing the keeper, "is there any hole you can give -the colonel to lie in until I can get him removed?" - -"There is the cell at the end of the right-hand corridor, where that -madman was confined; he died yesterday. His body was thrown out to-day, -but the cell has not been cleaned yet; it is not fit to put even a dog -into." - -"Let it be done immediately," said the governor. "Let fresh straw be -laid down and the colonel carried thither. I give him into your hands, -Knight. I think you will find it worth your while to treat him well," -he added, with a glance at Reginald. - -"I have promised him a hundred crowns; I do not care if I make it two -hundred," answered the young man. - -"Sir," said Knight, "I thank you. May I leave the gentleman here whilst -I see to the cleaning of that dog's kennel?" - -The governor nodded. - -Worn out, the colonel's head fell on his breast; he was in a sort of -coma. - -"I'll write a letter," said the governor, "which you may take to the -Secretary of State, or, if you prefer it, to the king himself. If you -can get an audience, that might be better. If your father is really to -be prosecuted, he must be removed from this prison to Aldersgate." - -"I do not think he will be removed anywhere except fro his last -resting-place," said Reginald. - -"Tut, tut! men do not die so easily," said the governor. "That is our -strong point. I will represent that if the colonel is left here he will -certainly die, and then who would pay the fine, which will be the least -thing imposed upon him? The king's exchequer, they say, is empty, and -there is nothing to be got out of a dead dog; therefore, you see, it is -to their interest to keep him alive. Rest assured they will nurse him -with the utmost tenderness, so that, if he be hanged, he may be hanged -alive, and his lands forfeited to the crown. If he dies now, you will -inherit; you have committed no misdemeanour. On the contrary, you are -the king's man, and they cannot, in all decency, prosecute you. Do you -understand?" - -"Yes, I understand," said Reginald, with evident disgust. "Write the -letter for me, sir, and I will carry it." - -The governor scrawled a few lines, folded it, and gave it to Reginald. - -"I think you will find that serve your purpose," he said. - -"May I send clean linen and clothes for my father?" asked Reginald. "He -cannot remain as he is." - -"I should advise you to send nothing, but to bring everything," said the -governor; "otherwise I greatly fear he will not benefit much. This is a -den of thieves and robbers." - -Reginald hesitated for a moment, then he said: - -"And my mother! When she knows I have found my father, nothing will -keep her away." - -The governor shrugged his shoulders. - -"Then you must bring her, that is all," he said. "Knight will let you in -the back way. Your father will not be so bad to look at when he is in -his new cell. Now you must be gone; I have given you more time, young -man, than I have favoured anyone with for months. Look through that -window in the wall and you will see the crowd waiting to interview me." - -"I am more than grateful to you, sir," said Reginald. - -"All right, all right!" answered the governor, holding out his hand. -"We will try to pull him through; not that it will be easy, I warn you." - -"I fear not," answered Reginald; "nevertheless I thank you, sir," and, -bowing to the governor, he turned round to where his father still sat in -a deep, heavy slumber: his face was crimson, his hands, as Reginald felt -them, were burning. - -"I have cleaned the place up as best I could, sir. Shall we take him -there at once?" said Knight, coming up. - -"Yes," said Reginald shortly; and between them they carried the colonel -down two or three long passages, lined on either side with cells. At -the very end there was an open door, showing a cell of about eight feet -square. Upon the ground in one corner was a heap of straw, which, with -a table and a chair, both riveted to the wall, and a basin, completed -the furniture. - -"I found this here thing in the corner of the public room where the -gentleman has been lying. I don't know how it has escaped the eyes of -his late companions, but it has. I got it and brought it here. He will -want it," said Knight. - -Reginald recognized his father's cloak, so they wrapped him up in it and -laid him in the straw which was strewn on the damp floor. - -"Look here, man," said Reginald, "I must go. I have pressing business. -Here are the hundred crowns I promised you, and for every week he stays -here and you care for him decently, you shall have as much again. I -shall be back in a couple of hours with sheets and bedding, and all that -is necessary for his comfort. You must fetch the doctor, and whatever -he orders that you must provide." - -"Very good, sir, I understand," said Knight. "But I have other duties, -you know; I cannot be always here." - -"Pass them over to someone else. I'll pay, as paying is the order of -the day. Do you agree?" - -"I should be a fool not to," answered Knight. "I'll see to the old man; -you shall have nothing to complain of." And with that half-promise -Reginald was obliged to be satisfied. With one more look at his father -he went out. - -Knight followed him, closing and locking the door. - -"You will lose your way unless I take you out," he said to Reginald. -"You had better not come in at the front gate in future." - -So saying he guided him into a small courtyard, which was evidently -seldom used. In it was a huge mastiff, which walked to and fro, -snarling and growling. He sprang forward to meet the two men, and would -have flown at Reginald if Knight had not caught him by the collar. - -"Speak to him, caress him, then in future he will never hurt you," he -said. "When you come back, bring him food; you must be friends." - -Reginald had a great liking for all animals. He spoke to the mastiff, -which, after a few minutes' inspection, sniffed around, and suffered him -to stroke him. - -"That's all right," said Knight, satisfied. - -Taking a key off a bunch at his side he opened a side gate, and Reginald -passed out into the street opposite the Old Bailey. - -"You have only to ring that bell when you return," he said, pointing to -a long iron chain by the door. "I shall answer." - -Reginald nodded, and went forth with a heavy heart, feeling as if years -had passed over his head since he penetrated within the mighty walls -which separated the prison of Newgate and its inmates from the outside -world. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *A Legend* - - -When Reginald returned to his mother he found her waiting impatiently -for him; indeed, she had done so for the last three days. Her whole -time had been spent between prayer and waiting, seated in the window -with her hands folded. - -In the morning she attended to her household duties--she forgot nothing. -It was with difficulty that they could get her to take any food; she -seemed to have no need of it. Now, when she saw Reginald coming up the -street, she said to Ann: - -"He has news--he has found your father." And she went to the door to -meet him. - -"Well?" she asked. - -"Yes, I have found him," said Reginald; "but you must not rejoice too -soon, Mother, for he is in a terrible condition." - -"Dying?" she asked. - -"I cannot say, for I do not know," answered Reginald. "He is very -ill--his sufferings have been great, and he is now delirious. I saw the -governor, and he had him removed to a cell by himself. He is in want of -everything. There are no rules to prevent our taking anything we choose -to him." - -"And I may go to him?" she asked. - -"Yes, you may go to him, but Ann must not," said Reginald; "the place -reeks of fever, small-pox, and every other disease. You must be -prepared for the worst, Mother." - -"Whatever the Lord orders is for the best," she answered. - -"But what is to become of Ann? She cannot remain in this house alone," -said Reginald. - -"Take her to Patience," said Mistress Newbolt. "She can abide with her -all day, and at night when I return you can fetch her--if I do return." - -"At sunset you must leave the prison, Mother; it is the rule." - -"Very well," said Mistress Newbolt, "I will abide by the rule. Now -order a coach; I have everything ready." - -"I am afraid not everything," said Reginald. "He lacks bedding, sheets, -the veriest necessaries. I left him lying on straw in a damp cell. I -will order a cart to come round to take the larger luggage, but you must -go in a coach." - -"I can walk if necessary," said Mistress Newbolt; "it is no great -distance." - -Two hours were spent putting things together, providing food, broths, -and jellies. Ann went about with her mother, thinking of everything. -When all was ready and the coach was called, she said to Reginald: - -"Shall I not be allowed to go?" - -"No, it is not a fit place for you," said Reginald; "and you would do no -good. I don't know when I shall return myself, therefore you had better -get your women to take you to Somerset House. You can tell them how -matters stand, and I shall probably fetch you at nightfall, or when my -mother comes back." - -Whilst they were still conversing, Mr. Delarry came up. It was by no -means the first time he had come to the house--indeed, he and Reginald -were very good friends, and he would frequently drop in to supper--but -he had been away with the king at Hampton Court, and had only just heard -of the colonel's arrest. - -"I am deeply grieved for you," he said, "and I hastened here to tell you -so. Is there anything I can do for you?" - -"Nothing at present," said Reginald. "I have been three days finding my -father, and now he is sick unto death; I do not know whether he will -live. I am taking my mother to him. I have no time to say more, so -farewell!" - -Mistress Newbolt appeared on the steps, and Reginald hastened to help -her into the coach. Many of the servants had followed her, and were -weeping. Although she was a stern mistress, she was a just one, and they -all respected her. - -"Delarry," said Reginald, before following his mother into the coach, -"will you see my sister to Somerset House? She cannot stay here alone, -and neither my mother nor myself can be back before nightfall." - -"If she will allow me to do so, I shall esteem it a favour," said -Delarry. "And, Reginald, let me know if I can be of any use to you; I -am at your service." - -"Many thanks!" said Reginald. "It is something to feel that one has a -friend in these hard times." The two young men shook hands, Reginald -took his place beside his mother, and they drove away. Ann went slowly -back to the house, Delarry following her. - -"Shall you go at once to Somerset House?" he asked. - -"In about an hour," she answered. "I must put my mother's room in -order, and attend to a few household duties. But do not let me detain -you; my own woman will accompany me." - -"You would not grieve me thus?" said Delarry. "I esteem it a high honour -to have been asked to take care of you." - -"Very well," said Ann, "come back in an hour, and I will be ready." - -He did so, and accompanied her the short distance from Drury Lane to -Somerset House. They made no haste, for they liked each other's -society. - -When they reached Somerset House they found Patience and Agnes on the -terrace taking their mid-day airing. - -"We did not venture to come to your house," said Patience, after -greeting Ann and her companion, "for fear of disturbing your mother. We -felt sure if you had news that you would send us word." - -"We have news," said Ann, "but it is of such an evil kind that the -telling of it is grievous to me." - -"Still we must hear it," said Patience. - -They sat down on the bench facing the river, and there Ann told them all -she knew. - -"It is a very terrible state of affairs," said Delarry, looking serious; -but he did not venture to say how serious he thought it, for he knew -full well that the king was still very bitter against anyone who had had -a hand in his father's murder. Nevertheless he tried to speak -cheerfully. - -"It will be better," he said, "for Reginald to go to the king himself. -He is rather partial to the young man; indeed, only the other day he -asked why he was not in attendance. He then learnt of the arrest of -Colonel Newbolt, and expressed his regret that the son should have to -suffer for the father." - -Ann coloured. "That means that Reginald will have to resign his -commission," she said. - -"I am afraid so," answered Delarry. "It would hardly do, when his -father is imprisoned for connivance with the regicides, for him to -remain in the king's service. But we cannot tell. Charles is a strange -character; he may not choose to accept your brother's resignation." - -"It was not Colonel Newbolt's fault that he was on duty on that day at -that place," said Agnes. - -"No," said Delarry, "that was a coincidence, but still the fact is -there." - -"Don't let us talk about it," said Ann; "it will not mend matters." - -"My friend is right," said Agnes. "We will talk of other things. Is -there any news from France, Mr. Delarry?" - -"Yes, the king heard from her majesty the queen no later than yesterday. -The marriage of the duke and the princess is to be the occasion of great -festivities; it is to be conducted with royal state. The King of France -is making much of the bride." - -"I wish I were in Paris," said Agnes; "I know just how it will all be. -I think I like Paris better than London." - -"Oh no, you don't!" said Ann. "You must not. You are an English girl, -and must love your own country best." - -"So she will in years to come," said Patience. "There is so much in -habit. She has always lived in France. The sun shines more brightly -there, and the days are longer." - -"And people are less stiff, and they are kinder and more courteous," -said Agnes. "You English are so cold! I have lived a long time here -now, and I have only one friend--that is you, Ann." - -"And is it not a grand thing to _have one friend_?" said Mr. Delarry. -"We may have many acquaintances, little lady, but a friend is a rare -gem." - -Having said this, Mr. Delarry rose and took his leave. - -Patience and the two girls went up to their own apartment, and occupied -themselves at that fine tapestry work at which Agnes, like all French -ladies, was an adept. Ann was not so clever with her needle, but she -loved to watch her friend, whose proficiency was astonishing; the -flowers, the birds, the figures, seemed to grow under her fingers. - -"I wish I could work as you do," she said. - -"I love it," answered Agnes; "it makes me forget. When I have any -trouble or any vexation I come to my framework and create a bird, or a -flower. Sometimes I dream dreams. It does not matter what I do, but I -grow quieter and happier." - -"You are a town girl, and I am a country girl," said Ann. "I have lived -all my life in the open, in the midst of the flowers and the birds, with -my dogs and horses, riding and hunting with Reginald and my father over -miles of moorland. Oh, it is glorious! Would you not love it?" - -Agnes looked up. "Love it? Indeed I am sure I should!" she answered. -"Patience said just now we grow accustomed to things; that is true. I -was accustomed to the great dark rooms at the Louvre, and the long dull -days; but sometimes, I remember, I used to feel suffocated, as if I were -a bird beating against the bars of the cage. I used to look up through -the windows at the sky, and long--oh, how I used to long!--to have wings -to fly away." - -"And yet you say you like France better than England," said Ann. - -"I knew of nothing better," said Agnes. "I loved the queen and I loved -Henrietta, but still I have always known that it was not my own life, -that there must be something better! We used to go to Fontainebleau -sometimes, but we children never went beyond the edge of the wood. We -were allowed to wander in the great gardens, which were very beautiful, -with long avenues of trees and a big pond full of tame carp, which came -when we called them, and which we used to feed. It was a great -pleasure, but still it was not liberty. I longed for liberty, to ride, -to walk, as the desire might come to me. Ah, you are very happy!" she -said to Ann. "Tell me about that place up north of which you speak so -often." - -"Newbolt Manor?" answered Ann. "It is the most beautiful place in the -world. Long, long ago it was a monastery, and belonged to a religious -order. There are the ruins of the most lovely chapel you ever saw; and -although the house has been restored and rebuilt, there are still parts -of it which belong to the old days--the great hall, the refectory, and -the library. They are very beautiful, with much carved oak and many -stained-glass windows." - -"And it belonged to the De Lisles!" said Agnes thoughtfully. - -"Yes," answered her companion, "and there is a long picture-gallery -containing portraits of the family of De Lisles; and now I come to think -of it, Agnes, there is one picture of a child who lived a long time -ago--oh! a hundred years ago, perhaps. You are exactly like her; is it -not strange?" - -"Very," said Agnes. "Go on and tell me more." - -"Well," said Ann, "the story is that when the monks were driven out, -King Henry VIII gave it to a certain Reginald De Lisle." - -"How did that old man at Greenwich know anything; about them, I wonder?" -said Agnes. "How did he know the De Lisles?" - -"That I cannot tell," said Ann. "He may have been an old servant, and -have known the legend that the De Lisles, being possessed of church -lands, would be driven out." - -"It has come true," said Agnes. - -"Only to a certain extent," said Ann. "They were not driven out, they -died out; the race is extinct." - -"How then can they come back again?" asked Agnes. "You know he said -they would." - -"Ah! that I cannot tell," answered Ann. "If he were an old servant of -the De Lisles, the wish might very possibly be father to the thought." - -"But," said Agnes thoughtfully, "supposing it were a mistake, and that -one day a De Lisle should turn up and claim his own?" - -"I do not suppose it would make much difference now," said Ann. "The -land is ours as far as lawyers and parchment can make it so." - -"You would be sorry to lose it," said Agnes. - -"Yes, I should," answered Ann. "I love the place, and I would like to -think that Reginald would have it one day, and that he would marry and -have children; and so it would go down from generation to generation, a -fair heritage." - -"As it was with the De Lisles," said Agnes thoughtfully. "Ah well!" she -added, "it does not much matter; the world passeth away, and the glory -of it." - -Instinctively the words had come to her lips--how they did so she knew -not--it was the inspiration of a moment. She had dropped her needle -whilst listening to Ann, and there was a strange, dreamy look in the -great dark eyes as she gazed through the window up to the sky which -overhung the river. The summer day had come to a close; she could no -longer see to put her stitches into the canvas. A sense of unreality -crept over her, a sort of feeling as if she had lived in another world -once upon a time--she was, and she was not--a spell seemed laid upon -her. Would she awake and find her present life only a dream? - -Patience's voice roused her. - -"Ann Newbolt," she said, "a messenger has come from your brother. -Neither he nor your mother can return to-night. He requests me to keep -you with us." - -"My father is dying, then?" said Ann. - -"The messenger does not say so," answered Patience, "merely that they -cannot leave the prison." - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *A Brave Woman* - - -Sooner or later we all find a place which fits us in the world, and when -Mistress Newbolt crossed the threshold of Newgate to take charge of her -husband, unwittingly, even to herself, she had reached her bourne. She -did not know it, she did not realize it till long after; but her work -had found her, and she was not one of those who, having put her hand to -the plough, would turn back again. - -An ordinary woman would have shrunk from the misery which surrounded -her, but she never did. All the sorrow, the discontent, which so often -troubled her, ceased to be as she stood beside her husband in that -narrow cell. With strong hands, helped by Reginald, she arranged his -bed; she spoke to him, she comforted him; even in his delirium he knew -her and clung to her. That he was desperately ill she saw at a glance, -but even the doctor, a rough, hard man, when he came to visit him, grew -soft in Mistress Newbolt's presence. - -"Madam," he said, "I cannot tell whether he will live or die. His life -is in your hands." - -"Not in mine," said Mistress Newbolt, "but in God's." - -"We do not hear much of God here," said the doctor roughly. "It is -verily a God-forsaken place; but your presence is potent, your care may -save him." - -"I can only stay here a few hours," she answered, "at least, so I am -told. I will do what I can." - -"You may stay here as long as you choose," said the doctor. "I will -speak to the governor." - -And so it came to pass that Mistress Newbolt was established at Newgate. -That first night her husband was seized with such violent delirium that -it required two men to hold him down. - -Reginald therefore remained till early morning, when, exhausted, the -patient dropped into a deep sleep. Then his mother bade him go and -rest. - -"You have your duties to attend to; you have Ann to see after," she -said. "I am sufficient here." - -"Will you not be afraid to remain here alone, Mother?" asked Reginald. - -"Afraid!" she answered, "of what? Is not God with me?" And that -strangely inspired look came into her face. "I feel as if my place were -here, as if at last I had found my appointed task. Go, and do not -trouble about me or your father." - -Reginald kissed her hand. - -"You are wonderful, Mother," he said. "I will return this evening -before the prison gates close." And so he left her. - -As Mistress Newbolt stood in the passage she heard cries and moans, loud -voices, and bitter plaints. - -"Are those the prisoners?" she asked of Knight, the jailer. - -"Yes," he answered, "they are hungry dogs to-day. They declared that -the morning allowance of food was insufficient. There was not a hunch -of bread for each man, and it was sour, not fit to cast to the dogs." - -"How was it so?" asked Mistress Newbolt. - -The keeper shrugged his shoulders. - -"How can I tell?" he said. "It is bought by contract. As we get it we -give it them. Those who have no money of their own, and no friends, -come badly off. Your husband is sleeping, will you come and look at -them?" - -Mistress Newbolt acquiesced. - -He took her down the passage to a great iron door, in which there was a -sliding panel, not large, but large enough to allow an outsider to look -into the interior. The keeper drew back the panel, and shrill voices -fell upon her ears, uttering curses and foul language. She saw men and -women with scarce any semblance of humanity, rather like wild beasts. -Some were tearing at hard crusts of bread, others at meat of the worst -kind; men belaboured the women and thrust them back, snatching the food -out of their thin hands. And they in their turn clutched at them and -tore their hair, scratching their faces in their madness. One or two -had infants in their arms, parodies of childhood. - -"It is terrible!" said Mistress Newbolt, her pale face paling. - -"Here is gold," she said to the keeper; "go fetch me food! I will give -it them. And look you," she continued, "that you are just, and bring me -full measure for the money." - -Her stern eyes stared straight into Knight's, and he, as if affrighted, -looked away; nevertheless he took the gold and departed to do her -bidding. - -Mistress Newbolt faced the opening again and called out, "Peace, peace!" - -Her words were received with a loud yell. - -"Peace? There is no peace here." - -"Peace, peace, God's peace be with you!" she continued; and then in a -loud voice, which rose above the turmoil, she began: - -"Our Father which art in heaven." - -Shrieks of mockery greeted her words. - -"He who would have bread let him pray for it," she cried out. "Surely -it will come to him who asketh." - -A loud voice greeted her words. - -"We have asked, and they have given us stones for bread," said a gaunt -man. - -"Because ye have asked amiss," she answered. "Down on your knees and I -will pray for you." - -A moment's hesitation, then there was dead silence, and that crowd fell -down as if moved by some invisible power. - -"Repeat what I say, after me," she cried. "Our Father." - -And so through that blessed prayer, the like of which there is none -other, these poor wretches, the outcast of the earth, followed her, -repeating the words, some with sobs, some still cursing between the -words. - -As the Amen died out, Knight stood beside her. - -"Open the gate and let me in to them," she said, "and then do as I bid -you." - -She took a great white loaf from the basket he had brought. - -"There are more coming," he said in a low voice; "this is not all your -bounty gives." - -"A knife," she said. "I will break each loaf in four. Open the gate," -she continued, "and I will go in and feed them myself." - -"They will tear you to pieces," said Knight. - -"No they will not," she answered; and she stood erect as one inspired. - -The jailer took the bunch of keys from his side, unlocked the door, and -she passed in. - -In a second she was surrounded. - -"The bread, the bread we have prayed for!" they cried. - -"It is coming," she answered; and she took the lumps of bread which -Knight handed her. Quickly they were snatched from her. - -Suddenly she stopped, for she saw that the men in their greed were -thrusting the women back, and fighting their way towards her. - -"Cowards!" she cried, "stand back! The women and the children. Have -you nothing human left in you? Shame! Shame!" - -There was a deep growl of anger, but slowly the men fell back, and the -women rushed forward, kneeling at her feet, kissing her hands. Their -souls were touched, and she, stooping over them, bade them rise, and -gave them food. She took one child in her arms and fed it with her own -hands. - -"Water!" they called out, "water!" And they showed her a pitcher filled -with a foul liquid. - -"Water, bring water!" she repeated; and the keepers brought it as they -would have brought it at an angel's word. - -She held the jars to the parched, thirsty lips, and they drank, all -those who could get near enough; but it was not enough, there were so -many. - -"That is all," she said at last. "I have no more; but to-morrow I will -come back and feed you again; only be human and know there is a God who -careth for you. Ye have sinned, but He will pardon you if you repent. -He suffered, though He was sinless, and you are sinners. It is but just -that you should suffer for your sins. Listen to what the psalmist of -Israel sang." In a loud, clear voice she recited the 77th Psalm: - -"'I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice, and he -gave ear unto me'," and so on to the end. - -Where there had been such an uproar there was now a grave stillness, -save for the groans of the men and the weeping of the women. She stood -with the half-naked child still in her arms, and looked down upon the -people, her tall figure resting against the unclean wall of that -prison-house. Her voice was steady; her eyes had in them that strangely -luminous look of inspiration. - -When she had finished she gave the child back to its mother. - -"If they will let me, I will come to you to-morrow," she repeated, "and -so each day. Only be patient, and the Lord will be with you." - -As she spoke she backed out of the cell, and disappeared from their -sight. - -The keepers told the governor they had never had such a quiet day; the -prisoners seemed subdued. They took their portions of food at night and -hardly murmured. There were many brutes amongst those men, and many -shameless women, but their passions were curbed and their evil tongues -silenced. - -Mistress Newbolt went back to her husband and tended him all that day, -praying beside him with such earnestness, and with such impassioned -eloquence that the warders came and stood at the door of the cell and -listened. There was not one of them who would not gladly serve her; she -might ask what she would of them, they did it. - -The governor, hearing what she had done, though knowing it to be against -the rules, said: - -"Let her do what she will for the poor wretches!" - -And so every morning for ten long days she went in to them. Some passed -away, but the greater number remained. Every day she added something to -her bounty: she gave the women cloths and brooms, and bade them try to -keep some order and cleanliness in the cells; but it was impossible, and -she soon recognized it was so. - -Some days she would repeat a few verses from the Bible to them, and they -would listen. Her heart would be glad then, thinking she had won them, -but on the morrow there would be fresh cursing, swearing, and -evil-speaking. Still, she never wearied. She brought fresh water and -clean linen, and dressed their wounds; she brought milk for the little -children; she spent herself and her wealth for these outcasts. They grew -to look upon her coming as the one thing in the twenty-four hours for -which they lived. - -"Our mother's coming," they told one another, as the hour approached, -and like children they watched for her. - -It was wonderful how her strength stood it all--those long days and -nights at her husband's pallet, and the horror of her surroundings. - -The order came at last that her husband should be removed to Aldersgate -to await his trial. The class of prisoners there was of a higher -degree, and the prison was less crowded. But the order came too late; -they could not move him. - -"He will die on the way," the doctor said; "he must die, therefore let -him remain here in peace." - -When she was not tending the prisoners or waiting on her husband she was -praying, this marvellous woman, in whom verily the blood of martyrs must -have flowed. She grew gaunter and gaunter, but there came into her face -a look of enthusiasm, as if she no longer belonged to this world, but to -the heaven of which she spoke. - -"If Ann is to see my father alive, I must bring her soon, Mother," said -Reginald, on the eighteenth day of the colonel's illness. - -"He will not die until the twenty-first," she answered. - -On the morning of the twenty-first it was evident that he was sinking, -that he would not outlive the day, and so Reginald went for Ann and -brought her to the prison. He had told her something of their mother's -doings, but it was difficult for anyone who did not see it to know what -that prison life was, and Ann was spared the horror. In the cell where -her father lay dying everything was spotless. There was scarcely -standing room for two or three people, but the door was left open; there -was no fear of his escaping--the spirit would go, but the shell would -remain, until it was given back to earth. Man could not hurt him; he -need not fear being called to any earthly judgment. - -So changed was he that Ann hardly knew him. If she had not known he was -her father she would not have recognized him. Looking at her mother, -she saw it was the same with her. - -"Can this be my father," she thought, "by whose side I have ridden over -moor and fell, whose voice was so strong to command, whose presence was -so good?" And then, looking at her mother, she grew faint with fear. - -There was something unearthly in Mistress Newbolt's appearance: her tall -figure had grown supernaturally thin, her hands and face were -transparent in their whiteness, her eyes shone with kind and tender -pity--they were no longer cold and hard as they had been. - -When Ann, overcome with grief, sank by her father's bedside and sobbed -out her sorrow, she felt her mother's hand on her head, and her voice -whispering: - -"Nay, my child, do not weep; it is well with him. We have prayed -together, he and I, when God has vouchsafed to him short glimpses of -reason, and I am persuaded that his soul is safe in the hands of his -Maker. Do not trouble; it is well with him." - -Then she knelt beside her and poured forth her soul in prayer. It was -wonderful to hear her; she was as one inspired; the words flowed forth -in a stream of unbroken eloquence. The warders, the keepers, the women -of the prison, all gathered round to hear her, and many having come to -mock, remained to pray. Throughout the day this went on. - -Towards evening Reginald came to take Ann away. Suddenly life seemed to -come back to the dying man. He sat up; they put pillows behind him. He -looked around him, and seeing Ann and Reginald, beckoned them to come to -him. Laying his hands on their heads, he blessed them. - -"I have one desire," he said. "I have loved lands, and wealth, and all -the good things of this world; now I know they are of no value at all. -I charge you two to discover if there be any child, kith or kin, of -those who possessed Newbolt Manor before it came into my hands. If so, -give it back to them; if not, then do as the disciples of old--succour -the poor, make a home for the destitute, let the wealth go back to God -who gave it. You will remember?" - -"I will remember, Father," said Reginald; "have no fear." - -Colonel Newbolt sank back on his pillows as if content, and quietly, -without an effort, as if he were falling asleep, passed away. - -His wife rose from her knees and covered his face. At a sign from her -all those present left the cell, except her children. They remained -with her until the last offices for the dead had been accomplished, -then, at her command, hand in hand they went forth; she remaining alone -to keep watch beside him who had been her husband. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *A Faithful Friend* - - -In the life of every one of us, from the cradle to the grave, there are -landmarks. The child's first tooth, its first step as it half tumbles -across the floor into its mother's arms, the first word from the baby's -lips, are stages in the child's life and in the mother's heart. So it -goes on imperceptibly--the child, the youth, the man, school and -college; these come to all. But there are waves which sweep over each -individual soul, casting it ashore; a master wave, drawing us into the -great sea of destiny. - -The death of Colonel Newbolt changed the current of more lives than one. -Ann had adored her father, and when Reginald took her forth out of that -prison-house where he lay dead, she was as one stunned. How great the -change in her life was to be she did not then conceive, for in the first -hour of a _great_ sorrow, that sorrow alone holds us. - -Ann went back to Somerset House, and Patience and Agnes tried to comfort -her; but on the morrow Reginald fetched her, and she went home to her -mother. - -Then a strange thing happened. One morning, as Patience and Agnes sat -at work, a commissioner came and informed them that the king had given -orders that the queen's apartments, and, in fact, the whole of Somerset -House, was to be put under repair. This was to be done quickly because -of the king's marriage and the return of her majesty, the queen dowager. -"Therefore", he said, "the king desires that you should remove to -Hampton Court, to the apartments he has given you there." - -Patience listened in silence, and when the messenger had departed she -went and shut herself into her own room and did not appear till -supper-time, much to Agnes's astonishment, for she had never before been -left so many hours alone. The first words she spoke startled Agnes. - -"You heard the order for us to leave this house and go to Hampton -Court," she began. "Well, I will not obey, because I do not choose that -you should live in the midst of the king's court. I find," she -continued, "that with great economy, and by living in some quiet country -village, I have money enough to keep us for two or three years. Will -you be content to live thus?" - -"I shall be glad to do so," said Agnes. "Ever since we were at -Greenwich my heart has yearned for a country life. I told you a long -time ago I was tired of courts. Take me where you will, Patience, as -far out of the world as it pleases you. Of course, Ann and Reginald -will know where we go?" she added. - -"No," said Patience, "nobody must know. I am taking you where it would -be a danger for you to be known." - -Agnes's face fell. "But I love my friends," she said, "and would not be -wholly parted from them." - -"For the present you must be," said Patience. "What the future holds in -store for you I cannot tell. May the Lord guide our footsteps in the -right way!" - -When Reginald called the next day to ask them to come to his mother and -Ann, they were gone--no one could tell where, no one knew. They had -left soon after dawn, taking Martha with them, also Rolfe, a -north-country man who had accompanied Patience to France many years -before. Evidently Patience had judged these two to be fitting persons -to serve them, to be trusted. - -Sad at heart, Reginald returned and told his mother what had happened. - -"I am sorry," she said. "I was going to ask Patience to take charge of -Ann, because this night I had a call--I heard voices and I saw visions. -The spirit of the Lord bids me forsake the world and serve Him only. -Nothing must hinder me, and yet Ann stands in my way; she is there -before me, blocking my path. What can I do with her? The Lord calls me -and I must go. Within those prison gates my work lies; my work is the -saving of the souls which He has given into my hands." - -"But, Mother," said Reginald, "what can you do for so many?" - -"Do!" she answered. "I will feed their bodies and souls; I will teach -them and I will preach to them, if perchance I may save but one soul -alive." - -"And who will care for you, Mother?" asked Ann. - -"The Lord," answered Mistress Newbolt, "He will care for me." - -Tears were pouring down Ann's face. - -"Ah, Mother, you will surely need someone," she said. "I will tend you, -I will love you, I will care for you; my heart tells me this is my work. -We will leave this great house. We will take just two rooms without the -prison gates; you can do your work and I will do mine. When you are -weary you can rest, and I will tend you. Shall it not be so, Reginald?" -And she turned to her brother. - -"Ann speaks wisely, Mother," said Reginald. "Let her remain with you." - -"I will not hinder you, Mother," said Ann; "I will help you. To Newbolt -we cannot go, because you know my father has willed that we should not -dwell there." - -"In any case," said Reginald, "I doubt if we shall keep it long. The -king's greed is great; he would not have suffered us to remain. -Doubtless, now that my father is dead, he will take it in payment for -the fine which would have been imposed." - -"Then sell it at once, and give the money to my poor," said his mother. - -"If I can," answered Reginald; "but I doubt if that be possible. For -myself, I shall go abroad. Surely better days will dawn ere long!" - -He might well say this, he might well hope this. Throughout England and -Scotland a religious persecution was waging: the Act of Uniformity was -passed. Against the Independents and the Presbyterians the utmost -rigour of the law was enforced; the prisons were filled with -nonconformist ministers and their people. Many compared this time to -the great St. Bartholomew massacre of the Huguenots. And what was still -more grievous to all righteous souls, the court was a hideous place, -full of evil-doings, grieving those who retained still the faintest -semblance of morality. - -The marriage of the king did not improve the state of things; indeed, it -made matters worse, for the misery endured by the young queen, Catherine -of Braganza, was very great. She was left in solitude, her own -country-people were taken away from her, and she was forced to consort -with the king's friends, who, for the most part, were distasteful to -her. - -All the ideal dreams which Reginald and Ann had dreamt fell crumbling to -the ground. They looked back with something almost of regret to the -days of Cromwell's rule, when the strictest observance of religious duty -and of virtue was at least commended. Their hearts were sore within -them. How would it end? There seemed much trouble in the future for -both of them. - -"If only a war would break out I would volunteer," said Reginald. "I -will not stay at home. If I cannot serve my king at home, I will serve -my country by sea or by land." - -"And I will serve my mother," said Ann; and timidly, because she feared -her, and yet fondly, because she knew she was her mother, Ann threw her -arms round her neck and whispered softly in her ears: - -"Where thou goest I will go; thy God shall be my God." - -Mistress Newbolt did not return the caress, she merely answered: - -"It is the will of the Lord. Thou shalt abide with me." - -That same day she dismissed all her servants, acting justly by them, -even kindly, for she gave them their full wages and something over; then -she and Ann went together into the city, and found two or three rooms at -the top of a house in the Old Bailey. - -Ann, who had been accustomed to open air and freedom, wondered how she -would live there; but she did not oppose her mother. On the contrary, -she fell in with her views, and for the next day or two they were busy -moving what furniture was necessary from the great house to the poor -lodging. Ann thought of many things, and her activity was very great. -She piled up the linen, she took all she imagined could possibly be for -their comfort; but her heart sank as she went up those narrow stairs, -meeting ever and again strange faces of men and women such as she had -never looked on before. To her it was an ugly life: would anything make -it beautiful? She never thought of that; she only knew she had to live -in the midst of it, and she prayed for strength to do her duty. - -Sometimes for days together she never saw her mother. She wondered -where she was, until at last Reginald told her that the governor had -sent for her. It came to pass that when Mistress Newbolt ceased to go -amongst the prisoners they had become insubordinate and had clamoured -for her. Therefore the governor besought her to renew her work amongst -them, for it meant a certain amount of peace, which no one else could -secure, and she answered him: - -"I was waiting for your call, sir; God told me it would come. I am -ready." - -So Ann was left alone in the upper part of the strange house, with only -an old woman whom she had taken to help her in the work, for her mother -would have no servants. The old woman lived in the same house in a -garret, and she had no belongings. The neighbours said that in winter -time she was well-nigh starving, but in the summer she hawked flowers in -the street, and sometimes fruit. - -"You will do that no longer," said Ann. "I will feed you, and you will -do the rough work for me while my mother is out." - -Thus it was arranged. At first Ann would send her marketing--she was -herself afraid of being alone in the streets--but gradually, as she grew -familiar with her new life, she ceased to do this, and went out herself -to make her purchases. The air did her good, and, as her mother gave -her but little money, she had to be economical. - -One day, as she and Reginald were walking down Drury Lane, she asked: -"Where has all our father's fortune gone?" - -"Our mother is spending it," he answered. "There are the rents of -Newbolt Manor; she gets them all. I went to see our lawyer the other -day. He told me that by my father's will everything went to our mother, -unconditionally. She is mistress of everything; we are dependent upon -her." - -"It is not right," said Ann; "we shall be beggars." - -"I am afraid we shall," said Reginald, "but it cannot be helped. You -will care for our mother; I, as best I can, will care for you both; but -the glory is gone out of my life." - -"Tut, tut!" said a man's voice, and a hand came down heavily on -Reginald's shoulder. - -He turned sharply, put his hand to his hat, exclaiming: "My Lord -Craven!" - -"I was coming on behind you, and I heard you say that wicked thing, that -the glory was gone out of your life," said Lord Craven, "and you but a -lad still. You are starting in life, and because you have one -disappointment your heart fails you. Is that being a man? Turn in with -me, and we will speak together. I am no longer young, and verily the -glory has departed out of my life." And his quaint face, neither old -nor young, grew very sad. - -Lord Craven had been all his life the champion of the Protestant -religion throughout Europe, and the acknowledged knight of that -beautiful but unfortunate queen, Elizabeth Stuart of Bohemia, aunt of -Charles II. The queen had come to London, and had lived a few months at -Lord Craven's house in Drury Lane. She had died in the early spring, -and so a life-long service had come to an end, and disappointment and -ingratitude were to be his reward. - -This is the romance of history, savouring of that mediaeval worship of a -woman which we meet with once and again, the Lauras and Beatrices of -life; stories scattered here and there to show us what so few realize, -the spiritual side of the life of man and woman; love which is content -to live, asking for nothing, looking for nothing that this earth can -give, wholly unselfish, content to serve, content to worship. - -Both Reginald and Ann knew Lord Craven's story well, they knew his -devotion to the queen and to the Protestant faith, also his untiring -goodness to the whole Stuart family. They had seen him, as all the -world had seen him, follow the coffin of his "queen", as he always -called Elizabeth Stuart, holding in his hand his plumed helmet, in which -was fastened always a small white glove, his token of service. Many -mocked, some smiled at the little Lord Craven, as he was ofttimes -called; but in their hearts all good-minded men honoured him. - -That the earl should address him thus familiarly was a high honour for -Reginald, and he felt it as such. - -"My lord," he said, "I thank you, but I have my sister with me, and -cannot leave her." - -"Mistress Ann," said Lord Craven, and his kindly face smiled down upon -the girl, "it seems to me we do not live far apart. Had you not a house -about here?" - -"Yes, my lord, we lived in yonder house," answered Reginald, and he -pointed to their old home. "But my father was arrested and thrown into -prison. He is dead, and we have moved to a humbler lodging." - -"I thought as much," said the Earl. "Come and tell me all that has -befallen you." And with that graciousness which bespoke the man who had -lived in courts, he bowed, and, looking at Ann, added: - -"You will do me much honour if you will accompany your brother to my -house." And he doffed his hat, with the white glove. - -Ann curtsied, and the three turned back together until they reached the -great portal leading to the earl's house at the corner of Drury Lane and -Aldwych. The door was wide open, as was often the custom in those days, -and men-servants stood here and there ready to receive and execute their -master's orders. Passing through the great hall, the earl conducted his -guests to his private library, where he mostly sat himself. It looked -out upon gardens, and seemed to all intents and purposes far removed -from the busy world. Over the mantelpiece was a lovely portrait of -Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, and beneath it was written: - -"Your most affectionate and most obedient slave, who loved you and will -love you incessantly, infinitely, unto death". - -Such was the vow William Craven had made as a young man, and from which, -now his hair was grey, death alone had released him. - -To Ann and Reginald in their youth, with the glamour of life still -before them, this room seemed a sanctuary. - -"Sit down, sit down," said the earl, "and tell me what your trouble is, -and why the glory has gone out of your young life." - -He smiled as he repeated Reginald's words. He recognized in them the -impatient cry of youth. - -Reginald never knew how it happened, but he poured out his whole soul to -the earl. He told him how he had refused to have anything to do with -Cromwell and the Commonwealth, how he had vowed allegiance to King -Charles and the Stuarts, how his father had been, so to speak, done to -death, and how he himself, seeing what the court of Charles II. was, had -lost heart. - -"You have been serving a man and not a cause," said Lord Craven; "that -is why you are in this plight. Forget the man, and think of the cause. -You do not know the Stuarts as I know them. They are a wild race--they -will not be curbed either for good or evil--daring, brilliant, -beautiful!" He paused, his eyes turning involuntarily to the portrait -of his queen. Then he continued, "They hold men's hearts in their hands, -and they break them without more ado than if they were of common clay. -Look back to their past history!" he exclaimed, and his face had in it a -strange beauty as he stood before the two young people and spoke to -them. "Think of Mary Stuart; she lost her crown, her kingdom, -everything, for love, and others lost everything for her. It is in -their blood; they cannot help it any more than men can help kneeling -before their shrine and worshipping them. We were a score of gentlemen -who first vowed ourselves to the service of the Princess Elizabeth when -she went forth out of England to wed the Prince Palatine. They are all -dead; I am left alone. Do you think I have not suffered? And yet you, -because you have high ideals and are disappointed, turn away in disgust, -and would go over to the enemy." - -"No, not that," said Reginald, "not that, but I will not be a courtier. -I will be what you are, my lord, a soldier. I will fight if there be -still a cause to fight for." - -"I think that will be easily found," said the earl; "there is likely to -be war with Holland before long. If you are truly desirous of seeing -active service, I will take care that you have a place found for you. -Will you serve under Prince Rupert?" - -"Indeed I will," answered Reginald. "I could hope for nothing better." - -"Then take courage," said the earl, "I will speak for you. You say that -your father is dead. He was like many another; the tables turned. Your -estates are likely to be forfeited, you will surely have heavy fines to -pay, but beyond that, seeing that you are yourself in the king's -service, and that you have never drawn sword against him, you will not -suffer. What estates have you?" - -"We have but one large estate," said Reginald, "and my father with his -dying breath bade me return it either to its lawful heirs or to God's -poor." - -"Where is it?" asked the earl. - -"Up north, in Westmorland," answered Reginald. "Newbolt Manor it is -called now, but it was once De Lisle Abbey, and belonged to the De -Lisles." - -"That's strange," said the earl; "poor Gilbert De Lisle! I knew him -well. He was killed at Worcester, and he left a fair young wife, who -died of a broken heart in child-birth. I never heard whether the child -lived or died." - -"I have always understood it died," said Reginald, "and that there was -no heir to the estate." - -"Ah, well, then the king will bestow it on some of his favourites," said -Lord Craven. "And your sister, has she no fortune, no dower-money?" - -"My father left some money," answered Reginald, "but my mother is -spending it." And then rapidly he told the earl of his father's -imprisonment and death, and how by natural instinct his mother had taken -up work in the prison, and now was spending all the wealth they had upon -it. - -"Then, Mistress Ann, we shall have to see to you," said the earl; "only -prevent this brother of yours from forsaking the cause. It has had its -dark days; you must live them down. Be not down-hearted," he said, -turning to Reginald. "We cannot make the world as we would have it; we -must take it as it comes and make the best of it. Resign your -commission in the King's Guards, and go abroad to Holland; I will give -you an introduction to Prince Rupert." - -Reginald hesitated for a moment. - -"My mother and my sister," he said, "I cannot leave them unprovided -for." - -"I will see to them," said the earl; "they shall not suffer. We cannot -afford to let young earnest souls like yours go adrift." - -"Thank you!" said Reginald, "I will think the matter over and bring you -my answer, if you will let me; but in any case I thank you for your -kindness to us strangers." - -"You are no strangers," said Earl Craven. "I have heard of you from my -friend Delarry." As he said this he looked at Ann, whose face coloured -and eyes drooped. "Moreover, I have watched you both. I knew of your -father's arrest and of his death, and I shall be glad to be of service -to you. I am afraid the king is making enemies of those who would be -faithful servants, so, as is my custom, I must step into the breach." - -"And we thank you," said Reginald; "your generosity will not have been -bestowed in vain." - -He bowed to Lord Craven, Ann curtsied, but the earl held out his hand to -them both. - -"We are friends. Think of me as such," he said; "for I am a lone man, -and would gladly boast of a son and daughter such as you are, to comfort -me in my old age. My house is open to you; when you need me you will -not be refused." - -With that he turned away, and Reginald and Ann went out together. - -"Surely it is God's hand," said Ann. "We were well-nigh despairing, you -and I, Reginald, and now we have a friend." - -"Yes," answered Reginald, "not too soon; the world seemed very dark, and -now, well, I see the sun." - -Ann looked up and smiled at him. - -"So do I," she said, and they went on together with light hearts. The -young are so glad to cast a burden off their shoulders, to greet the -sunshine, to welcome hope; it is the prerogative of youth! - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *The Hamlet of St. Mary's* - - -It was but a tiny village nestling in the midst of moors and fells. The -river Eden ran through it, and all around was the richest verdure, woods -and plantations, such as can only be seen in Westmorland, one of the -smallest but also one of the most fertile counties in England. - -It was just before harvest time--the golden corn waved over many an -acre. A tiny church stood with its white turret just under the -hill-side; beside it was the vicarage, and there for many a year the -Rev. John Ewan had dwelt and ministered to a scattered moorland flock. -He had come there as a young man with a young wife. She lay in the -little churchyard, and of their three children there remained but one, a -girl of sixteen summers, who kept house and served her father with -untiring devotion. She had never been beyond the radius of the three -counties which bound Westmorland, and she had no ambition to wander. -She had no companion save her father; she rode and walked with him. He -had taught her all she knew, and that was considerably more than most -girls, for the winters were long and the days short, and in the evening, -over the fireside, she read much, and she listened to her father as he -spoke to her of things of the past. She knew much of the history of -England; it was a passion with her, and she had ever been a rigid -loyalist, as her father was. - -Strange to tell, throughout the Civil War this little village and its -minister had been left unmolested, and yet it was at no great distance -from Appleby; but then it was such a little place, and the farmhouses -were so scattered. Often during those days of internal warfare they had -seen men on horseback, Roundheads and Royalists alike, ride in hot haste -through the village, and Jessie had longed for them to stop. She would -have dearly loved to speak with them, but they passed on. There was -nothing to tempt them in the dozen low thatched cottages which clustered -together; there was no inn for them to halt at for refreshment, so they -invariably rode on. Almost at the top of the hill, beyond which the -moorlands stretched, there was an old farmhouse. No one knew to whom by -rights it belonged. Some said it was part of the De Lisle estate; -others that it was tithe land, and the vicar could lay claim to it. Be -that as it may, it had been long uninhabited, when one morning a -serving-man stopped at the vicarage gate and asked to see the minister. - -He was shown into a room with great rafters across the ceiling and walls -lined with books. At a table in the centre, at his desk, sat the vicar. -He was a man something over forty, with a handsome, clever face, but -with a look of abstraction in his eyes not unusual in one who lives far -away from the world and its doings. This morning he had two companions, -a big sheep-dog and Jessie, the latter curled up in an arm-chair deep in -her book. - -"A man wants to see you, sir," said the woman servant, opening the door -just wide enough to put in her head. - -"Show him in, Mary," answered the vicar; and a big man in a rough brown -jerkin, leggings, coarse stockings, and hob-nailed shoes entered, -holding his cap in his hand. He was a man of about five-and-thirty, -with a mass of brown hair and a somewhat reddish beard. - -He came up and stood at the vicar's table. As he did so he laid a -letter before him. - -"My mistress has sent me with this," he said; "will you please read it, -sir, and give me your answer." - -The vicar looked at the man. - -"It seems to me I have seen you before," he said. - -The man shook his head. - -"It is many a long day since I have been in these parts," he said. - -"Then you _have_ been in these parts before?" asked the vicar. - -"Will you read the letter, sir, because I have left the missus in the -wood out yonder," he answered shortly, adding, "We have travelled all -the way from London, and shall be glad to have a roof over our heads." - -Jessie twisted herself round, looked at the man, then rose, saying -quickly: - -"There is no room in this village, and no inn; you must go farther on to -Dearham." - -The man looked at her, a queer smile lighting up his rugged face. - -"There be the Holt, missie, I ween." - -"The Holt!" exclaimed Jessie; "people don't go to the Holt, do they, -Father?" - -During this conversation the vicar was reading the letter which had been -given to him. It consisted of four pages of close writing, and the -vicar's face changed more than once while he was mastering its contents. - -When he had finished he laid the letter down and rested his head in his -hands. - -"Well, sir?" said the man anxiously. - -"I will go back with you, my man," he said. - -"Jessie," he continued, "the key of Holt Farm is on the nail; take it, -go quickly and open the house." And without another word he and the man -went out together. - -Jessie rose, took the key, whistled, and went to the door, the sheep-dog -at her heels. - -"Where be you going, miss?" asked Mary, looking out from the half-open -kitchen door. - -"I am going to Holt Farm," she answered, "to open it." - -"What for? It was aired last Monday," said Mary. - -"Father told me to go," answered Jessie; and with that she left the -house, went through the garden and the adjoining churchyard, crossed a -low stone bridge which spanned the river a few yards lower down, and -began climbing the hillside. - -It was pretty steep, but she did not feel it; she had been born among -the hills, and fells, and dales. The dog bounded before her, sniffing -the balmy air, odorous with the scent of the heather and the -multitudinous wild flowers which grew on the hillside. It was a good -walk before she reached the wicket-gate, and, lifting the latch, went -into the farm garden. - -A gravel path led up to the house. There were no weeds, no overgrowth -of any sort, as is often the case in an uninhabited homestead. - -He had never given any reason for his doing so, but the vicar had -himself kept the place in order, had had repairs done when necessary, -and had seen that the garden was trim and neat, and that every week the -windows were thrown open. The house was literally buried in trees, so -that till you came close up to it you could not see more than the -outline of a building. There had been no clearance made for the last -fifteen years, and the boughs of the elm-trees touched the windows. - -It was not a large place: a stone house with a deep porch in the centre, -on either side of which were long low windows, with lozenge-shaped panes -of glass. On the first and only story were two similar windows, that was -all; but the house extended far back, looking out upon a somewhat large -court-yard, in which there were stables and outhouses, as was common in -farmhouses. - -Jessie turned the big key in the door; it opened immediately, and she -entered a small, square hall. It was red-tiled and furnished with some -oak chairs, and a great clock of the kind we nowadays call a -grandfather's clock. From this hall a staircase led to the upper rooms. -On either side of the hall were doors, which Jessie now threw open. The -one on the right hand showed a long, low, oak-panelled room, with a -large fireplace, a great oak table in the centre, a sideboard, and a -dresser, upon which were arranged plates, and dishes, and great pewter -mugs. - -Evidently this was the dining-hall and kitchen in one, for beyond was -the scullery. Everything was spotlessly clean, save for a light -covering of dust. The door on the other side of the hall led into a -parlour, which was furnished with unusual luxury for those days. The -sofas and easy-chairs were covered with a delicately faded chintz. -There were taborets and small tables, scattered here and there, of -highly-polished oak, upon which stood vases and big bowls of old china. -A pair of virginals occupied one corner of the room, and beside them, on -a stool, lay an unstrung guitar. It was a room which conjured up -dreams. Who had dwelt there? What gentle soul had once touched those -now broken cords, or let her fingers run over the notes of the -virginals? There were portraits also on the walls, not many; but two -attracted the eye at once. They represented a young man in full court -dress of the time of Charles I, and a young girl, a child almost, in a -white satin gown, with strings of pearls round her neck, and her fair, -golden hair in curls about her forehead. - -Jessie from her childhood had always loved this room. Once or twice she -had asked her father whom these pictures represented, and what was the -story of this house where no one dwelt, but he had answered: - -"I cannot tell you, Jessie. I was a young man when I came here. I only -saw the mistress once--when she was dying. Don't ask me anything more, -child!" - -So she had dreamt of many things, and made pictures to herself of those -who had once lived in those rooms. - -Upstairs there were two bed-rooms with great beds in them, one shrouded -in damask, the other in white dimity. - -Looking out of the window she saw her father and the man coming up -towards the house leading three horses. On two of them women were -riding on pillions; the other one had no rider, but instead a girl was -running on in front. She had thrown off her cloak, for although it was -early morning the day was warm, and she was bareheaded. - -Jessie went out into the porch, and, looking down at this girl, saw that -her face and figure were unlike any she had ever seen before. She -resembled a lily, tall and willowy, with golden hair, upon which the sun -now glinted, and with a face so sweet that at a distance it might have -been an angel's. - -She was evidently impatient, for she ran quickly on in front of the -others. Once she paused and looked back, and Jessie heard her call out: - -"Is it up there--all the way up there?" - -And her father, raising his hat, had answered her: - -"Yes, up there, my child." - -In a short time she had reached the wicket-gate, caught sight of Jessie -in the porch, and laughed at her, such a glad, merry laugh, which seemed -to bring joy with it, and stir up all the echoes in the old house! - -Jessie started. Could it be that she heard that laugh re-echoed from -somewhere? But she had no time to listen; her hands were taken, and -rosy lips pouted to kiss her. - -"You have come to welcome us!" exclaimed the girl. "That is good of -you. Oh, I am so glad to be here; I am so tired!" - -"One would not think so," returned Jessie; "you have come so quickly." - -"Of course, of course I came quickly, because I am so tired," was the -merry answer. "Let me see." And she pushed her way past Jessie and ran -straight into the parlour. - -"Oh, how sweet! how pretty!" she exclaimed. "I thought it would be ugly -and desolate. Patience would not tell me; she said she had seen Holt -Farm long long ago, and verily it looks as if someone had just gone out -and left it for us. Oh, I shall be so happy here, so happy!" And she -let herself fall into a great arm-chair, which seemed to swallow her up. - -Just at that moment the vicar and Patience reached the house. The vicar -lifted Patience down, and, turning, said to Rolfe, the man-servant: - -"Take the horses round to the back. I will come and show you the way to -the stables." - -"Thank you kindly, sir, I know the way," answered Rolfe. "You had -better get down here," he added, speaking to the serving-woman, and he -lifted her to the ground; but she was stiff with her long journeyings, -and would have fallen if he had not steadied her. - -"Lack-a-day!" she exclaimed, "I hope this is the end of our journeyings. -A poor place, and a lonely one! Why, man, we might be murdered up here -and no one be any the wiser!" - -"Have no fear; you will not be murdered," said Rolfe, and, taking the -three horses by their reins, he led them away. - -Patience had entered the house. Her face was very white, her eyes full -of tears, as she stood inside the parlour door looking around her. - -Agnes, when she saw her, sprang up. - -"Patience, you never told me it was so beautiful! It is the loveliest -little place I have ever seen." - -"It is a very humble home," said Patience, "but it is home." - -"I have never had a home before," said Agnes, "only big rambling -palaces. I shall love this; it breathes of love." And, taking Jessie's -hand, she said, "Take me, show me everything." - -Jessie looked at her father. This impetuous young person was a -revelation to them both; life was so still and calm at St. Mary's, for -so the hamlet was called. A little way down the river there had once -been a chapel, dedicated to the Virgin. It formed part of an old -convent, but the convent and chapel had been destroyed in the time of -Henry VIII; a few stones only remained to show where it had been, but -the name of St. Mary's had remained to the hamlet. - -"Well," said Agnes, "are you not going to show me anything?" And she -frowned at Jessie. - -"Yes, yes! Come, I will show you all!" Jessie answered quickly, as if -she were bound to obey this newcomer. - -"First tell me your name." - -"My name is Jessie," was the answer. - -"And mine is Agnes. That will do; now, Jessie, come along." And the -young feet pattered away over the tiled floors, through the kitchen and -scullery, out into the court-yard, then up the stairs, and through the -bed-rooms, awakening echoes where there had been a long silence. - -Patience looked up at the vicar. - -"Have I done well?" she asked. - -"I think you have done well and wisely," he answered. - -"And you, is it well with you? How beautifully you have kept the place. -It is just as we left it." - -"I have done my best," the vicar answered; "it has been a labour of -love. I thought you would bring the child home one day." - -"It is time I did," she answered. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *The Mystery Cleared Up* - - -"Father, who are these people who have walked into Holt Farm as if it -belonged to them?" asked Jessie that same evening. "Is it for them you -have kept it so beautiful?" - -The vicar hesitated a moment, looked at his daughter, then said quietly: - -"Yes, Jessie, it was for them." - -"Why have you never told me about them? Have you known them long?" she -asked. - -"I baptized that child," he answered, "and I buried her mother; she lies -beneath the chancel in our little church." - -"Where the cross is in the pavement, Father?" Jessie asked. - -"Yes, there," he answered. - -"There is no name," said Jessie softly. - -"No, there is no name," answered her father. - -"Does she know?" asked Jessie. - -"Do you mean does the child know?" asked the vicar. - -"Yes; who else should I mean?" - -"I cannot tell," he answered; "I do not know myself." - -"And the person who is with her?" asked Jessie. - -"She knows everything; more than I do," answered her father. "She -carried the child away, and I have not seen her since; only from time to -time I have heard from her, and have had sums of money sent me to keep -the house in order. It belongs to her. Now you must ask no more -questions, and you must answer none. Can I trust you?" - -"Of course you can," said Jessie, with a little touch of temper. "How -beautiful this Agnes is!" she continued; "she is like two persons in -one. She has the golden hair of the lady in the picture, and the -laughing brown eyes of the man." - -"You saw that?" asked her father. - -"Of course I saw it; anyone would," she answered. - -"Well, then, say nothing about it," said her father. - -They sat down to their evening meal. Mary, the faithful servant, who -had been with them ever since Jessie's birth, who had nursed the -mistress, who had seen the other little children laid beside her to -rest, was excited to-night, and could not keep silence as she waited on -the vicar and his daughter. - -"The people in the village are all agog to know who the newcomers are," -she said. "Only a few are left who remember the coming and the flitting -from the Holt, fifteen years ago. They remember the christening of the -babe and the burying of the mother. Old Thomas, the sexton, says he's -sure the child's name was Agnes. Can that girl be the child?" - -"It is even so, Mary," said the vicar, "but you need not talk about it. -Let them say what they will. In a few days they will quiet down, and we -shall hear no more gossip." - -"I am not given to gossiping," said Mary in an injured tone, "but it's -not that easy to shut other people's mouths." - -"Don't try," said her master; "let things be." - -The vicar was right. Things let alone settle down by themselves, and -before a month was over Agnes and Patience had stepped into their -places; it was as if they had always been at St. Mary's. - -To the child it was a homecoming, a joy to her who had never had a home. -From the first it was settled that she should go every day to the vicar -to be taught with Jessie. - -"She is very ignorant," Patience said, "she can barely read or write in -English; but she is quick, and I shall be much mistaken if she does not -learn as fast as you can teach her." - -So the girlish figure running down the hillside, crossing the bridge, -picking her way over the tombstones of the little churchyard on her way -to the vicarage garden, was soon a familiar sight. The men and women -going to their work in the fields wished her good morrow, and she -answered them with a glad voice and a brilliant smile, so that at last -many went out of their way to win that smile and that gracious greeting. - -"She be that beautiful," they would say amongst themselves, and -gradually a few remembered how the vicar had baptized a babe who was -born at the Holt and how he had buried the mother a few days later. "If -she be that babe," they said, "surely she be one of us." And they -straightway adopted her. - -Holt Farm, though not in itself an extensive holding, consisted of -fields which had always been used by the vicar for grazing purposes. -Also there was an acre or two of agricultural land, where the corn and -the barley waved in their seasons. The vicar had superintended the -farming of all this, and had gathered in the money, but now Patience -took all things into her own hands. She engaged the labourers, she -presided over the dairy, and the cattle and the poultry yard became a -great feature of the place. Rolfe was her head man and Martha saw to -the house, and the vicar went each day to the Holt to see that all was -well with Patience, and if she needed counsel, he gave it. - -This homecoming of these two strangers changed many things in the hamlet -of St. Mary's. Holt Farm became a centre to which they all looked. In -that scattered parish for miles round the peasants soon learnt that for -every ill and for every sorrow they would find help and sympathy there, -so they came without fear and returned to their own homes cured, they -said, both in body and soul. - -Never for one moment did Agnes complain of the tasks set her by the -vicar. Jessie was always there, and Jessie always helped her as long as -she needed help, but she had come to her teacher with a clear, untired -mind, and everything was easy to her. The vicar was a wonderful -teacher; as he had taught Jessie, so he taught Agnes, not dry regulation -lessons, but the pith of knowledge of people and of things. He let her -talk; he let her tell him all her difficulties. She had but little clear -knowledge of religion. This he put down to her foreign life. What she -did know was indeed a strange medley; but with his strong mind he made -things plain to her, so that she learnt to see and to understand -rightly. - -She was very confidential with him, as if he had been her father. - -"I do not know anything about my father or my mother," she said one day, -"only that they are dead." And tears gathered in her eyes so that the -vicar was moved. He laid his hand on her, saying, "I baptized you, -Agnes, and the same night your mother died. Will you come and see where -her body lies until the great resurrection day?" He took her by the -hand, and Jessie followed them. The three knelt before the altar, in -front of which was a black cross embedded in the stone. It had been the -vicar's own handiwork. - -When they rose from their knees Agnes asked under her voice: - -"What was my mother's name?" - -"Go home and ask Dame Patience," said the vicar. "I cannot tell you; -she is your guardian." - -Agnes went home, and that night the vicar came and spoke to Patience, -and told her she had best tell the child the mystery of her birth. - -"It is no mystery," said Patience, "only because we feared those to whom -Cromwell might give her lands, and what evil might befall her in -consequence, have I kept it secret, and the queen also." Then, taking -Agnes by the hand, she pointed to the two pictures and said: - -"That is your father, Sir Gilbert de Lisle, and that is your mother, -Agnes, his young wife, and my sister. This place belongs to me, it was -part of my inheritance, and when your father joined the king's army he -entreated me to bring his wife hither because it is a quiet place, and -because to leave her alone at De Lisle Abbey would have been to expose -her to great danger if the king's army were routed. I consented, and he -brought her himself to the Holt, and here they parted never to meet -again. Our worst fears were realized: your father was killed at -Worcester, and from that hour your mother never lifted her head. She -waited to give you birth, and died within the week, desiring me to take -you as soon as I could over to France to Queen Henrietta Maria. I was -loath to do so; I would sooner have kept you here. But she proved right, -for before long Cromwell laid his hands on everything, distributed lands -and estates, and a child like you, with no one to protect you, would -probably have fared badly. We heard that the whole of the De Lisle -estate had been bestowed upon a Parliamentarian, but who he was we do -not know." - -Agnes turned sharply round: - -"But I know," she said. - -"Who?" asked Patience. - -"Colonel Newbolt!" answered Agnes. - -"How do you know?" asked the vicar. - -"Because, as Aunt Patience knows, his son and daughter are great friends -of mine, and as we were talking one day they told me they had come into -lands belonging to Royalists. I asked the name of the Royalists, and -Reginald answered, 'The De Lisles'. Afterwards Ann told me all about -the De Lisles, and the legend concerning them. Then again, I heard from -an old man that though they had been driven out the De Lisles would come -back again. But Ann and Reginald are my dear friends! I will not have -them turned out for me! They would have gone of themselves if they had -been asked, but they shall not be asked; they are my friends." And she -burst out weeping. - -It was such an unusual thing for Agnes to weep that Patience took her in -her arms, and petted and made much of her. - -"We will leave things in God's hands, my child," she said. "If He gives -you back your own it will be well; if not, then it will be well also." - -"What do I want more than I have?" said Agnes. "I am your child, my own -dear aunt, and this place shall be my home; here I was born, and here my -mother is buried--I am content." - -"So be it," said Patience. "No one shall trouble you; we will dwell in -peace together." - -Verily they did dwell in peace, buried in this little out-of-the-way -spot. If Agnes sometimes thought of her old friends, she silenced her -longings, for to find them she must go back to a world which she did not -love, to London or to Paris, to courts and court life. In the quiet -hours of study her mind grew with such rapidity that even the vicar -marvelled. - -Jessie was no laggard at learning or at work of any sort, but Agnes -outstripped her, with that quiet ease with which she did everything. -Her beautiful soul was reflected in her form and face. To see her was -to love her. She was a sunbeam going in and out of the cottages, -running to and fro, kneeling in church; wherever she passed, brightness -followed in her wake. - -Excepting at night she and Jessie were never parted. The Holt and the -Vicarage were one home for both; so they grew side by side, Jessie a -quiet maiden, very wise and good, ordering her father's house, teaching -in the little school, visiting the sick all day. In the evenings the -two would sit together reading or talking, the vicar and Patience would -join them, and the former would bring tidings from the outside world. -Two or three times a year he would go into Appleby, and then he would -come back with a great store of court news. He told them of the battles -which were being fought at sea, of the selling of Dunkirk--a shame to -England--of stories of De Ruyter and many other great captains. - -"England is losing her prestige," he said, "by sea and by land. The -king loves pleasure too well, and his country too little." - -Like tall lilies the two girls grew, side by side, with sunshine in -their hearts and on their faces. The tender blossoms of spring, the -bright summer days with their fruits and flowers, the mellow autumn with -its crimson sunsets, the snows of winter, went and came almost unheeded -by them, for each season had its joys. There was not a cloud on those -young brows; unreasoningly, as if it were a natural thing, they rejoiced -in life. Shadows had gone before and might follow after, but for the -time they walked in light. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *At Court* - - -Men stopped their work, women turned out on to their door-steps, to see -a king's messenger riding through the hamlet of St. Mary's. He drew -rein at the vicarage gate, threw himself off his horse, and would have -knocked at the door had it not been wide open; so he called out: - -"In the king's name, parson!" - -The vicar, bending over his next Sunday's sermon, rose hastily and came -out. - -"Are you Parson Ewan?" asked the man. - -"I am," answered the vicar, straightening himself. - -"Then can you tell me if a woman by name Patience Beaumont is living -hereabouts at a place called Holt Farm?" - -"Certainly she is," said the vicar. "She has dwelt there for well-nigh -three years." - -"Will you direct me to the farm?" asked the messenger. - -Without any further answer the vicar stepped out into the garden. - -"You have but to cross yonder bridge and go straight before you. Holt -Farm stands just behind that clump of trees." - -"It is a steep ride for a horse," put in the man. - -"Yes; you would do better to go on foot," answered the vicar. "I will -see to your horse; you will find it here on your way back." - -"Thank you!" said the messenger, "I shall be glad to walk. I have been -riding since dawn." - -"You come from London?" asked the vicar. - -"Naturally," answered the man. "Do you not see I am a king's messenger? -But I come from a queen." And he showed on his sleeve the embroidered -lilies of France entwined with the rose of England. - -"Queen Henrietta Maria of France?" said the vicar slowly. - -"The same," answered the man, giving the reins he still held to the -vicar. "Have you no inn in the place?" he asked. - -"No," said the vicar, "but you will find good refreshment up yonder. I -would offer you some myself, but it is better for a man to do his work -first and eat and drink afterwards. You have not far to go." - -The man shrugged his shoulders. - -"Perhaps you are wise," he said, and went off. - -The vicar watched him. "What news can he have brought?" he thought. -"Is our peace going to be broken into?" And a look of regret crept over -his face. Three peaceful years is a span in a man's life which he does -not willingly see disturbed. - -He turned, re-entered the house, and was met by Jessie in her bibbed -apron, her hands white from kneading the bread. - -"Who is that man, Father?" she asked. - -"The king's messenger," he answered. - -"What can he want? Why has he come here?" - -"That I cannot tell you," answered her father. "We shall probably know -in due time." - -"If I had not my first batch ready for the oven, I would run up to the -farm at once," she said regretfully. - -"Better wait, my little girl," said the vicar. "If it is good news it -will come to us quickly; if it is bad, there is time enough. Go back to -your bread-making; I will go back to my sermon." - -"Oh, that is all very well!" Jessie muttered to herself, "but I am -always afraid of what will happen up there, lest something should take -them away again, and then, then what should I do?" And tears gathered -in her eyes. - -If Jessie had had few joys in life, she had had no sorrows, so that even -this little cloud, no bigger than a man's hand in her horizon, -frightened her soul. She went back to her bread-making, but her heart -was no longer in her work, and the bread suffered; it was long rising, -and she felt guilty when on the morrow Mary remarked: - -"It's not so light as it might be, Jessie." - - -Agnes was in the garden tying up some plants, gathering the roses, and -clearing away any dead leaf or bud which had faded on the bushes. -Suddenly she heard a click at the garden gate, looked up, and saw a man -in the royal livery she remembered so well, just walking up the gravel -path to the house. - -He saw her, came up, and doffed his cap. - -"Are you Dame Patience Beaumont?" he asked. - -"No," she answered, laughing; "I am Agnes Beaumont. Patience is my -aunt. What do you want with her?" - -"I have a letter for her," answered the messenger, opening a satchel -which was flung over his shoulder, and drawing forth a somewhat large -packet. "I was to deliver this into her own hands," he continued. "Will -you call her? And then will you bid your serving wench give me some -food? I have ridden hard since dawn without breaking my fast, and I am -both hungry and thirsty--more thirsty than hungry," he added, with a -meaning look. - -"Come this way," said Agnes, and though she was clad in simple homespun, -with a white kerchief folded across her bosom and an apron tied over her -skirt, and though she wore thick high-heeled shoes--on which, however, -were silver buckles--there was about her a something which spoke of -gentle birth. She walked so erect, so easily, with such an unspeakably -graceful swing. - -The man watched her curiously. He was accustomed to court dames, -queens, and princesses. - -"If you will come this way," she said, "Martha will give you food and -drink, and I will take your letter." - -He followed her to the back premises, and, opening a side door which led -into the kitchen, she called out: - -"Here is a king's messenger, Martha, asking for Aunt Patience. He has -travelled from London, and is hungry and thirsty. Will you see to him?" - -"Lack-a-day!" said Martha, coming forward, "I guess he'll bring us no -good." - -"That's a hard speech, Mistress Martha," said the man. "Why should I -bring you ought but good from her gracious majesty, Queen Henrietta, -whose servant I am?" - -She stood before him and looked at him. - -"Why," she cried, "you're Peter Kemp!" - -"And you be Martha," he said. "Well, the place has agreed with you, -Martha; you look ten years younger." And he caught hold of her two -hands and shook them. - -"Supposing you give me my aunt's letter," broke in Agnes with a stately -air, "you can greet each other after." - -"I beg your humble pardon," said the man, and fumbling once more in the -satchel, he drew out the packet, and without any further trouble gave it -to her. - -[Illustration: "HE DREW OUT THE PACKETS"] - -She turned to go, but remembering, looked back and said somewhat -haughtily: - -"You can feed him now, Martha." - -She was hardly outside the door when she heard them talking, fifty to -the dozen. She paused, and looked doubtfully at the packet in her hand. - -"Is it for good or evil?" she murmured; then she added quickly: "Why -should I fear? Surely what God sends must be good." - -She was no longer a child but a girl, verging upon womanhood, tall, not -over slight of figure, but, as we have said before, graceful and -perfectly built. The face was the same child's face; the tendrils of -golden hair still clustered round her head and lay on her white neck; -the brown eyes had the same luminous, laughing look in them; her -colouring was rich and perfect, a little sunburnt, like a ripe peach, -and the lips were ripe too. - -A door led from the kitchen to the living-room, so she had not far to -go. Patience was sitting at the table with a pile of snowy linen in -front of her, which she was sorting and arranging with housewifely care. - -"Aunt Patience," said Agnes, going up to her, "a king's messenger has -just brought this;" and she put the packet down before her. Then she -stood at the other side of the table, her hands on her hips, watching -her aunt, who took the packet up, turned it over, sighed, and exclaimed: - -"Ah me, I have always feared this day would come!" - -"Why have you feared it?" asked Agnes sharply. - -"Because I am very much mistaken if it does not mean an uprooting," said -Patience. - -"But if you do not choose to go, must you?" asked Agnes. - -"Yes, I must," answered Patience. "You are old enough to understand -now, Agnes, that I owe it to your father's honour to show you to the -world as his child, the heiress of the De Lisles. There is no need now -to hide it; if the queen has sent for me it is because she is of the -same mind." With that she broke the seal and read the queen's letter. - -It contained an express command for her to come to London and bring the -child, Agnes De Lisle, with her, with all the papers necessary to prove -her father's marriage with Agnes Beaumont, and her own birth. - -"But I do not care," said Agnes. "I do not want to go; I am quite happy -here." - -"We are what we are born," said Patience. "Have you forgotten your -catechism, 'to do your duty in that state of life in which it has -pleased God to place you'? We will go to London, Agnes, and come back -here if we can, my child." - -Then Agnes threw herself face downwards on the table and sobbed her -heart out. Patience herself was as white as the linen which lay before -her, but she never swerved from what she believed to be right. That, -too, was her nature; she gave no thought to her own likings or -dislikings. Young as she had been when her sister died, all these years -she had lived for her child and her duty. She sat quietly waiting till -Agnes's storm of sobs should cease. Upon this scene the vicar entered. - -He was evidently very serious and very much troubled. Patience looked -up as he entered and their eyes met for one second, then she looked -away, and a faint flush coloured her face. He went up to Agnes. - -"My little girl," he said, "why this great grief?" - -"The queen has ordered us to London," said Patience. "She must have -divined our hiding-place, or someone must have told her, and she has -bidden me take Agnes with me." - -"Well, of course you must go," said the vicar; "what is there so very -terrible in this, Agnes? I have heard you say you loved the queen well, -and her daughter too." - -"So I did," said Agnes, "but all that is past like a dream. I have been -so happy here." - -"And you were happy before you came here," said the vicar, smiling. "I -thought you looked the happiest child I had ever seen when I first saw -you. You will always find some joy in life, Agnes; it is in your nature. -Come, cheer up!" - -The vicar's power over Agnes had always been unquestioned. She stood -up, wiped her eyes, and a poor little smile crept over her pretty face. - -"There, that's all right," said the vicar, patting her on the shoulder. -"Now, Mistress Patience, let me see your letter." - -"Well," he said, laying it down, "much honour awaits you, Agnes, and you -must try and do us all credit, and prove yourself worthy to be the -representative of so good and so old a family as the De Lisles. You are -your father's daughter, remember. You never knew him, but your Aunt -Patience did, and she will tell you that he was a man of high honour and -a good Christian soldier. He served God, he honoured his king, and he -loved your mother. Is it not so, Patience?" - -"Ah, it is indeed!" she said; "he worshipped his young wife. She was so -young and fragile, it was something more than ordinary love which he -bore her, and she could not live without him, that is why she died, -Agnes. I see her now standing at his stirrup as he bade her farewell. -She was brave as long as she saw him, but she fainted in my arms when he -was out of sight. I tried hard to make her live for love of you, but -she shook her head. 'I cannot', she said, and so she died." - -Tears filled even the vicar's eyes as Patience told this story of true -love. - -Fortunately Martha broke in upon them. - -"Peter Kemp says he must be off, that he must be at Skipton before -nightfall. The queen was urgent that he should not tarry on the road. -He waits your answer." - -"He shall have it," said Patience, and going to an ancient cabinet she -opened it, drew forth paper and pens, sat down and indited her letter, -folded and sealed it, and then went herself into the kitchen and gave it -to the man. - -She knew him well, even as Rolfe, whom Martha had fetched, did. The men -had been comrades together. - -"You will come back to London, Rolfe," Peter said, as he took up his cap -to go. - -"Not I," answered Rolfe. "I never had much liking for court life; I -shall abide here and keep the place together." - -"Then you'll come, Martha," said Peter. - -"I shall go where my mistress goes," answered the woman. "Good-day, and -good luck go with you, Peter Kemp!" - -They shook hands. - -"I'll go down the hill with you," said Rolfe. "You left your horse at -the vicarage?" - -"Yes; he was well-nigh done, and it's a mighty steep climb up here," -said Peter. - -"We are near the top," answered Rolfe carelessly; "it's fine and airy." - -They went down the hillside together. Before them, flitting like a -fairy over the grass, they saw Agnes; she sped so quickly that they -could not overtake her. She crossed the bridge and disappeared into the -vicarage before they reached it. - -"A bird of ill omen he is," said the vicar's Mary, standing by Rolfe at -the vicarage gate watching Peter ride away; then she added, in a low -voice, "Those two young creatures are well-nigh breaking their hearts -over the news he brought." - -"They're young," answered Rolfe; "their hearts will mend, have no fear, -Mary." - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *Under the Shadow of Newgate* - - -"Let Mistress Patience know that I am waiting to receive her," said -Queen Henrietta Maria, as she sat before her dressing-table, the barber -being engaged in the dressing of her hair. - -She was no longer the beautiful Henrietta Maria who had come to England -as the bride of Charles I. Trouble had told upon her and aged her even -before her time, and we find her spoken of in the chronicles as a -"little old woman". And yet she was not more than fifty-six years of -age; but she had grown crusty, and evil-tempered, jealous of those who -were younger than herself, and nothing ages a woman like jealousy and -spite. A kindly, loving heart softens away the hard lines and keeps the -face young because of the love which dwells in the heart; but where -there is no love, there is no youth. - -She had hardly given the order when the door was thrown open and the -usher announced: "Madam Patience Beaumont and the Lady Agnes De Lisle." - -The queen turned sharply round, despite her barber's exclamation of -despair, and the tired face brightened up. "At last, you truants!" she -exclaimed, as Patience hurried forward, knelt, and kissed the extended -hand. The queen's eyes passed over her and rested on Agnes: "Verily a -beauty!" she whispered. "Well, ma mie," she said aloud, as Agnes -approached her, "have you quite forgotten your queen-mother?" - -"I have not forgotten her at all, your majesty," answered Agnes, as she -followed her aunt's example, knelt, and kissed the royal hand; but -Henrietta lifted her face between her hands and looked at her, tears -filling her eyes. - -"Patience," she said, "she is the most beautiful thing I have seen for -many a day; she is father and mother welded together. Is she as good as -she is beautiful?" - -"Ah, Madam, who can tell?" answered Patience; "she is very young, and -has not been tempted." - -The queen's brow darkened as she repeated the words. "Ah, that is it; -she has not been tempted! You have kept her in cotton wool, Patience." - -"Nay," answered Patience, "I have kept her beneath God's heaven in the -world of nature, and I would have kept her there still had your majesty -not sent for her." - -Again the queen's brow darkened, but she answered quickly: "It was our -duty to her father and mother. If I had not interfered you would have -married her to some country bumpkin. Now we will see that she is -restored to her rightful position; is it not so, Agnes?" And she tapped -the girl on her cheek. Then she turned back again and the barber renewed -his offices. - -"Come, stand beside me, child, and tell me what you have been doing all -these years, and why you did not write even to Henrietta? She is -mightily angry with you!" - -"I did not let her," answered Patience; "it would have only been a -disturbing element in her life." - -"I have not forgotten that she was my first friend," said Agnes. "I -have prayed for her every day, and I should love to see her, only----" - -"Only what?" asked the queen sharply. - -"I do not think I like court life." - -"Ah, you will soon speak differently," said the queen, "when you are -flattered and made much of! Have you brought the necessary papers, -Patience, that I may show them to my son? I see she has taken her -rightful name, Agnes De Lisle; the next thing will be to restore her -estates. Do you know who holds them?" - -"We know who did," answered Patience, "but they may have been -dispossessed." - -"Who may it be?" asked the queen. - -"The De Lisle estates were given to Colonel Newbolt, who was imprisoned -and died at Newgate," answered Patience. "His son Reginald was his -heir." - -"Has he not inherited?" asked the queen. - -"He certainly has put in no claim," answered Patience, "for he went -abroad soon after his father's death and has not returned." - -"But someone has taken the rents," said the queen. - -"That remains for your majesty to find out," said Patience. "I cannot -tell." - -"Well, we will enquire into the matter," said the queen, as, released -from her barber, she stood up and faced Agnes. Again she smiled as she -looked at the girl, who was simply charming, in a plain, white gown, -unbedizened, with only a coil of pearls round her white throat, and her -hair in natural curls. She was as fresh as a flower, and the queen, -delighted, clapped her hands, and, turning to her friend, Lord Jermyn, -said in a low voice, "She will make a sensation. Did you ever see -anything so fresh?" - -"Not of late years, certainly," he answered. "But your majesty is -forgetting your appointment with the king at Whitehall." - -"Well, well, I must be gone," said the queen, "but I shall expect you to -be here when I return, Patience; I have many things to ask you. Bring -the child with you; mind you always bring the child." - -"Your majesty does her great honour," said Patience. "I will not -forget." - -Then the queen nodded kindly to Agnes, and gave her hand to Lord Jermyn, -who conducted her down the stairs and across the hall to her coach, -which was in waiting. - -Patience and Agnes returned to their own apartments, which were the same -as they had occupied before; for, although Somerset House had been -restored and a certain portion rebuilt, these rooms had been left almost -as they were. - -Agnes was very serious when they found themselves alone. "I wish we -were home again, Patience!" she sighed. "Do you know, I am -frightened--frightened of the queen, frightened of everything; and yet I -used not to be. I did not care a bit for queens and princesses in olden -days. I remember quite well sitting on the queen's lap and talking to -her as I would to anyone else. I could not do that now. And then, -again, I thought she was very beautiful; but she is not beautiful now, -yet it is not so very long ago." - -"It has been long enough to make a woman of you, Agnes, and therefore -long enough to age the queen and mar her beauty." - -"It has not marred yours, Patience," said the girl. "I never remember -you any other than you are now; your face was always so sweet. It is -like, well, it is like a madonna's face. It must be because you are so -good." - -"Hush, hush!" said Patience, her pale cheeks colouring. "I am not at -all good, Agnes; I have been very wilful, as wilful as you could be if -you were driven to it." - -"I hope that will never be," said Agnes. "Do you know, Aunt Patience, I -heard you tell the queen that I had never been tempted. Surely to be -tempted is not a necessity. I always stop in my prayers and say twice -over, 'Lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil'." - -"As long as you do that, you will never go far wrong," said Patience, -stroking the fair face which she loved so well. - -"Now, what shall we do this afternoon, little one? It is very hot." - -"Yes, it is very hot," said Agnes; "this London is stifling." She went -to the window and threw it wide open. "Ah, it is like a furnace -outside!" she added, and quickly shut the window. - -"I think we had best stay where we are," said Patience, "and later we -will take a barge and go up or down the river; surely there will be some -air there!" - -Agnes did not answer, she seemed to be thinking. - -"Does not what I propose suit you, child?" asked Patience. - -The girl threw herself on her knees beside her aunt. - -"Dear," she said, "I have a great wish. I don't seem to care for -anything else in London, but I want to find Ann Newbolt! How can we do -it? You remember we heard that Reginald had gone abroad, and that Ann -was living somewhere with her mother not far from Newgate." - -"That is no good," said Patience; "it would be like hunting for a needle -in a haystack. Besides, I am not sure that it would be well for you to -find those Newbolts again. You see, if the king is determined to -restore you to your own they must be driven out." - -"I should hate that; oh, I should hate it terribly!" cried Agnes. - -"But it must be well," said Patience. "Cromwell had no right to give -what was not his own." - -There was a pause, then Agnes looked up and said quietly: - -"Jessie and I were looking through an old book which treated of the -estates and lands in Westmorland, and we found De Lisle Abbey. Henry -VIII seized it, drove the monks out, and gave it to a Sir Gilbert de -Lisle--not my father, but one long before him. So you see, Aunt -Patience, it was stolen land, and, what is worse, there was a curse upon -it; the De Lisles were to be driven out by fire and sword, and so we -have been. Let things be as they are, Aunt Patience, and let us live at -Holt Farm and be happy once again." - -"Do not think I wish for anything better, Agnes. It is for you, my -child," said Patience. - -"I'm sure I don't want it," said Agnes. "Let us go back as soon as we -can, Aunt. I have a sort of feeling that something dreadful is going to -happen." - -"That is because you are tired, and London is strange to you now," said -Patience. "Lie down and rest, then we will go out, and, as your heart -is set upon it, I will enquire about the Newbolts; they may be dead or -gone away from London." - -The knowledge they desired came to them quite unexpectedly. Martha was -by no means sorry to find herself amongst old acquaintances. She had -already been out and about, gossiping here and there. Amongst other -scraps of knowledge, she had learnt much concerning the Newbolts. Dame -Newbolt, she was told, always lived near Newgate. She was looked upon as -a guardian angel. "She works there night and day," they told her, -"preaching and teaching, and when the prisoners chance to come out she -succours them. Men and women alike worship the ground she treads on." - -"And Mistress Ann, her daughter, what has become of her?" Martha had -asked. - -"She lives in a mean lodging-house near the Old Bailey, over against -Newgate, and but for her, her mother would well-nigh starve. But -Mistress Ann will not suffer it; she makes her take her food, she -fetches her from the prison, and brings her home at night. They say her -devotion knows no bounds. She is never weary, never goes abroad save -once and again when my Lord Craven fetches her, and insists on taking -them both in his barge for a breath of fresh air, or driving them out -into the country beyond St. Giles'. My lord is as good to her as a -father. Ah, there are queer people in the world," said the speaker, -"but the queerest are sometimes the best, and my Lord Craven is one of -them. He has seen many things in his time, and has succoured many -people. I doubt much whether the Stuarts would have been able to hold -their own but for his gold." - -"Have you heard of Reginald, the colonel's son?" asked Martha. - -"Oh, yes; he comes and goes. He has joined Prince Rupert, and is half -the time at sea with the White Squadron." - -Primed with all this news, Martha hastened back to Somerset House, and -poured it all out afresh into the eager ears of Patience and Agnes. - -"Then we will go this afternoon and find Ann," said Agnes; "shall we, -Aunt Patience?" - -"She lives in a bad part of the town," said Martha. "There are rumours -that there have been some cases of the plague in the by-ways round -Newgate. It would be well to be careful. I know not how it is," -continued Martha, "but people seem anxious. There are men who go about -preaching that the times are so evil, that the Lord will sweep London -off the face of the earth because of its sins." - -"As for the plague, I do not think we need be alarmed," said Patience; -"there are always some cases in London, I am told. It only affects the -very poor and the unclean. Last year I remember Mr. Ewan telling me -that there were a few cases, just three, but it did not spread; the -winter checked it. No, I do not think we need be anxious; besides, it -would be of no use. What is to be will be. We shall not be long in -London, I hope." And with that the subject dropped. - -It was late in the afternoon when they sallied forth. Even then the -heat was so intense, and the air so dry, that they decided they would -take a barge and go down to Blackfriars, land there, and find their way -to the Old Bailey. Martha went with them, because she knew the way -better than they did. When they landed from the barge, it was but a -little distance across the Fleet until they gained the narrow streets -leading to the Old Bailey. - -On the summer night, with all the refuse of the day lying about waiting -for the night scavengers to pass their rounds, the stench which arose -from many a foul heap was noisome. - -Patience and Agnes held their kerchiefs to their faces. Fresh from the -sweet moors and the scented flowers, they were the more susceptible. - -"Fit for swine!" muttered Martha behind them. "Talk of the plague! The -dirt is enough to breed any amount of plagues." And she was right. It -was the dirt and uncleanliness which was about to cost thousands of -lives. For the last ten years the plague had been raging in Europe. In -Genoa 60,000 persons died of it; in Holland, in the years 1663 and 1664, -upwards of 50,000 people died of plague in Amsterdam alone; and yet -during all these years London had been singularly free. - -The origin of the plague has been much discussed. Some authorities -imputed its arrival in London to have been caused by bales of -merchandise from Holland which came originally from the Levant, where it -was quite usual to sell the clothes of those who had died of plague at -once, without disinfecting them; according to others, it was introduced -by the Dutch prisoners of war. In any case, we may attribute its spread -to the uncleanliness of London, which, we are told by contemporary -writers, was comparable to that of Oriental cities at the present day. -The disease gradually increased because there was everything to -encourage it to do so, especially in a squalid neighbourhood and among -the poor. For this reason it was called "the poor's plague". - -Those who lived on the river in ships or barges were free of it; those -in the houses on London Bridge were also little affected. Probably the -slowness with which it gained ground in London was owing in a great -measure to the beautiful streams of flowing water which intersected the -city--the Fleet, the Walbrook, &c. At all events, it was not until the -autumn of 1664 that a few isolated cases were observed in the -neighbourhood of St. Martin's, St. Giles', and Charing Cross. The -winter of that same year happened to be a very severe one, which checked -it, and nothing more was heard of the plague until this month of May, -1665. Then one or two cases were reported, but so few that they excited -but little attention; many, doubtless, of the inhabitants had not even -heard of them. - -Then, as now, such things were hushed up for fear of creating a scare, -so that with perfect equanimity Patience and her companion walked along -the very streets which were soon to be the centre of that terrible -epidemic. They came at last to the house which had been described to -Martha. It was at the top of the street, almost opposite Newgate, and -was entered by a low oak door which gave into a passage, beyond which -lay a court-yard, in which were outside staircases giving access to -wooden balconies leading into the tenements. Martha had been told that -Mistress Newbolt lived at the front, almost at the top of the house, and -that her rooms were reached by an interior staircase. So they stumbled -up in the dark, until at last they came to a landing in which was a -small window, which Patience was thankful to see wide open, but which, -on this hot evening, seemed, instead of cooling the air, rather to let -in heat and bad odours. - -The three stood wiping their faces, Martha panting. Suddenly a door -opened, and a voice, which Agnes recognized at once, said: - -"Who are you? What are you doing here? My mother is sleeping; you will -waken her." - -Agnes went forward instantly, threw her arms round the girl, saying: - -"Ann, do you not know me?" - -"Know you!" repeated Ann. "Is it Agnes or her spirit? Surely in her -body she would not come here, and yet how I have longed for her!" - -"Why should I not come, if you are here?" said Agnes. - -"You must go," said Ann. "Go quickly! I cannot let you in; I dare not. -My mother came home an hour ago. All day and all night she has been in -the prison. Do you know what I have done? I have taken her clothes and -burnt them, they were so foul. I stood for hours waiting for her outside -the gates, and when she came forth she dropped down like one dead, and I -carried her home in my arms. If you could see her, she is almost a -skeleton! Ah me! what will the end be?" And, covering her face with -her hands, she wept. - -"I will see her," said Patience. "We have come here to help you, Ann, -and we will help you, have no fear, child. Stay with Martha, Agnes. -Now, Ann, show me the way." - -Ann hesitated. "You do not understand," she said. - -"Then it is time I did," answered Patience. "Take me to your mother." - -As she spoke she looked at Ann. Could this be the same girl she had -known so fresh and blooming? She seemed to have grown taller, and her -face was sallow and thin; she might have been any age, she looked so -worn and anxious. She was scrupulously neat in a linen gown, with a -white apron and a muslin kerchief folded across her bosom; over her head -she wore a sort of linen wrapper, which hid all her hair, leaving only a -small band on either side of her forehead. She had adopted this dress -because she was able thus to keep herself clean amidst so much foulness. - -Agnes still held on to Ann, and pleaded! - -"May I not go too, Aunt Patience?" - -"No, my child, one of us is enough." - -Still she would not let go of Ann's hand. - -"Kiss me, dear," she said; and Ann stooped and kissed her. - -It was so long since any lips had touched hers that it brought tears to -her eyes. - -"Wait here," she said, "I will come back." And she passed into the room -with Patience. - -It is curious how, in times of great excitement, we see everything so -clearly; even the smallest details strike us. Patience noted that the -first room they entered was comparatively well furnished and spotlessly -clean. It was evidently the living room, with tables and chairs, a -dresser, and a few articles of luxury which had been brought from the -old home. They passed through this into another room, which served as -bed-room for Ann and her mother. There was a small fire in the hearth, -notwithstanding the great heat. Ann pointed to it. - -"The doctor told me to have it always, to purify the air," she said. - -A great four-poster bed of carved oak occupied the middle of the room. -It had once been curtained round, but the curtains were gone now, and -Patience saw, lying upon the white pillows, a face which might well have -been that of a dead woman. - -"Can it be Dame Newbolt?" she thought. The closed eyes were sunk in the -sockets; the features stood out sharp and hard, yellow as parchment; the -hair, parted on the forehead, was thin and snowy white; and the hands, -which rested on the coverlet, were like the hands of a skeleton. - -"Oh, Ann," exclaimed Patience, "how could you let her get into this -condition?" - -"How could I help it?" said the girl, bursting into tears. "I have -watched over her, I have fed her, I have stood outside the prison gates -waiting, always waiting, but she has paid no heed to me. Had it not -been for my Lord Craven I should have had no food to give her, for she -would spare me no money. I have known her go for days, eating nothing -but a crust of bread. More than once the jailers have brought her here, -carrying her in their arms. It was of no use, on the morrow she was up -and about, and with them again; even as you see her she has still great -strength." - -"It is wonderful," said Patience. - -Though they were speaking loudly, Mistress Newbolt did not hear them. -She did not move; indeed, one could hardly hear her breathe. - -"She will sleep like that for twelve hours at least," said Ann, "longer -perhaps; then she will wake up and eat what I shall have prepared for -her; then she will go back to the prison, and I shall not see her again -for perhaps twenty-four hours, when I shall bring her home, or one of -the warders will. It is a terrible life, so terrible, I wonder how she -lives at all." - -"And you, you poor thing?" said Patience, taking Ann's hand in hers, -then stooping over the sleeper she added, "She will die." - -"No, she will not," answered Ann. "Good Doctor Bohurst, whom Lord -Craven sent to visit her, says she will not die, that she has more -vitality than many a younger woman, and that these long sleeps restore -her completely, only I have to feed her. See," she continued, and going -to a table she took up a bottle, poured a little of the contents into a -spoon, and held it to her mother's lips. - -Without waking, she just sucked it down like a child. - -"There," said Ann, "in two hours I shall give it her again, and so on -until she wakes. Then she will eat and drink. It is a wondrous life." - -"How long has this been going on?" asked Patience. - -"For many months," answered Ann; "but of late it has been much worse, -for the prison is fuller than it ever was, and disease is rampant there. -Then," lowering her voice, she added, "they say there has been a case of -the plague. If it be so, and that foul disease break out within those -walls, God only knows what will happen! The prisoners themselves are in -terror of it. I think they will go mad with fright." - -"And you?" said Patience. - -"I try not to think of it," she answered quietly; "what is the use? -Come, let us go into the other room; Agnes may come in there, may she -not?" - -"If you think there is no danger," said Patience. - -"There is nothing infectious here," she said. "You see all the windows -are open, and either I burn my mother's clothes, or old Doris takes them -away and washes them." - -"Very well," said Patience, and Agnes and Martha were admitted. They -sat together round the tables and Ann learnt what had brought them to -London. - -"You would have done better to have stayed away," she said; "one never -knows what may happen, and there are strange signs in the heavens. -People say London is accursed, and will be destroyed because of its -great sin. Have you seen the comet?" - -"No, not yet," answered Patience; "I shall not linger long in London. I -wish we could take you away with us, Ann!" - -"How can I leave my mother?" she answered; "and Reginald is away." - -Her head drooped on her hands as she spoke; her spirit seemed broken. - -"Listen, Ann," said Patience, "I will come to-morrow with Martha and -fetch you out; you shall spend the whole day with us. We will go down -the river. You shall breathe sweet, country air; it will strengthen -you." - -"It will, indeed!" said Ann. "I think I am cowardly because I am so -much alone. But now you must be gone. It is getting late, and this -neighbourhood is not safe at night; indeed, you must not go back by the -river. Go to Holborn and find a coach there, so that you can be driven -back." - -Alarmed, Patience rose quickly. "Yes, we will go, Ann," she said; and -they made their way out, down the stairs into the street. They had not -gone far when they were accosted by a gentleman. - -"Madam," he said, looking at Patience, "this is no place for such as you -at this time in the evening." - -"I have just been told so, sir," said Patience, "but I am a stranger to -London. Cannot I procure a coach?" - -"No," he answered sharply. "Step this way; you shall have mine." - -Patience looked at him. - -"I thank you kindly, sir," she said, "but before I can accept your -offer, I must know who you are." - -"I am Lord Craven," he answered; "you can trust me." - -Without another word he walked on in front of them to the top of the -street, where a coach was waiting. He signed to the driver, who wore -the Craven livery. - -"My man will take you wherever you choose, madam," he said. - -"I would be driven to Somerset House," said Patience. - -He started and looked askance at her. She understood. - -"You gave me your name, I must give you mine," she said. "I am Mistress -Patience Beaumont and this young girl is Agnes De Lisle, my niece. We -are the queen-dowager's guests." - -Lord Craven uttered an exclamation of surprise and swept them a low bow. - -"I have been fortunate in meeting you," he said; "but take my advice and -do not wander out so late at night." - -"We have been to see a protege of yours," said Patience, "Ann Newbolt." - -"Ah, I am glad!" he answered; "she needs friends, poor thing." - -Then he signed to his valet to open the coach door, and helped Agnes and -Patience to mount, for the step was high. Martha followed, and they -were driven quickly in the direction of Somerset House. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *The Great Plague* - - -Again and again we read of miraculous signs in the heavens before some -great disaster befalls a country. A fiery sword is said to have hung -over the ill-fated city of Jerusalem for long months before its -destruction. At the time of which we are writing a great blazing star, -probably a comet, appeared in the heavens over the city of London, -terrifying the inhabitants. Crowds of people would turn out at night -into the open fields to see this wonderful thing, and would go back, -with terror in their hearts, feeling assured that it was an omen of -evil. Every night it appeared, a great, blazing star hanging in the -firmament. Gradually, very gradually, the plague crept into the city; -so slowly did it come, that only those whose business it was to note the -mortality were aware of the gradual increase of deaths. It began first -in the heart of the city, then it spread to the suburb of St. Giles'. -Just two or three isolated cases against which no precaution was taken; -indeed, they caused but little alarm. There are always pessimists, and -people do not heed them. A small evil, therefore, remains unchecked -until it becomes a great evil; then, and then alone, when it is too -late, men take note of it. Such was the case at the present time. At -Whitehall feasting and revelling were the order of the day throughout -this month of May. The king and his court were to be seen in St. -James's Park, gilded coaches rolled through the narrow streets of the -city, despite the overpowering heat. It was as if that blazing comet, -unseen by day, burnt the land up. The animals suffered fearfully: horses -fell down dead, dogs had to be killed because they went mad. Even -before the month of June streams were running dry, there was no rain, no -moisture in the air, and gradually, striking men down by ones and twos, -the scourge crept on, until at last people awoke to the knowledge that -the fell disease was in their midst. - -One morning Queen Henrietta summoned Patience to her. - -"I do not care for it to be generally known," she said, "but it is -settled that the court is going to Oxford. You, of course, will follow; -make your preparations as quickly as you can. We shall probably leave -here the day after to-morrow; it is to be done quietly not to scare the -people." - -"Is it necessary we should accompany your majesty?" said Patience. -"With your permission, I think we would rather go home." - -The queen turned haughtily towards her. - -"Why must you always oppose me, Patience?" she asked. "Why do you wish -to bury the child alive in that out-of-the-way place? The king is well -disposed towards her. The Marquis of Orford has spoken of her with -admiration. I am set upon making a marriage between them. If you do -not choose to come, at least give me the child." - -"I promised her mother I would never part from her," said Patience, "and -so far I have kept my word. If your majesty insists upon her going to -Oxford, I will go also." - -"Do you mean to say that you wish to keep her in this infectious -atmosphere?" said the queen. - -"Not longer than I can possibly help," answered Patience; "but your -majesty must know that the plague is confined so far to certain quarters -of the city. Here, on the river front, we run but little danger." -Then, approaching nearer Henrietta, she said in a low voice: - -"Will not his majesty's gay court at Oxford be worse for my child than -the plague? Is not her soul more precious than her body? and that -Marquis of Orford of whom you speak, is he worthy to touch the hem of -her gown? Nay, let her be, your majesty; sooner let her live and die a -maid than be coupled with such a man; and if she be doomed to die, then, -at least, let me give her back to her mother 'unspotted from the -world'." - -It was not often Patience let herself go, but at the present moment she -spoke with intense earnestness, almost with exaltation, and she -possessed more influence over Henrietta Maria than any other member of -her household. - -The queen kept silence, her head resting on her hands, and, to -Patience's surprise, tears fell on the table. She knew that she had hit -hard. The mother's heart was aching at the thought of her own daughter -whom she had given up to that bad man, Philip, Duke of Orleans. She -knew well what she suffered; could she condemn another girl to the same -fate! - -"Take her away, Patience," she said impetuously, "take her away, and may -the Lord have you both in His keeping!" - -Patience knelt at the queen's side. - -"Forgive me," she said, "if I have hurt you." - -The queen held out her hand. - -"Go," she said, "whilst I am in the mood, and do not let me see the -child again or I may repent giving her up to you." - -"That you will surely never do," said Patience, and, rising, she -curtsied and left the room. - -In her own mind Patience was sorely troubled how to act. To go back at -once to Westmorland would have been the most natural thing; but then -there was Ann Newbolt, how could she leave that girl alone in the worst -part of the city? She did not herself believe that there was much -danger for any inhabitant of Somerset House, because it gave on to the -river, and so far all the habitations near the river, even the houses on -London Bridge, had remained unaffected; also, the dwellers in ships and -barges had escaped infection. - -"If the worst come to the worst," she thought, "we will take the barge -and go down the river; but the great thing will be not to let the child -get frightened." - -Whilst she was still cogitating Martha came into the room. - -"Madam," she said, "everybody is leaving the palace; what are we to do?" - -"I have just come from the queen, Martha," said Patience. "She desired -me to pack our belongings and follow her to Oxford, whither she is going -with the court. What say you? Shall I do so? Shall I thrust Agnes -into the midst of all the profligacy and all the evil which dwells in -the king's house?" - -"For God's sake, no!" said Martha. "It is the talk of the court that -our young lady is to be wedded to the Marquis of Orford, but you will -not let it be. We servants know more of what goes on in the great houses -than you do, and he is not worthy of her; besides, she is only a child." - -"You are right, Martha," said Patience; "I will not let her go. I have -told the queen so, and she has consented that I shall keep her with me." - -"That is well," said Martha, her face brightening up, "only we must -guard her, for I have heard that the Marquis of Orford has set his heart -on wedding her, and the king has promised him the De Lisle estates, -forfeited by Colonel Newbolt. They were to have been sold at once to -the highest bidder to pay the fines and law expenses, &c., but the king -has been so engrossed with his pleasures that he has let the matter -slip. Now, however, he has made up his mind not to sell, but to dower -our Lady Agnes with what is by right her own." - -"How do you know all this?" asked Patience, surprised. - -"I know it from Peter Kemp, who is at Whitehall, and hears all the -gossip in the ante-chambers and in the servants' department; he also -knows Jefferson, Lord Orford's first valet." - -"Perhaps the king will change his mind now that I will not suffer Agnes -to go to Oxford," said Patience. - -Martha shrugged her shoulders. - -"We shall have to be careful," she said, "for the marquis is not a man -to be thwarted, and if he has set his heart on the Lady Agnes, he will -surely win or take her." - -"I think we had better start at once for Westmorland," said Patience; -"it seems to me the only place where we can live in safety." - -Martha shook her head. - -"That's just what he will expect you to do," she said. "And as he has -more horses than we have and more serving men, he will surely follow us, -and who will protect us on the road? There are many desolate places -between London and Westmorland." - -"Surely he would not dare assault us?" said Patience. - -"Ah, Madam!" said Martha, "he will stand at naught. If he has set his -heart on the Lady Agnes, he will leave no stone unturned to possess her. -You must devise some other plan for her safety." - -"I am loath to believe all you say; but leave me, Martha, I must think -it over." - -The following day the court started on its way to Oxford, and the queen -announced to the king that the Lady Agnes De Lisle would not accompany -her. - -"She is ailing," the queen said, "and she is rather young still for all -the dissipations of court life. Let my Lord Orford wait till the scare -of this plague is over. Patience Beaumont is going to take Agnes back -to Westmorland to restore her health, which the heat of London has -injured." - -"I never saw a brighter face than the Lady Agnes's yesterday," said the -king. "She was the star of your suite, ma mere. I do not think much -ails her." - -"Possibly she was flushed and excited," said the queen, "and Patience -has my permission to take her away. I cannot go back upon my word." - -"But I have not said the last word either," said Charles angrily, "and -my Lord Orford has had no say in the matter at all." - -"He had better let his suit drop for the present," said Henrietta; "when -we come back from Oxford it will be time enough." And with that she -left the room. - -Charles shrugged his shoulders; he never opposed his mother's will. - -When Lord Orford was informed of Agnes's defection he was in a white -rage, but he gave no outward sign of it, only that night he was closeted -for a long time with his man, Jefferson, and the next day he himself -followed the king to Oxford. - -The palace was very silent; indeed, the whole city of London was -beginning to be what we should call hushed. The plague was gaining -rapidly. The citizens stopped their trading, and every man looked with -fear at his fellow. - -In the gardens belonging to noblemen's houses, which in many cases -sloped down towards the river, the flowers were in full bloom. It was -the season for roses, and they had never been so plentiful, but no one -gathered them, for fear of infection, no one dared even to inhale their -sweet perfume; people went about with a bunch of rue and wormwood in -their hands, for these herbs were thought to ward off contagion; and yet -this was only the beginning of what was to be. - -There was a certain cruelty in the egoistical way in which men strove to -protect themselves. For example, if it was known that someone had died -in a certain house of the plague, no matter the number of the -inhabitants who were still resident there, a red cross was painted over -the door with these words in great letters over it, "Lord, have mercy -upon us!" and watchmen with halberds stood on guard before it to prevent -anyone either leaving the house or entering it. - -All the inhabitants of that house were thus shut off from the outside -world, lest they should carry infection; semi-starvation and death -therefore stared them in the face. This was in the early days. It was -a great mistake, for the houses were thus made the centres of disease; -later it was found impossible to carry this plan into effect, and it was -therefore openly ignored. - -A few noblemen and gentlemen had the courage to remain in London and -face the evil. Among these was Lord Craven. We are told that his -servants packed his luggage and brought his coaches into the court-yard -of his house; but to their dismay he told them they could go if they -chose, every one of them, but he should remain and do what he could to -stay the evil which surrounded them. - -"A man can die but once," he said. He had faced death ofttimes on the -battlefield, he was not going to turn his back on it now; and, brave man -that he was, he set about his work with diligence. He founded a kind of -cottage hospital for the plague-stricken in the Soho; he also gave a -piece of land for burial purposes in the same neighbourhood. He himself -remained at Craven House. - -A day or two after the court left London, Patience sent for him and told -him of her decision. - -"And now," she said, "I must get out of this place as quickly as -possible, for if anything happens to the child I shall never forgive -myself." - -"And yet," said Lord Craven, "this is the only place in which you are -free from the Marquis of Orford. I know the man. He is but watching -his opportunity; if he see you start to go north he will follow." - -"That is what old Martha said," answered Patience, "and she is a wise -woman." - -"She is right. Remain where you are for the present, keep the windows -open on to the river side by night and by day, and do not let the Lady -Agnes go abroad." - -"But she is so anxious about Ann Newbolt!" said Patience. "I found her -weeping yesterday because I would not let her go and would not go myself -to the Old Bailey." - -"You did well," said Lord Craven; "the disease is spreading from there -right up to St. Giles'. Rest assured I will bring you news of Ann as -often as I can. The authorities will not let her mother leave the -prison now because of infection. She spends her days, ay, her nights, -tending those wretched creatures, preaching to them of the world to -come, closing their dying eyes amidst the most frightful agonies, and -seeing to their burial." - -"And she lives through it all!" said Patience. - -"Yes, marvellous to tell, she lives through it all," he answered, "and -is but little changed. She seems to have no material body, to live in -and by the spirit. The poor creatures cling to her, and she has no fear -of them." - -"Is the plague very bad at Newgate?" asked Patience. - -"Bad!" said Lord Craven. "They carry the bodies out at night that they -may not be seen. What is worse, the poor creatures go mad with fear, -and can hardly be restrained from killing one another." - -"It is terrible," said Patience. "And Ann, what is she doing?" - -"She is in her own two rooms with that old hag who waits upon her, and I -have entreated her on no account to move out of it," said Lord Craven. - -"But if she came to us," said Patience, "surely that were better for -her!" - -"She will not hear of it. She says she would be too far from her -mother; now she can have news of her continuously. The old woman goes -backwards and forwards, and I go to her. So long as the plague does not -enter her dwelling-place, she will remain there." - -"And when it does it will be too late," said Patience; "they will not -let her out." - -"We shall see," said Lord Craven. - -At that moment Agnes came into the room. Except that she was very pale, -which might be attributed to the great heat, there was no change in her -appearance. She wore a thin, white linen gown, with long, open sleeves; -her beautiful golden hair was gathered up away from her neck because of -the heat, and she had sandals on her feet. - -"Oh, my lord," she exclaimed, "this is truly terrible! Why cannot we go -back to Westmorland and take Ann with us?" - -"Because, my child," said Lord Craven, "the roads just now are not -safe." He had to make some such excuse because she had not been told -anything concerning Lord Orford. - -"I thought the plague was in London, not on the roads," she answered -peevishly. - -"But there are other things besides the plague, my child," said Lord -Craven. "All sorts and kinds of people have left the city, bad as well -as good. We must let this first rush go by, and then you shall go. In -this heat you could not travel," he continued. "The horses could only -carry you a few miles at a time, evening and morning. It would take you -an infinitely long time to reach your haven of rest." - -"You call it by its right name," said Agnes; "If is a haven of rest. I -wish we were there, Aunt Patience." And she sat down on a stool beside -her aunt, laid her head on her lap with the air of a spoilt child, and -wept. - -"We will go as soon as ever we can," said Patience, stroking her hair; -"and now, see if you cannot find some of that fruit which we brought in -yesterday from the country. Lord Craven will, I know, take it to Ann. -It has been well covered up, so that no impure air can have reached it." - -Agnes sprang up, ran across the room to a cupboard, and drew forth a -basket in which there were some luscious strawberries, red currants, and -wall peaches. She packed them carefully in a little basket, and took -them to Lord Craven, with her pretty childish air, saying: - -"Tell Ann, with my dear love, that they are the only things worth -eating. I would she could come to me, as you will not let me go to -her." - -"She shall come to you as soon as possible," he answered, "but at -present she cannot;" and with that he rose, bade both Patience and her -farewell, and left them. - -"Let us go on to the terrace, aunt," said Agnes; "maybe we shall get a -breath of air from the river." So they went down the magnificent -staircase, through the gorgeous banqueting-hall, on to the terrace. - -Though the day was over and the sun had set, the heat was beyond -description. The whole city seemed to glow with the after-math. The -girl was tired, and quietly, without knowing it, she began again to -weep. - -"Oh Agnes, my child, what is it?" said Patience. - -"I don't know," she answered; "my soul is heavy within me. I am -afraid." - -Patience did not ask her what she was afraid of; she knew only too well -she was afraid of everything. She put her arm round her and talked to -her quietly of life and death. - -After a little time the child's soul was comforted, and Patience took -her by the hand and led her to her own chamber; as she could not sleep, -she sat with her far into the night, and only when the day was dawning -did she leave her. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *Lost* - - -Suddenly out of her sleep Agnes woke to full consciousness. She heard -distinctly the cry of the watchman call out three o'clock in the morning -as he passed his rounds. - -She turned her face to the window and looked out--the sky was blood-red. -A great horror seized her. She sprang out of bed and began putting on -her clothes. She hardly knew what she was doing. One door in her room -opened into Patience's, the other on to a landing leading to the grand -staircase. She felt she must have air--she could not stay in that -closed-up room; so, slipping her clothes on and wrapping a light cloak -round her, she drew the hood over her head and left the room. She had -not gone far when she was confronted by one of the watchers, men told -off to guard the queen's house. - -The sight of the girl walking about surprised him. He thought she must -be one of the maids and spoke to her coarsely, laying his hand on her -arm. Agnes wrenched herself free and ran, as she thought, in the -direction from which she had come; but she had mistaken her bearings and -found herself in a small turret-chamber at the farther end of the -passage, in which there was a winding staircase. - -At that moment the remembrance of Ann came to her. - -"They will not let me go to her, but I will go. I cannot stay here," -she thought; "I will go now at once. Surely this staircase must lead -somewhere!" And, feeling in the darkness, she groped her way to the -bottom, where a gleam of light came from a door which stood half-open. -She remembered having noticed this turret from the terrace one day, -when, to amuse herself, she had reconnoitred, and she had discovered -that it led out into a small courtyard. - -"I shall find means of getting out into the street," she thought, "and -then I can easily find my way to the Old Bailey." - -She was not mistaken; the staircase gave into a court-yard, at the -farther end of which was an iron gate. She had some difficulty in -forcing the bolt back and in pulling the gate open, but it yielded at -last, and, quick as lightning, she passed out into the street. She had a -sort of hunted feeling; she did not know herself what drove her to act -thus. She was as one walking in her sleep. She was not naturally a -coward, nor even fearful, but at the present moment a feeling of terror -dominated her whole being. - -When she found herself alone in the deserted streets she did not -hesitate; she went straight forward without reasoning, moved by some -inexplicable impulse. Here and there she saw the houses marked with the -red cross, with the words, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" written in red -letters over the doors, and she shuddered. - -"Supposing, when I reach Ann, I find her in such a house, and cannot get -to her!" she thought. - -She had gone some distance when she heard steps following her. She -dared not look back, but, hastening her speed, turned up the street -which led to the Old Bailey. The steps came nearer and nearer, and -suddenly she was caught up, a cloth thrown over her face, a hand pressed -over her mouth, and a voice said sharply: - -"Lie quiet and you are safe; move and I will kill you!" - -Instinctively she obeyed, and felt herself carried she knew not whither. - -When Patience awoke a few hours later from a restless sleep, her first -thought was naturally for Agnes. She rose, went into her room, and -found it empty. To call Martha, to rouse the whole house, was the work -of a few seconds. The house-watchman told how he had met a girl in the -gallery, and how at sight of him she had fled; he could not tell where -she had disappeared to, indeed, for aught he knew, it might have been a -ghost. There were ghosts in Somerset House. It was said that the young -Duke of Gloucester might be seen in the old building gliding along the -passages, down to the terrace walk. - -Patience had no such superstitions. If the man had seen a girl, that -girl, to her mind, must have been Agnes. But how could she have got out -of the house? Why should she go? In the search that followed, the door -of the turret was found open, also the gate in the court-yard. That was -sufficient proof that she must have gone out that way. - -A messenger was immediately sent to Lord Craven, and throughout that day -the search continued, but no Agnes was forthcoming. Through the -deserted streets Patience wandered, indifferent to all danger, searching -for the child. She went to Ann, and with tears told her what had -happened; and Ann came down, and they wandered together till they -reached St. Paul's. Then they entered the church, knelt, and prayed, -and wept, as did many others, for there was nothing but weeping and -moaning throughout this afflicted city. - -"She will come back, surely she will come back!" repeated Ann. - -"If she had gone forth of her own free will, I should say yes," Patience -answered; "but I am persuaded she has not done so. Someone was lying in -wait for her." - -Those who sought for Agnes were many, but it was all in vain. Martha -wept and wrung her hands in wild despair, but neither weeping nor -moaning nor prayers availed. Throughout that long summer day and the -night which followed, they sought but did not find her. Hour after -hour, day after day, the search was continued, but in vain. The plague -was ever on the increase. At night long lines of coffins were carried -hastily by men through the city out to some far-distant burial-place; -even that did not long suffice, and carts, with tingling bells on the -horses' heads, wound their way through the deserted streets, men calling -out as they went: - -"Bring forth your dead, bring forth your dead!" and the bodies, ofttimes -in nothing but a winding sheet, were tossed into the cart and carried -forth to the common pit. - -Ann still refused to go to Somerset House. She would not leave the -precincts of the prison, neither could Patience go to her. They waited -for their loved ones in their homes, and Lord Craven went and came -between them--he was their only comforter, their only guide. Never was -a braver or more honourable man; he had no fear of infection. He was -"in God's hands," he said, "to live or to die". - -All those who possibly could left the city. The streets were deserted, -but the churches were crowded. A few ministers remained faithful to -their duty, but many, to their shame, fled. But there were found other -devoted men from the country to replace these deserters, the churches -were all thrown open, and within their precincts was weeping and -wailing. "Surely the scourge was sent by God because of their sins," -people said, and their ministers bade them repent, ay, in dust and -ashes; therefore it came to pass that men and women alike fell upon -their faces and made their humble confession to Almighty God, praying -for pardon and deliverance. - -Still the disease continued to spread. The lord mayor, the chief -councillors, the physicians, all those in authority, made laws, saw to -the cleansing of the city, and did their very utmost to check the -frightful ravages of the plague, but throughout the month of August it -raged unremittingly. - -One morning a message came to Lord Craven from Newgate to say that -Mistress Newbolt had departed that night, that her last hours had been -most edifying, that she had sung and prayed, and glorified God even in -the agony of death. He it was who broke the news to Ann. In vain she -asked for a sign by which she might know it was her mother who had died. -The prison authorities answered it was impossible. All she had -possessed was destroyed, and she was carried forth and buried in the -common pit, amongst the malefactors, the thieves, the murderers, the -cut-throats, whom she had tended. - -Thus Ann found herself alone. Then she went to Patience and the two -dwelt together. - -"Why do you not both go north?" said Lord Craven. "I see no end to our -afflictions." - -"I cannot go," said Patience. "If Agnes were to come back and find me -gone, what would she do?" - -A message had been sent to the queen to tell her what had happened, and -her anger was very great against Patience. - -"If you had let me have the child, she would have been safe," she said; -"now she is dead, or worse than dead." - -Lord Orford, when he heard the news, appeared astounded. He would have -gone up to London himself, but the king would not permit him. - -"My Lord Craven will do all that there is to be done," he said. - - * * * * * - -"Well, sirrah, what have you done with her?" - -"The only thing which in reason could be done, my lord," answered a -small, insignificant man, almost a dwarf, who was known everywhere as -the Marquis of Orford's factotum. - -He was intensely ugly, with an extraordinary look of cunning in his eyes -when you saw them, but that was not often--they were small, with heavy -lids which were seldom raised, and if they were, it was with a sidelong -glance. He was standing now before Lord Orford in a room which that -nobleman had succeeded in hiring at Oxford, and for which he paid an -enormous price, for the town was crowded to excess, and yet was kept so -cleanly by the authorities that the plague had not come near it. The -lovely city with its colleges and chapels, the walks in the surrounding -country, the beautiful river upon which the boats went and came all day -long in gay succession, made of it a most delightful resort, and but for -the daily reports from London, the life led by the court would have been -ideal. - -"Give an account of yourself," said Lord Orford. - -"I set Ben Davies to watch his opportunity," said the man, "bidding him -never lose sight of the lady. Ben is a bargeman, and has a craft which -he takes from London Bridge to Holland or to France as he chooses. His -wife, two children, and a boy, live on board. It is by no means a bad -craft, and Mistress Ben is an uncommonly cleanly, thrifty woman, so I -just told him that if ever he could catch the lady and take her on -board, and then strike off to Holland with her, he might reckon on a -hundred pounds." - -"You did not mention my name?" said his lordship. - -"I'm not quite such a fool, though I look it," answered the man, with a -short laugh. "No; he thinks I am doing business on my own account. He -took it in good part. 'It's a service you're doing the lady,' I -explained; 'she has a whim for staying in London because of her lover, -but it's a pest-hole, it will be a good deed if you can get her out.' -And so he watched and watched, and one morning at dawn, as he was -passing by Somerset House, he saw a girl come running out and making her -way down the Strand. There was no one else to be seen, the streets were -deserted, so he dodged her to find out who she was, and as good luck -would have it, her hood fell back from her face, and he saw that it was -none other than the Lady Agnes I had pointed out to him one day. Then -it was all quickly done: he caught her up, took her in his arms, and, -muffling her face, carried her down to the barge. It was in the Old -Bailey he got her." - -"And where is she now?" asked Lord Orford. - -"Coasting about, maybe on her way to Holland," said the man. "At all -events she is out of that pest-hole; you ought to be satisfied, my -lord." - -Lord Orford walked up and down the room. - -"Have you any further orders, sir?" asked the man. - -"Only that I have been a fool. I should have done better to have left -her alone," said the marquis; "the queen's moving heaven and earth to -find her." - -"Ah well, sir!" said the man, "when the plague's over we can drop her at -Somerset House again--she will be none the wiser. And Ben Davies's wife -will keep her comfortable; she'll take no harm." - -"But that does not answer my purpose," said Lord Orford. "I wanted to -marry her, and I see very little likelihood of doing so under present -circumstances." - -"Oh, you can marry her right enough!" said his factotum. "You just tell -her you did it for love, to save her life. Girls are soft. Now will -you pay me the money? These sort of folk won't wait, you know." - -"I suppose not," said the marquis, "but I have precious little coin; -however, what I have you shall have." And, putting his hand in his -pocket, he took out a bag of money and threw it on the table. - -"Count and see how much there is," he said. - -The dwarf emptied the bag on the table, and with his long thin fingers -counted the gold. - -"There are ten pieces missing," he said. - -"Then you must find them," answered the marquis, "for I am sucked dry." - -"I suppose I must put it down to your account," said the man; "it's -already a pretty long one." - -"I was reckoning on the girl's dower to pay it up," answered Lord -Orford, "so you see it's as much to your interest as mine that I should -have her. You know she is sole heiress of the De Lisles, and the king -dowers her." - -The dwarf stuck his tongue into his cheek and muttered, "That's not much -of a recommendation." - -"Well, you run a risk and so do I; it is for you to make the matter -sure," said Lord Orford. - -"I can't make her say 'Yes' if she says 'No'," grumbled the dwarf. - -"I'm of opinion you have done wrong in carrying her off to Holland. I -never bade you do so. I told you to hide her away," said Lord Orford. - -"Sure she'd have got the plague if I had not sent her to sea," answered -the dwarf. - -"I only wish we could get her into the queen's hands," said Lord Orford, -"that would settle the matter." - -"If that's all you want, it can be easily managed," answered the dwarf; -"leave it to me." - -"I must, for I can't help myself," muttered Lord Orford. "Now get you -gone; I'm sick of you." - -The man shuffled the gold into his pockets, and with a "Good-day, sir!" -went his way. - -When the dwarf was gone, Lord Orford paced up and down the room, -muttering between his teeth: - -"Gone to Holland! How am I to get at her there? The fool was mad to -imagine such a thing. If it leaks out that I have had a hand in this -business, it will be to my discredit, unless, as the fool advises, I say -I did it out of my great love for her, to save her from the plague; but -it will cost me a hundred pounds and more, perhaps, for hush-money. -However, matters must take their course now. They'll not land in -Holland at present, for no barge from London will be allowed to put into -port; in the meantime I can consider what is to be done." And with the -natural carelessness which belonged to the habitues of Charles II's -court, he strove to forget the matter altogether. - -Weeks went by and he was surprised at having no news from his factotum. - -It was not until his return to London with the court that he learnt that -the man had died of the plague. - -So as far as he was concerned the matter ended. Later, seeing the course -events took, he was too wise a man to rake up ugly stories. The dwarf -dead, there was only the bargeman to reckon with, and he was ignorant -even of the existence of my Lord Orford. So the bubble burst, and he -had to look about for another bride to pay his debts! Besides, Reginald -Newbolt was now Prince Rupert's friend, and it was therefore unlikely he -would be dispossessed of his estates even for Lady Agnes De Lisle. The -wheel of fortune had turned. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *On the Track* - - -Pestilence on land, battle on the seas! The jealousy between the -English merchants and the Dutch was a matter of long standing, and on -both sides there had been a clamouring for war. It came in due time. - -On the third of June, just when the plague was at its height, the Duke -of York encountered the Dutch fleet off Lowestoft. A terrible battle -took place. It is said that eight or ten thousand men were killed and -eighteen ships blown up--this was on the Dutch side; but on the English -side also there were many disabled ships and many wounded men cast -ashore. Had the English admiral chosen, he might have followed the -Dutch up in their flight, and the war would have come to a speedy end, -but instead an order came from the Duke of York to slacken sail, and so -the Dutch escaped to Texel. The neglect and misery of the seamen of the -royal navy, who were cast ashore to go where they would, without money, -food, or clothing, was piteous. A great number found their way to -London, thinking that there, at least, they would get their pay from the -admiralty, but there was no money to be had for the arrears of payment. -The Commons had voted the king a large sum for war expenses, and he had -squandered the whole of it on his own pleasures. - -The result was that these men, to whom England owed her safety, lay -about the streets and in hovels, and many of them died of the plague. - -Reginald Newbolt had enlisted under Prince Rupert. He was not in this -fray because Rupert's squadron had sailed to the West Indies. When the -news of the plague reached Reginald, he had written entreating his -mother to go to Newbolt Manor for her own safety and for Ann's, but -naturally he received no answer, and knew little or nothing of the -events which were taking place. He had risen to high favour with the -prince, for on many occasions he had distinguished himself, and was -always at hand when there was any deed of daring to be accomplished. -Indeed, he and Prince Rupert agreed in many ways, and Reginald's natural -good sense served as a check on the hastiness of the almost pirate -prince. Rupert had found there was little doing save pleasure at King -Charles's court, and for that reason he entered the navy, and made for -himself a name as the admiral of the White Squadron. Every man in those -days was a lord himself on the high seas, and any ship which did not -hoist the English colours was a legitimate prey to the numberless pirate -vessels which floated here, there, and everywhere. Many merchant -vessels disappeared with their cargoes of wealth, and no questions were -asked. - -It was a wild life and a daring one; but when Rupert heard of the war -with the Dutch, and a possible war with the French, he set sail for the -west. Neither he nor Reginald had any idea of the ravages the plague -was making until they neared England, and then the accounts were so -horrible that Rupert refused to allow any man to land. - -It was in vain that Reginald, as they sailed along the coast, entreated -to have a small boat and be allowed to go ashore by himself. The prince -was firm, and all knew his discipline was severe. - -"If you attempt to go I will have you put into irons," he said to -Reginald; and he was certain the Prince would be as good as his word, so -he was obliged to be satisfied with writing to Lord Craven and to Ann. -But his letters never reached their destination. - -Before he left England Agnes had gone north, he knew not whither; the -secret had not been told him, and he had been greatly hurt, but now he -was glad, for he was assured of her safety. So the days went by, and -throughout the months of July and August the terrible scourge laid -thousands low; but in the beginning of September it began to lessen. -Many people had left the city and were encamped outside it, but Patience -and Ann had remained in Somerset House, and had even gone forth amongst -the sufferers and tended them. Their good works, their many deeds of -charity, had made them well known. Without ceasing, using every means in -their power, they had sought to trace Agnes, but in vain. - -They were assisted in this by young Delarry, who, when he had heard of -Agnes's disappearance and Mrs. Newbolt's death, had returned to London -and sought Ann and Patience. - -"You cannot remain here," he said. "Let me take you away out of London, -if it be but to a village in the suburbs." But Patience had refused to -go, and Ann remained with her. - -"If the child be still living," said Patience, "it is here she will come -to find us. I am persuaded Lord Orford is at the bottom of this thing. -He knows who Agnes is; he knows that the De Lisle property will be hers, -and he himself is a beggar. The queen told me as much." - -"But he has gained nothing by her disappearance, and I know for sure he -has not heard of her whereabouts," said Delarry. - -"I think you are wrong there," said Patience; "he knows where she is." - -"We must find that out," said Delarry. "Now I have come to London I -cannot go back to Oxford; I am in quarantine! As for the Lady Agnes, I -fully believe she has been taken out of the city and is in safety. No -one has any interest in her death; on the contrary, her life is -valuable, and, believe me, she will not be attacked." - -With this Patience had to be satisfied. The devotion and the bravery -which Ann showed under these trying circumstances excited not only -Delarry's admiration, but increased the feeling of devotion which had -long existed in his heart for her. - -She was so simple and so brave, so devoutly religious. Morning and -evening, and ofttimes at mid-day, he would meet her on her way to St. -Paul's, and they would go together and pray for the deliverance of the -nation, and listen to the preachers, who upbraided men for their sins -and besought them to repent. It is not surprising if the link between -them grew to be strong, and so one day, finding himself alone with her -on the terrace, he asked her to be his wife. - -"Then I shall have a right to do what I will for you," he said, "in life -or in death." - -"This is no time for marrying or giving in marriage," answered Ann. - -"Why not," he asked, "if it unites two souls in good works? You are so -utterly alone, having neither father, nor mother, nor brother, no kith -or kin. I ask your leave to be all things to you. I have no need to -tell you that I love you; I prove it by my desire to serve you." - -The tears gathered in Ann's eyes. - -"Truly you have given me the best proof of love a man can give," she -answered. - -Her hand was resting on the stone parapet; he laid his on it. - -"Well," he said, "which is it to be? yea or nay?" - -Ann looked up at him; a glint of Irish mirth, which she had not seen for -many a day, lighted up his eyes, She was tempted to say "Yea", but she -still hesitated. - -"I will give you your answer to-night," she said, "after vespers. Now -let us go and find Patience." - -[Illustration: "I WILL GIVE YOU YOUR ANSWER TO-NIGHT," SHE SAID] - -"As you will," he answered; but he took her hand, placed it on his arm, -and they went together to Patience's room. - -At the door Delarry left her. - -"Till to-night," he said. - -Ann went in to Patience, and, standing at the open window looking over -the deserted city, she told her what Delarry had said. - -"What think you?" asked Ann. - -"I think," said Patience, "that life is so short, that if something -comes to gladden our hearts we do well to accept it. This thing is a -joy to you, is it not, Ann?" - -"To be George Delarry's wife? Oh, yes!" answered Ann, and her face -flushed. - -"Then take him," said Patience, "and thank God." - -So that same evening, as she came down the steps of St. Paul's, her hand -sought Delarry's, and he knew what his answer was. - -To find a minister, to go in the early morning to plight their troth one -to another, with only Patience and Lord Craven as witnesses, was an easy -matter, and did not interfere with the work of the day which followed -after; only, as Patience had said, some of the sadness passed out of -their hearts, and joy crept in. The knowledge of the tie which bound -them, the union of two in one, seemed to strengthen both their hands and -hearts for the work they had to accomplish. - -It was decided that they should stay at Somerset House with Patience -because of that hope, which was nevertheless growing vaguer and vaguer -each day, that Agnes would come home. - -A few days later Delarry came in quite excited. He found Patience and -his young wife picking lint, making bandages, and doing other things -which were necessary for their vast hospital. They never stopped their -labours, those two women, but when Ann looked up with a smile to greet -her husband, she saw something in his face which startled her. - -"What has happened?" she asked. - -He came and sat down beside her. - -"I have found a clue," he said. "It is only a little one, but it may -lead to something bigger." - -"About Agnes?" asked Patience. - -"Well, I suppose it is connected with her," he answered. "I have -followed up your idea of Lord Orford being at the bottom of this affair, -and just now I met a creature I loathe sauntering down the Fleet." - -"Who?" asked Ann. - -"The Marquis of Orford's factotum," he answered, "a scurvy little -rascal, with a mind as crooked as his body. He is not full-grown, a -dwarf, or very nigh one, with a growing hump and an evil countenance. I -accosted him and asked him where his master was. - -"'Where should he be,' he answered, 'save in his master's company at -Oxford?' - -"'And why are you not with him?' I asked. - -"'Since when, Mr. Delarry, are you my master's keeper?' he answered. 'I -am Lord Orford's servant, not yours.' - -"'I'll keep my eye upon you until I find you out in some dark deed,' I -answered, 'and then I'll get you hanged.' The man turned white to his -lips, and even as I spoke to him there came up another man from behind, -a bargeman. I know him, because he happens to have taken me up to -Gravesend more than once. When he saw me talking to that little imp, he -turned suddenly and went back the way he had come. - -"'I wish you good morning,' said the dwarf, 'there's Ben Davies waiting -for me.' - -"I fired a shot at random: 'Is he in the plot?' I asked. - -"'What plot?' he shrieked. - -"'I'll leave you to tell me that,' I answered, 'only I warn you, if you -brew evil you shall swing for it.' Therewith I went off and left him to -digest my words, the real meaning of which I do not myself know." And -he laughed. - -"Oh, George," said Ann, "you may be all wrong! How could they know -anything about Agnes?" - -"How can I tell? The clue is faint, but there is a connection." - -"You are right," said Patience. "I shall always believe Lord Orford is -at the bottom of it." - -"So shall I," answered Delarry; "at all events, we will follow that -track." - -Towards the middle of August Patience received by special messenger a -letter from the queen. - -"I am deeply grieved ", she wrote, "at having no news from you. My own -health is failing, my life here does not please me. I am of no account -at my son's court, therefore I have decided that I will go back once -more to France, where I may possibly be of some use to my daughter, and -where the climate at least suits me. If all things go well, I shall -return to England in the spring. In the meantime, send me news of -yourself and Agnes, but not while you are in London, lest your letter -should carry contagion. I cannot understand why you remain in the city. -I much fear me the child is dead, and probably cast, as so many others I -hear are, into the common pit. I have wept many tears over her; but then -this world is a world of sorrow, at least it has proved itself so to me. -England is a dreary place; I would I could persuade you to join me and -spend the rest of your life at my side, for I have loved you and your -sister better than any other of my English so-called friends. I had a -letter from the little duchess a short time since. She is well, and her -child is well. She does not speak of her husband--it is not worth -while, we know what he is--but she takes life philosophically, and the -King of France makes much of her. She wrote very sadly concerning -Agnes, blamed both you and me for letting her remain in London; but, as -you know, it was not my fault, but your will. - -"I trust you will come safely out of the great dangers which surround -you, and that we may yet meet under happier circumstances. Commend me -to my Lord Craven and to George Delarry. I am glad they are with you, -for I am sure they will be helpful. My Lord Orford is still here, but -his humour is not of the best. He feels he has been cheated of his -bride, and I think he is in money difficulties; he reckoned on Agnes's -dower to set him straight. - -"Now farewell, my good Patience. I shall keep you in my remembrance. -Your ever faithful friend and mistress, HENRIETTA MARIA, R." - -In a postscript the queen had added: - -"I have spoken to the king concerning you, and he has decided that you -are to continue to occupy, as long as you choose, your present apartment -in Somerset House." - -Patience read the letter sadly. She had never been blind to the queen's -faults, but she had both loved and pitied her, and this farewell letter -was the breaking of another link. - -She folded the letter and put it with her private papers, among the -things of the past. - - * * * * * - -Throughout the months of August and September the plague raged in -London, then it gradually died out, and the court ventured to return to -Hampton Court, until, in the month of December, there was so little fear -of contagion that the king took up his residence again at Whitehall; and -indeed all those who had left the city crowded back as thick as they had -fled. The empty houses were thrown open, the grass which had grown in -the streets was once more trodden under foot, and to all intents and -purposes the ordinary life of the city was renewed. - -It is wonderful how soon people forget, how ready everyone is to fall -back into the old routine. Such was the case now. There were many -empty houses. Some families had been swept clean away, and in others -there were vacant chairs; but those who remained had still to live, and -though hearts were sore and many longed "for the touch of a vanished -hand, and the sound of a voice that is still", they had to gather up the -threads of life and live their new lives, bare and empty though they -seemed to them at first, until, from beneath the deep clouds which -overhung them, they caught the glimpse of a silver lining. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *A Great Sea-Fight* - - -As the plague died out in England, and life resumed its ordinary course, -the war with the Dutch threatened to be more formidable than ever, for -the French king made common cause with the Dutch. The great Admiral de -Ruyter came out of the Texel and made straight for England with a -splendid fleet of eighty-four ships. They were to be joined by the -French fleet from the Mediterranean, consisting of thirty more ships. - -Wholly unsuspicious of what was taking place, the English admiral, Monk, -now his Grace of Albemarle, awoke one summer's morning to find to his -great surprise that the Dutch fleet was lying at anchor half the channel -over. Prince Rupert should have been with him, but with his usual -impatience of inaction, he had steered westward with his White Squadron, -therefore Albemarle had but sixty vessels, great and small, with which -to face the enemy, but nevertheless, with English pluck, he gave the -signal to attack. - -"He would neither wait for the weather nor Prince Rupert," he said. - -There was a great south-west wind, which blew the English ships straight -upon the Dutch, who were surprised at the suddenness of the attack, and -had not so much as time to weigh anchor, but cut their cables and made -their way back to their own shore. - -Everything was against the English. Their ships were so laid down by -the gale that they could not open their lower port-holes to leeward, -whereas the Dutch, facing them with their broadsides to windward, had -the free use of all their tiers of guns. A terrible fight ensued. Monk -had followed the Dutch to Dunkirk, but being forced suddenly to tack, -his topmast came to grief, and he was obliged to lie to. - -It were in vain to tell here of the gallant deeds done alike by Dutch -and English. It was a fight for the supremacy of the seas. Many of the -English officers had protested against the unequal attack made upon them -by the Dutch. "A mad fight" it is called in history. The English -suffered severely; many of their ships were sunk, some were taken, and -nearly all those which came into action were ruined in their masts and -rigging by the chain-shot, a new invention. - -So night fell; but on the morrow Monk resumed the conflict, and all day -long the English fought against a far superior force. Another night -fell and another day dawned--the third day of carnage--and the fight was -renewed; but now Monk fought retreating, and after removing the men from -some of the disabled ships, he caused them to be burnt. - -Where was the White Squadron? Where was Prince Rupert and his brave -men? On the first day of the battle the prince had stopped on his -westward course, intelligence having reached him that the Dutch were at -sea. - -To put back, to make for Dover, was speedily done; but when he reached -the Downs he heard no sound of battle, nor could he obtain any -information concerning the enemy. Reginald was beside him, and together -they strained their ears to catch the least sound. At last, on the 3rd -of June, heavy cannonading was heard. Instantly the prince spread his -flying canvas to the wind. - -He came up just in time to save Monk. All day they fought, and all the -following day also. How any man survived to tell the tale is -marvellous. In the beginning of their second day the _Prince Royal_, -esteemed the best man-of-war in the world, struck on a sand-bank, and -was taken by the Dutch. It seemed as if nothing human would stop the -fighting and the carnage; only God's hand could stay it. - -Suddenly there arose and enveloped both fleets a thick and impenetrable -fog. The guns were silenced and the slaughter ceased. When it lifted, -the Dutch fleet was in full retreat, and the English were too disabled -to follow them. Victory or no victory, it had been a cruel experience. -It was called an English victory, and thanksgivings were ordered. - -Truly we had reason to thank God that we had not lost our whole fleet. - -Monk and Prince Rupert from henceforth remained close together, and when -De Ruyter again put to sea with a stronger force than ever, they went -out together to meet him, and drove him back in rage and despair to the -Texel. Then the English scoured the Dutch coast, burned and destroyed -two ships of war and one hundred and fifty merchantmen, and laid two -defenceless villages in ruins. - -It was in vain that some brave English officers tried to prevent this -last deed of savage warfare. They could not do so; the anger of their -men, their thirst for blood, was in the ascendant. - -In the hope of stopping the carnage, Reginald, now commander, besought -Rupert to let him land, believing that by his presence he might bring a -certain amount of discipline to bear upon the excited sailors, but he -accomplished little. He was standing in the midst of a group of men -when he caught sight of two women, one with a child in her arms, trying -to make their way along the bank of the canal towards a barge which was -floating still uninjured on the water. Two half-drunken sailors were -pursuing them. - -To shout to them to desist Reginald knew would have been useless, so -with quick strides he caught them up, seized one man by the neck and -threw him to the ground, threatening the other with his sword. The men -recognized their officer, and muttering an excuse kept quiet. The two -women, exhausted, had sunk on the ground, unable to go a step farther. -Reginald went up to encourage them; the youngest woman, a mere girl, -sprang to her feet. - -"Save us," she cried, "save us!" - -Then she stopped short, for, notwithstanding his changed appearance, she -recognized their deliverer and cried out: - -"Reginald Newbolt!" - -"My Lady Agnes!" he answered, and, kneeling before her, he seized her -hand. - -The sense of safety relaxed the tension on her nerves, and she would -have fallen had he not caught her in his arms. - -"How on earth did she come here?" he exclaimed, addressing himself to -the woman who was with her. - -"No time to ask that now," was the answer; "for God's sake, carry her to -yonder barge!" - -Without hesitation Reginald proceeded to obey. He noticed how light she -was and how thin too the face was which rested on his shoulder. For a -second he almost doubted whether it could be Agnes, the girl who had -skated so merrily with him on the lake at Hampton Court. - -It was a good ten minutes before they reached the barge. The woman had -run on in front, slipped down the bank, and, notwithstanding the weight -of the child in her arms, had leapt into the barge. Reginald followed -her example. - -"We must put off," she said, "or the soldiers will be after us." - -"There is no fear whilst I am with you," said Reginald, as he laid Agnes -down on a wooden bench. "Get some water." But it was not needed, for -of herself Agnes opened her eyes, and, seeing Reginald stooping over -her, a smile of wonderful sweetness lighted up her face, and, holding -out her hands to him, she said: - -"I am so glad, so glad!" - -He could not answer her, but, taking both her hands in his, he kissed -them, not once but thrice. She blushed rosy red and sat up. - -"Is it not wonderful," she said, "wonderful that you should save me?" - -"Yes, it is wonderful--God's will," said Reginald; "but how on earth are -you here? I thought you were in England, up north somewhere." - -"I wish I could get there now," said Agnes, tears filling her eyes, "But -you will take me, take me now at once!" - -"How can I?" he said. "There is war on land, and war on sea, and I am -not my own master. But tell me quickly how you came here at all." - -"Jeanne, tell him; I do not remember," said Agnes. - -"My lord," said the woman, "I cannot tell you much. My husband brought -her to me one night. He told me to keep her safely, for she was worth -much money to him. He had been paid to find her and bring her out of -London from the midst of the plague by a person he knew of, a dwarf, the -servant of some great lord. We presumed he was her lover." - -"I had no lover," said Agnes indignantly; "I do not know who the man -could be. This is all I can remember: I was very miserable; Ann had -gone into a poor house, and I was alone with Patience in Somerset House. -The plague was getting worse each day, and I was frightened. One night -I went to sleep and woke up, and the whole place was red as if in -flames. Patience had been sitting beside me when I fell asleep, but she -was gone, and I was frightened. I got up, and somehow I found myself in -the streets. They were quite empty, I saw nobody. I will go to Ann, I -thought; she will take me in, and I ran as fast as I could. It seemed -to me that I heard steps behind me, but I dared not look round. -Suddenly I felt myself caught up, my breathing stopped, and I remember -nothing more until I found myself alone with this good woman on this -very barge." - -"And she was like mad," said Jeanne. "I could not quiet her, I could -not keep her still; my husband had to threaten her. 'You are quite -safe,' he said, 'if you will keep quiet.' But she cried so bitterly and -called out so loudly that he was fearful others would hear her, so he -shoved out into the middle of the river; we kept afloat for several days -up and down; but she knew nothing of what went on, for she never -recovered her senses. She was stricken with a terrible fever of the -brain, which lasted well-nigh two months. At first she made much noise, -but at last she was quite still. Once only my husband landed and got to -London. He came back with much money; he told me it was his reward for -saving the girl. I took all the care I could of her. We put out to sea -and came over to Holland, hoping to do some business, as we always -did--the shipping of wood and various other sorts of merchandise--but we -did nothing because of the plague and the war which followed, so he put -us ashore in this little village, and he went to and fro picking up what -odd jobs he could. Happily we had that money, and my husband told me -that if he could get to England he would have much more, for he had -received only half what had been promised to him. But we managed to -live, and I did what I could for her." - -"Ay, indeed she did; she has been very good to me," said Agnes. "I was -ill a long, long time, and she nursed me well and kindly, and always -promised, 'as soon as we can we will go back to England', for I told her -who I was, and that I felt sure a mistake must have been made, that no -one wanted me, that I had been safe with Patience. Both she and her -husband think also there must have been a mistake, only, the man who -gave him the business to do took him several times to Somerset House and -pointed me out to him. Is it not strange, Reginald?" - -"Very," he answered; "I do not understand it at all." - -"Do you know what Ben Davies was told the last time he saw his -employer?" said Agnes. "That it was not only because of the plague that -I was removed, but because I was a great heiress, and that my estates -had been stolen from me, that the people who now held them wanted to get -rid of me, but that there was a man who loved me, and wished to save -me." - -"And you believed him?" said Reginald. - -"No, I did not," she answered, "because you see I am Agnes De Lisle and -you are Reginald Newbolt, and Newbolt Manor is De Lisle Abbey, and I -knew you would not hurt me." - -"If I had only known it!" he said. "I would to God I had!" - -"Well, you know it now," she answered, "and you can take me home." - -"I wish I could," he answered, "but I am not going home myself. To whom -can I trust you?" - -"I have waited so long," said Agnes, "I can wait a little longer, and -until you are ready I can stay with Jeanne. I am not afraid of her." - -She had risen and was standing before him. He almost laughed as he -looked at her in her quaint Dutch dress, short petticoats and sabots, -and on her head a little tight cap which could not hide the golden hair -curling about her face. Ah! she was very pretty and very young, a pale -white shadow of the Agnes of olden days; but to him the very sadness of -her sweet face added to its beauty. She had been all smiles and -dimples; now one had to watch, for the smiles and the dimples were gone. - -He left her standing, and walked twice round the deck of the little -barge; then he came back to her. - -"I think you are wise," he said; "remain with Jeanne; only you must go -farther up the canal. It is not safe for you to stay here. Where is -the woman's husband?" - -"We do not know; we thought he would have come back before this," said -Agnes. "Perhaps he is killed!" - -Jeanne, hearing this, began to weep. - -"Oh no, the good God would not afflict me so!" she said. "If we did -wrong in taking the money our eyes were blinded, and we did not know. -Surely we shall not be punished!" - -"Your husband did wrong," said Reginald severely. "It is quite certain -no man has a right to kidnap a girl; but you have been kind to her, and -that will stand you in good stead. Tell me how I can find your -husband." - -"If I only knew!" said Jeanne. - -Even as she uttered the words, a man came running along the side of the -canal. - -"Ah, there he is!" said Jeanne, clapping her hands; "thank God!" And -she took the kerchief off her neck and waved it to him. - -When he came near, and was about to leap into the barge, he saw the -English officer and hesitated. - -"Come on!" said Reginald. - -The man obeyed, and in a minute more stood in front of him frowning -deeply. - -"What does he here?" he whispered to his wife. - -"He has saved our lives, and he is the little lady's friend," she said. - -"I have heard your story," said Reginald, looking at him severely, "and -it is by no means a creditable one. For a sum of money you could kidnap -a girl and carry her away. Do you know it is a punishable offence?" - -"I know it," answered Ben Davies, "and I ran the risk. There was no -work going, and we were reduced to our last coin. I never meant any -harm should happen to her. I was told it was to save her from the -plague and from a bad man who would despoil her." - -"She is the queen's ward," said Reginald, "and I am the man who would -despoil her." - -The bargeman doffed his hat. "I am in your hands, sir," he said, "to do -as you will with me, but I pray you to remember that we have given her -the best we could, and my wife has nursed her by night and by day." - -"That shall go to your account," said Reginald severely; "in the -meantime, what are we to do now?" - -"I would have taken her to England long ago if I could," said Ben, "but -you know the high seas have been impossible for little crafts like mine. -We should have been made prisoners, and goodness knows what might have -befallen us." - -"There you're right," said Reginald; "but is there no place of safety -farther inland where you can go for the present until I can arrange to -take my Lady Agnes home?" - -"Yes, higher up away from the sea; we were going there," answered Ben -Davies. - -"Then I think you had better go," said Reginald. "I am on Prince -Rupert's ship, and I will tell his highness what has happened." - -Agnes clapped her hands. "Ah, Prince Rupert will remember me!" she -said. "He has known me always. I saw him last at my Lord Craven's. He -is a great friend of mine." - -"Rest assured he will see you righted," said Reginald. "What is the -name of the village you propose taking her to?" said Reginald, turning -to the barge-man. - -"It is off the great canal," he said, "and therefore safe;" and he named -a little village unknown to Reginald. "It is not far. I can take them -there to-night and be back here to-morrow for you, sir, if you choose to -visit it." - -"Are you sure they will be quite safe there?" he asked. - -"Quite safe," he answered. "My father was an Englishman, my mother is a -Dutch woman. She lives there; I will take them to her." - -"Will this suit you, Lady Agnes?" asked Reginald. - -"Quite well," she answered, "if you think it right; but why do you call -me my Lady Agnes? I am not so; I am simply Agnes Beaumont De Lisle;" and -there was just a touch of pride as she spoke the last name. - -Reginald smiled. "Then I will leave you," he said, "until to-morrow, -when I hope we shall be able to manage something for your return home; -but it will be difficult. We cannot take you on our battleships," he -said, smiling. - -"Why not?" she asked. "I should not be afraid. I can never understand -why I was so frightened the night I was lost; I must have been ill. -Have you heard anything of Aunt Patience or of Ann?" - -"Nothing," answered Reginald. "You know I left home immediately after -my father's death, and I have not been back since. I have been -wandering half over the earth, or rather the seas, and communication is -not easy. But we shall hear soon now," he said. - -"Alas, if they have died of the plague!" said Agnes; "what shall I do? -It was awful when I was there!" - -"We will hope not; we must not look on the black side of things. Let us -trust we shall find them safe and well," answered the young man. - -"Patience will have grieved sorely for the loss of me," said Agnes. - -"Well," said Reginald, "'joy cometh in the morning', and now I must -leave you, or I shall be reported missing. Farewell; may God be with -you!" - -She smiled up at him, holding out her hand. - -"Everything is coming all right," she said. "I am well content." - -"So am I," said Reginald, "but I am loath to lose sight of you even for -a time." - -"Sir, I will answer for it, no harm shall come to her," said Jeanne. - -"Thank you, my good woman!" said Reginald; and he would have put a piece -of money in her hand, but she would not touch it. - -"I will not barter a human life again," she answered. - -"You're right there," said Reginald, and he sprang ashore, waving his -hat as he walked rapidly back towards the village. - -"How brave and handsome he looks!" thought Agnes to herself. "I did not -know he was so fine a man." And certainly the last two years had worked -a wonderful difference on Reginald. - -He had changed from a youth to a man. His seafaring life had bronzed -his fair complexion; the habit of command, the discipline (though it was -somewhat lax in those days), had given him a more manly deportment. -Altogether the alteration in his appearance was wholly to his advantage, -and it was even surprising that Agnes had recognized him. - -As soon as he had disappeared, Ben Davies began loosening his little -craft. - -"We must be quick," he said, "or night will overtake us before we reach -Broek, and there are so many adventurers about, one is not safe even on -the canal." Turning quickly to Agnes, he said: - -"I understand you are a great lady; I always thought you were. I -earnestly beg your pardon if I have injured you, and I entreat you to -plead my cause with your friends." - -"Indeed I will," she answered. "Of course you were very wrong to carry -me away; but you have been so good to me, and Jeanne, dear Jeanne, and -my little Lisette, I love you all." She picked the child up from the -deck and hugged and kissed her. - -"I have been very happy with you sometimes, since I got well," she said. - -"Oh, no harm shall come to you, I promise!" he answered; and she smiled -again in answer that wonderful bright smile of hers, which brought a -look of gladness to the two other faces. - -Thank God that there are in the world some who have this gift of joy -giving! They are like angels dropped down upon the earth to scatter -little grains of gladness in sad places. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - *London on Fire* - - -The summer of 1665 had been hot, but the summer of 1666, if possible, -was hotter. In the month of August there had been a long drought, and -many people wondered that the plague did not reappear; but there had -been no signs of it. - -The Dutch War was the principal topic of conversation and excitement. -The court and home affairs were gradually settling down; the evil days -seemed well-nigh forgotten. - -So it came to pass that on the first of September a group of men and -women was assembled on the leads of the roof of Somerset House, to -breathe the air which came up from the river; indeed, an east wind was -blowing, but the day had been so excessively hot that it hardly seemed -to bring freshness with it. - -Patience was there, looking so fragile that the very sight of her made -Parson Ewan's heart ache. He and Jessie had come down from the north to -see if they could persuade her to return with them. They had heard of -Agnes's disappearance, and it was so long ago that they had ceased to -entertain anything but a shadowy hope of her return. Mr. Ewan could -therefore see no reason why Patience should remain alone in London. -Indeed, looking at her as she lay on a couch which had been brought up -on to the leads for her especial use, it seemed to him that she would -not be long with them. The patient face was so white and still, the -eyes had that strange, far-away look in them which we see in the eyes of -the dying. - -Jessie was sitting beside her holding her thin, white hand, and talking -to her of that home among the hills which they both loved so well, -telling her all the little village gossip, which brought a smile to -Patience's sad face. Ann and George Delarry were there also; but for -them, indeed, Patience's life would have been unbearable. They had done -all they could to comfort her. - -To Parson Ewan especially the sight of London, as viewed from the roof -of Somerset House that night, was wonderful. Indeed, they were all -destined never to forget it. The sky was absolutely clear and -cloudless, of that pure blue peculiar to it when an east wind is -blowing. Every bit of colour stood out distinctly. The grey of the -stone of Somerset House, and of other buildings looked white from the -dry heat; the river below shone like silver. Looking towards the city -they could see the spires and turrets of a hundred churches rising in -the clear air. St. Paul's seemed very near to them. It was now under -repair and surrounded by a net-work of scaffold poles, all exceedingly -dry, almost as if dried in an oven, so hot had the summer been. In the -city of London itself there were many picturesque wooden houses, so -close one to another in the narrow streets that they almost touched. -They were very dry, except here and there, where the tar with which some -were covered was oozing down because of the heat. - -In these narrow streets there was much buying and selling, eating, -drinking, and making "mighty merry". A few hackney-coaches were -returning with family parties who had been out on excursions refreshing -themselves at Islington or some other suburb, from the heat of the city. -Many people were singing, girls were playing on virginals. There was -much laughter and merriment, and even dancing in the streets. No one -seemed to think of going to bed, the night air was so refreshing. - -To those on the leads of Somerset House the scene was inexpressibly -fascinating. The sun had long set; there hung over the city the strange -beauty and mystery of what is called the 'raven's twilight'. They did -not speak much, but stood or sat and watched the city until night fell. -Then the moon rose and once more lit up that marvellous vision. It was -so lovely no one desired to leave it. There was not a trace of any -mist. The moon mounted to her highest noon, in cloudless majesty, while -the city was hushed to sleep. Midnight chimed from St. Clement's, and -the bells of a hundred other churches rang out. The watchman's call was -heard: - -"Past twelve o'clock and a windy morning. All's well. It is the Lord's -day." - -Stooping over the parapet, Delarry said carelessly, addressing himself -to Mr. Ewan: - -"Do you see, sir, down yonder by the river, near London Bridge, that -light? It is not the light of the moon. It is a fire. Well, we need -not be anxious, fires are frequent; it will be nothing. My Lord Craven -will be at his best, he never misses a fire. It is said his horse is so -used to take him to fires that he knows the smell of it a long distance -off, and will gallop to it as soon as he feels his master's foot in the -stirrup." - -"I have heard that a fire is a very fascinating sight," said Mr. Ewan. -"After all, it is a battle with the elements. But it would not be a -good thing to-night, with this east wind blowing." - -As they watched that little light they saw that by degrees the sky grew -red and strong flames came driving westward. The east wind blew a -fierce gale; cries rose up from the streets; there was much rushing -about and confusion even in their neighbourhood, though the fire was -certainly at a great distance. - -"I think we had best go down and see what is happening," said Delarry. -"Shall we take you ladies into the house? We shall not be long absent." - -"No; we will abide here," said Patience. "It would be intolerable to be -below and see nothing." - -Indeed, even as she spoke many of the servants came up, anxious also to -witness the conflagration. - -"You need have no fear," said Delarry, "I am going to the king." - -"I wish you would not go," said Ann. "See how the flames are riding, -and how quickly they spread!" - -"It is my duty to go to the king, Ann," he said, "but I will be back as -quickly as possible. In the meantime, Mr. Ewan," he continued, "if the -ladies are fearful it would be well to put them into a barge and send -them out into the river. You had better see if the barges are in -order," he added to the chief steward of the household, "and Peter Kemp, -you will help Parson Ewan with the ladies; but there can be no haste, -the fire will be cut off in no time." - -Even as he spoke these words he looked anxiously at the great flames -which kept rising from amidst volumes of smoke. - -"Courage, dearest," he said, kissing Ann, "I shall be back immediately." -And without more ado he left her. - -Martha was in tears. Patience had risen and was standing leaning upon -Jessie, looking at the wonderful sight. By this time the whole centre -of the city seemed to be one mass of flames, driven in long tongues of -fire westward, spreading quickly along the water side. - -"Do you think it will come this way?" asked Mr. Ewan of Peter Kemp, who -stood beside him. - -"Lor' no, sir," answered the man; "it's a pretty long way off yet, but -the houses be so dry and so near together, and many of them are tarred, -so that they set one another on fire." - -Peter Kemp was right. The chronicles of the time tell us that the fire -broke out in the house of one Farryner, the king's baker, in Pudding -Lane, where the Monument now stands, and that it spread so quickly that -before three o'clock in the morning three hundred houses were down. St. -Magnus, by the bridge foot, was alight, and the houses near it in -flames; the wind was so strong it seemed to sweep everything before it. - -Unfortunately no one knew what to do, and the first few hours were lost. -The lord mayor was at his wits' end, and when he received the command -from the king to spare no houses, but pull them down before the fire, he -exclaimed: - -"Lord! what can I do? I am spent; people will not obey me. I have been -pulling down houses, but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do -it." - -People were wandering about the streets distracted, and there was no -efficient means of quenching the fire.[#] - - -[#] Pepys's account. - - -Delarry found the king leaving Whitehall in his barge with the Duke of -York. - -"You had better come with us, Delarry," he said; "you have a steady -head, and we may need your services." And so Delarry went down on the -king's barge to Thames Street, where they landed. And the king and the -Duke of York behaved splendidly, encouraging the men, speaking -cheerfully and with authority to the distracted people; their presence -did much to control the populace. - -Almost as soon as they had landed, the king had said to Delarry, "Go -back and bring soldiers and gunpowder; we must stop it even if we blow -up half the town." And Delarry had gone. - -He came back with a score of men, and it was done as the king desired. - -Suddenly there came running into the very midst of this scene of -destruction a tall, fair man in the dress of a naval officer, and with -him a dozen or more blue-jackets with axes in their hands; they looked -like men who had both the will and the power to do good work. A cry -went up from the crowd: - -"Hurrah for the 'blue-jackets'!" And the men answered the greeting with -a shout and a wild hurrah. The Duke of York, who had taken his part in -the Dutch wars, left the king's side, and, riding forward, greeted the -young officer, who paused in his running, and by a word of command drew -up his men in front of the duke. - -"You've come in the very nick of time, Commander Newbolt," he said; "I -wish we had more men like you." - -"Others are following, your highness," answered Newbolt. "My ship, the -_Orient_, anchored in Harwich this morning, and the news reached us that -London was burning, so I got permission from Prince Rupert to come on -and see if we could help, if help were needed." - -"It is needed," said the duke, "and badly; go to work. Do not spare the -houses; it is the king's order. The fire must be cut off, but above all -things save as many lives as you can. Away with you!" - -No second bidding was needed; from that moment Reginald Newbolt and his -blue-jackets did such strenuous work that he and Delarry together were -the heroes of the day. Many were the women and the children whom they -carried out of danger; many were the poor wretches, sick, and halt, and -maimed, whom they took to places of refuge. - -It is impossible to relate here the agony of that first day of the fire, -a Sabbath day never to be forgotten, the Lord's day as it was called -then. The river was crowded to excess with lighters and boats taking in -goods of every description. The water itself was thick with baskets, -boxes, anything that would float, and above in the air there was the -screaming of birds, of pigeons which would not leave their houses, and -which hovered about the windows and balconies licked by the flames, -until they burnt their wings and fell down. - -Black with smoke and grime, almost beyond recognition, Lord Craven and -Reginald Newbolt came face to face, and, strange to tell, recognized -each other. It was no time for ceremony, they clasped hands. - -"You here!" said Lord Craven; "it is well, for we need brave men, and I -have been hearing all day long of the blue-jackets and their commander." - -They had no time to say more, for even as they spoke there was a great -crash, and a block of houses fell as in a burning pit, and such a cloud -of smoke and dust arose that for a few seconds they were in darkness, -half smothered in the suffocating furnace of heat and dust. When they -recovered themselves, they found that they were still together. - -"Can you tell me anything of Ann?" asked Reginald quickly. - -"She is safe with Patience Beaumont at Somerset House," said Lord -Craven. "You know she is Delarry's wife; he will see after her." - -"I know nothing," said Reginald, "but I have one bit of news--Mistress -Agnes De Lisle is, or rather was, safe a week ago. She was to start for -England; let us hope she has not done so. You can carry the news to -Patience; she must have had a hard time of it." - -"She is dying of it," said Lord Craven. "Who knows, this may make her -live!" But another burst of flames, another rush of half-distracted men -and women separated them, and each went his way, brave men and true, -ready to face every danger, not thinking of themselves, doing their duty -to God and man as Christian knights and English gentlemen. - -At Somerset House, as the danger increased, Mr. Ewan and Peter Kemp -decided that as the rapidity of the fire was so great that at any time -it might sweep up westward and render even Somerset House untenable, -they had better get the women on to a barge and go out into the river. -It was difficult to steer, as there were so many other vessels filling -the river. The heat was intolerable, and they were almost burnt by the -shower of fire-drops which fell continuously. It was by these fire-drops -that the fire spread. They fell into the barges, beyond the range of -the actual fire. It was as if the heavens showered down burning coals. -Many persons threw themselves on the ground or into the river itself, -saying it was the last day, and that the judgment of God had fallen upon -the city. - -The sky was a lurid sheet, like the top of a burning oven. The fall of -houses, the sudden collapse of the churches, was hideous to hear and -see. - -The air was so hot and inflamed, that at last no one was able to -approach the radius where the fire raged fiercest. This circle of fire -was nearly two miles in length and one in breadth, and because of the -long trail of smoke the whole town and country for six miles round was -in total darkness, so that at noonday travellers could not see each -other, though there was no cloud in the sky! The Guildhall was a -fearful spectacle. It stood in view for several hours after the fire -had taken hold of it, a great lurid body without any flames, because the -timber with which it was built was of solid oak. It shone forth a -bright mass, as if it had been a palace of gold. - -St. Paul's was under repair as has been said, and the scaffolding helped -to set the cathedral on fire. The great stones of which it was built -were calcined. - -Patience, Jessie, and Ann watched the scene with terror. They had only -Mr. Ewan, Peter, and the house steward with them, along with one -bargeman. Martha and one or two maid-servants had followed them. - -We have already said that the heat was so fierce, the shower of -fire-drops so continuous, that but for the water which surrounded the -barge they would of necessity have been burnt up. The water in the -river was almost boiling, and hissed and bubbled as the red-hot drops -fell into it. At last, overcome with fatigue and fear, Patience became -unconscious. Heavy drops of perspiration were pouring down the faces of -all; it was intolerable. - -"Cannot you steer the barge across to the other side?" asked Mr. Ewan of -the bargeman. - -It was late in the afternoon when he made this proposition. - -"I will try," he answered, "but you can see for yourself, sir, the river -is covered with craft and with floating bales; it is not easy." - -Mr. Ewan had been an oarsman when he was a student at Oxford, and with -his assistance at steering they succeeded in crossing the river and -reaching the Surrey side, which put them comparatively out of danger. -It was called "the Bank side" in those days. - -"I know of a little ale-house where, if not overcrowded, they would take -us in," said Peter. - -"Then for God's sake guide us there," said Mr. Ewan, as he lifted -Patience in his arms and carried her out of the barge on to land. - -The refugees swarmed along the river front, but, guided by Peter, the -little party found its way at last to the ale-house, which stood back in -a garden of its own. - -As good fortune would have it, there was one room still unoccupied. Of -this the women took immediate possession, and where Patience could be -tended. Late in the afternoon they were able to join the men in the -little garden, and witnessed the fire growing ever more and more vivid, -creeping up the steeples, appearing between the churches and the houses, -as far as they could see up the hill on which the city stands, a most -horrid, malicious, bloody flame, not like the fine flame of a fire, but -in fashion like a bow--a dreadful bow it was, a bow which had God's -arrow in it with a flaming point.[#] - - -[#] Vincent. - - -It was an awful sight, and throughout Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday and -Thursday, the fire continued, at times seeming to die down, and then -bursting forth again with redoubled fury. Up and down the city the Duke -of York rode. Lord Craven, Delarry, Reginald Newbolt, and many other -brave men fought the fire as they had never fought a living enemy. -There was no thought of rest, no thought of staying their -hand--desolation, ruin, surrounded them on every side. The town itself -was in those days hardly more than a mile wide at any point; open -country was all around, and the people who had made their escape camped -out on Moorfields and in the meadows of the hillside slopes. - -Fortunately the weather continued warm and dry, and there was bright -moonlight. By mid-day on Friday all danger was past; but what had been -the most picturesque city in Europe, was now a heap of ruins and ashes. -Few lives had been lost, but old London had ceased to exist. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXII* - - *Found* - - -It was Sunday morning, just a week since the fire had broken out and -consumed the city. The bells of the churches that remained uninjured -were ringing out, and crowds were passing over the ruins to reach the -churches, there to confess their sins and their misdoings, and to pray -the Lord to stay His wrath, and not utterly destroy His people. - -No such scene of desolation was ever witnessed before, and let us pray -it may never be witnessed again in the capital of the English nation. -She had fallen very low, and now her people humbled themselves, -acknowledging the hand of God which had chastised and yet had not slain -them. - -A man, a woman, and a girl were making their way from the crowded banks -of the river up the Strand towards Somerset House. When they reached it -they found the gates closed and guarded by soldiers, for the people who -remained in the city were afraid of the many marauders and thieves who -had escaped from the prisons and places of detention during the last few -days. Newgate had been burnt down, and it had been impossible to keep a -close watch over the prisoners, so that, now the danger of fire was -over, a great fear of rapine, theft, and murder fell upon the honest -inhabitants. - -Those who could afford it, themselves set watchmen before their houses, -and barred and bolted their doors. In the court-yard of Somerset House -there were both soldiers and sailors mingled together. There was also a -watch-box, used at night by the watchman, but at present a soldier stood -in it with fixed bayonet. Seeing all this array, the three strangers -slunk back and began conversing together. - -"What shall we do?" asked Ben Davies. "To whom shall we address -ourselves to gain admittance?" - -"Oh, it will be quite easy!" said Agnes, who was still in her peasant's -dress. "I must know if Patience is here. If she is not, then perhaps -Martha will be." - -Even as she spoke, Martha's portly figure came through the gate out into -the street. She was accompanied by Peter Kemp, to whom she was saying -in a loud voice, hugging a book of prayers in her arms: - -"Indeed, if ye have never prayed before, it would be well if ye did so -now. Come along with me." - -Peter looked somewhat sheepish, but he had no time to answer, for Agnes -sprang forward, exclaiming: - -"Martha, Martha, take me to Aunt Patience!" - -"Ah, my lamb!" said Martha, "where have you sprung from?" - -"Oh, never mind that, never mind anything!" said Agnes; "only take me to -Aunt Patience." And she clung to the woman. - -"I'll take you fast enough," said Martha, tears rolling down her face. -"Maybe it will be the saving of her." And she turned back, holding -Agnes's hand tightly in hers. - -They heard a scuffling behind them, and, looking round, they saw the -guards driving back Ben Davies and his wife. - -"Oh, let them come!" Agnes said, "they are my friends. Go and fetch -them, Peter; I must go to Aunt Patience." And she ran across the -court-yard, not heeding the groups of sailors who instinctively moved on -one side to let her pass. Old Martha followed her as fast as she could, -but Agnes ran on through the great vestibule. Her foot was on the first -step of the stairs when a hand was laid on her shoulder, and looking up -she saw Parson Ewan. - -"Agnes!" he exclaimed. - -"Aunt Patience--take me to Aunt Patience!" she cried, not heeding him. - -"Come!" said Parson Ewan; and they went quickly on together, without -speaking. - -They paused at the door of Patience's sitting-room. - -"Agnes," said the parson, "your aunt has been ill--very ill, indeed; and -the last few days have tried her beyond measure. We must be careful. -Jessie is with her. I will call her out, and I will go into your aunt -and tell her you are here." - -"Be quick, then," said Agnes. "Joy does not kill; she will get well now -I am here." - -She had raised her voice a little, and as the door of the room opened, a -voice they both knew called out: - -"Agnes, Agnes!" - -"She has heard me," said the girl, and, running forward, she found -herself in Patience's arms. - -"My darling, my well-beloved!" said the elder woman, sinking into a -chair and drawing Agnes on to her knees; and the two loved each other -with kisses and with tears, in silence, because their hearts were -overflowing. - -Parson Ewan closed the door and left them alone. - -Ben Davies and his wife were conducted by Peter Kemp to the servants' -hall, and were being questioned, but they were very reticent. Ben -Davies simply said that the Lady Agnes had been given into their charge, -he did not even know by whom. Her very name had been hidden from them -for many months. When they did know it, but for the war they would have -brought her to England at once. Then a young commander, who knew the -lady, had found them in Holland, and bidden them keep her quiet until -the war should be over; but she was so impatient to come home, that she -had persuaded Ben to hire a larger barge and to put out to sea. - -They came up by the Medway and had expected to be in London in a day or -so, when the fire broke out, and they had had to lay to. As soon as it -was possible, the Lady Agnes had insisted on pushing forward. She would -not let them rest. Her one cry was: - -"Aunt Patience, Aunt Patience!" - -Presently Parson Ewan came in, accompanied by Reginald Newbolt, who said -sharply: - -"Well, Ben, you haven't obeyed orders." - -"I couldn't, sir," answered Ben; "the young lady would not let me. When -I told her I had no money to charter a ship, she said it did not matter, -that I could promise the owner what I chose; she was sure she was rich, -she was sure the money would be found, and my wife took sides with her. -What could I do? So I chartered a boat, and we crossed over; but when -we came within reach of London, and saw the fire raging, still she would -not go back. So we waited in the river until we could move on, which we -did as soon as possible. She seemed to have no fear, and but one -thought--to get home." - -"Well, you had better remain here for the present," said Reginald. -"Martha will take care of your wife." - -"Please, your honour, I must go back to my ship to-night," said Ben -Davies, "and my wife cannot leave the little one. Fortunately my mother -came with us, and took charge of the child; but my wife must be back -before night." - -"Very well," said Reginald; "tell me in what dock your ship is lying and -I will go to you. You must not go without seeing the Lady Agnes. Stay -here and take proper refreshment. I will see to your getting back the -quickest way possible." - -"Thank you, sir!" said Ben Davies; then, speaking in a low voice so that -no one else could hear, he said: - -"You will not betray me, sir? You will not let evil happen to me -because I listened to that wicked man?" - -"No, I will not," said Reginald, "I promise you. You have redeemed -yourself. You shall go scot-free. Indeed, I expect you will be rewarded -for your care of the Lady Agnes." - -"Thank you kindly, sir!" said the man. And then Reginald and Mr. Ewan -left the hall. - -That same evening there was a great consultation, and it was agreed that -the very next day Mr. Ewan, Patience, and the two girls, with their men -and women servants, should start north. They would have to go very -slowly because of Patience. It was impossible for her to travel on -horseback, so a carriage had to be hired, and everything done to ensure -the least possible fatigue for her. - -Patience wrote to the king, telling him how Agnes had been found. She -dwelt but slightly on her disappearance. All she said was: "She was -carried away from us by some misadventure or by some evil design, which -the Lord has frustrated, and she has mercifully been given back to my -arms. Surely her angels have watched over her that her foot should not -slip. With your majesty's leave I am taking her back to Westmorland to -my home, seeing she has none of her own--De Lisle Abbey, her ancestral -home, having passed into the hands of strangers. I would entreat your -majesty to inform the queen-dowager of these facts; and also I would -remind your majesty that her father died serving that saint and martyr, -your most gracious majesty's father, and of your promise to befriend the -child, who is fatherless and motherless, with nothing she can call her -own. As regards myself, I shall not be here long to protect her. The -late events have shattered my health, and I am going home to die; then -she will be alone. Praying your majesty's goodness for the orphan, I -kiss your majesty's hand, and leave her to your tender mercy. - -"PATIENCE BEAUMONT." - - -"I will take the letter," said Reginald, "and you, Delarry, shall -accompany me." - -"Willingly," said the young Irish officer; and the two went off -together. - -The conduct of the young men had been so remarkable during the late -events of the fire that they were in high favour with both the king and -the Duke of York, to whom they had access at any hour of the day or -night. - -When the king had read the letter, he looked at Reginald with that -peculiar expression of bonhomie which was so familiar to his courtiers. - -"Are not you the present possessor of the De Lisle estates?" he asked. - -"Yes, sire," answered Reginald boldly; "they were given my father in -return for his services in the Parliamentary army. But let not that -trouble your majesty; I am ready to restore them to their rightful -owner." - -"And their rightful owner is this Lady Agnes Beaumont De Lisle," said -the king. "Well, Captain Newbolt, I have a bit of advice to give you, -and at the same time a tangible recognition of your services during the -Dutch War, of which my cousin, Prince Rupert," and he turned to the -prince, who was standing by him, and smiled, "has given me full account. -Go courting this lady; make her your wife. It will not be very -difficult, seeing she is the fairest maiden at our court, and my mother -has kept her hidden as a pearl in an oyster shell. It is for you to -bring her forth, and when you present her at our court as your wife, I -will create you Sir Reginald De Lisle, and ratify to you and to her -conjointly the estates of which you have defrauded her; so shall we do -away with all difficulties. What say you to this, my cousin?" And he -turned once more to Prince Rupert. - -"That your majesty has as usual solved the question with your happy wit. -What can be better than love, and marriage, and wedding-bells?" - -But Reginald answered: - -"I am only too willing, your majesty; but there is one thing I would -beseech of you, namely, to restore the estate to Lady Agnes without -delay, and with no regard as to whether I win her hand or not." - -"But unless you wed her you cannot be Sir Reginald De Lisle," said the -king. - -"Then, with your permission, I will be Sir Reginald something else," -said the young man boldly; "but I would have the Lady Agnes left free, -quite free, to wed me or not as it seems best to her." - -"But you will go a-courting her?" said Charles, laughing. - -"Ah, verily I will!" answered Reginald, drawing himself up, "and I hope -to win her." - -"Have it your own way," said the king. "Send us the parchments -concerning the De Lisle estate and we will make them over to the young -lady, and you, you will be penniless and a soldier of fortune. Now, -begone, and do not tarry on the road, but win your spurs and a wife." - -Reginald bent his knee before the king and kissed his hand; then rose -and went his way. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIII* - - *Home at Last* - - -It was a long journey north, and a wearisome one. They had to make many -halts on the road because of Patience's weakness. She was as a queen -amongst them; they loved and tended her, each one in his or her own way. -Jessie fairly worshipped her, and was almost jealous of Agnes. How was -it possible that, thus cradled in love, she should not live! and it was -evident to them all that as she approached north there seemed to dawn -upon her face a look of happiness, and in her voice there was a note of -gladness. So they were content and ceased to fear for her. - -"You are getting well so quickly, Aunt Patience!" said Agnes. But -Patience shook her head; she could not think so herself, for she could -not shake off the horror of the past months--the plague, the fire, and -the loss of Agnes--she could not believe it possible that she should -live, she who had ceased to desire life. Again and again she said to -Parson Ewan, "If only I could see Agnes married and settled with a good -man, I should be content to go." - -"Have you not learnt through all this time of trial," said Parson Ewan -reproachfully, "to leave things in God's hands? Each day you say 'Thy -Will be done', and yet you make plans for the future. You say you do not -care to live, but if it be His will that you should live, surely you -will be content. You are still a young woman, and there may be work for -you to do--others to comfort and care for. Who can tell what God -requires of us?" - -"When Agnes is married I shall be alone," said Patience, "and I do not -like the thought of being alone. I would sooner go home to my dear -ones." - -"Loneliness is a thing we have all to face," said Parson Ewan sadly; -"but there is no need to trouble about it until it comes. Rest assured -that when it does, with God's grace you will bear it. The vicarage is -not far from Holt Farm, and there is Jessie." - -"You are right," said Patience, and a slight colour crept over her face; -"besides, we are talking as if Agnes were married and gone, and we do -not even know that she thinks of either love or marriage." - -"Just so," said the parson; "as I told you, you were taking trouble by -the forelock." - -Their last halting-place was at Appleby, which was but a short distance -from De Lisle Abbey. - -"Would you like me to take Agnes over to see the old home?" asked Mr. -Ewan the following morning. - -"No," said Patience; "she shall not go there until it is her own, and -that may never be. I have had no answer from the king." - -"All in good time," said Mr. Ewan, and he smiled, for he had had a -conversation with Reginald and Delarry the morning before they started, -when he had learnt the king's pleasure, "that De Lisle Abbey was to be -restored to Agnes, and that Reginald was to go a-courting." - -"I don't think he will need to do that long," Delarry had said. "Agnes -has always been his sweetheart." - -"Ah, but I was a rich man in those days, now I possess nothing! You -know this full well, Delarry, seeing you have had no dower with Ann, and -I can give you none." - -"I am quite content," said Delarry. - -"But I, 'a soldier of fortune', shall have to woo an heiress," said -Reginald, "so I am not content." - -"What matters it; what matters anything," said Mr. Ewan, "if she loves -you?" - -"True," said Reginald, "if she loves me." And then they parted company, -for Reginald and Delarry were much in request at court, and could not -even wait to see them off; but, as Reginald bade Agnes farewell, he -said: - -"As soon as I can get leave of absence, may I come north and visit you?" - -"If you will," said Agnes; "but we are poor folk now. We live at Holt -Farm, and you are master of Newbolt Abbey." - -"I shall not be master there long," he answered; and so he bade her -farewell. - - -At every cottage door in the little hamlet of St. Mary's, women and -children, even the men in the fields, stopped now and again, and, -shading their eyes with their hands, looked up over the hills in the -direction of Appleby. There was an air of expectancy and gladness on -every face, for the news had reached them through Rolfe that the parson, -Mistress Patience Beaumont, and the two young maidens were coming home -that day. - -"It's a wonder they're alive," one woman said to another; "to think -they've been through the plague and the fire!" - -"But it seems that Mistress Patience is terribly ill," answered her -companion. - -"So I heard," said the first speaker, "but she'll soon get hale and -hearty when she is home again. There they be;" and she pointed down the -valley to where a coach was just visible, accompanied by horses and -riders. A general movement took place among the villagers, as if they -would have all gone forward to meet the travellers. - -Suddenly there arose a cry of pleasure, for they saw two youthful -figures come running on in front. - -"Ah, it's the maidens!" said an old man, leaning on his stick. "I thank -the Lord my eyes will see them once again!" and then there was no -holding back. Children and women and men left their cottages to take -care of themselves, and went on their way cheering and waving their -kerchiefs until Agnes and Jessie were in their midst, shaking hands with -one and all, half-laughing and half-crying. - -"Follow us," said Jessie. "Father says we must thank God first of all -for His great mercies vouchsafed to us;" and she and Agnes led the way -to the little parish church, and the old sexton threw the door open, and -they entered. Patience, very pale and very feeble, but with a glint of -life and gladness in her eyes, walked between the two girls, leaning on -them both, and Mr. Ewan went first, entered the church and stood on the -altar steps, whilst the people crowded in. Then he spoke to them and -told them something of the danger through which Patience and Agnes had -passed, of that terrible plague, of the fire, and the long separation, -for which no one could account. Tears poured down his hearers' faces, -and the women sobbed. - -"But it is over," he said, "and God has been very merciful, for He has -brought them home again; therefore, let us kneel and give thanks to Him -Who is the Lord of life and death." - -They knelt for a time in silence, which spoke more eloquently than -words, and then there broke upon the stillness the first words of that -great song of triumph: - - "We praise Thee, O Lord, we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord. - All the earth doth worship Thee, the Father Everlasting." - -It poured forth from every heart and every tongue, the sound rolled out -through the open door into the sweet country beyond; and it seemed to -Patience, as she listened, as if healing were coming to her, the love of -life, the gladness which belongs to the true believer. As the last -words, "O Lord, in Thee have I trusted, let me never be confounded", -died out, with one accord they knelt again; every head was bowed, as the -pastor raised his hands and blessed them. - -Then they went forth. Patience was lifted on to a horse, and it was, -"Who should lead it?" And so they trooped up to Holt Farm. Doors and -windows were wide open, and the scent of the summer flowers, roses and -sweet lavender, filled the air. - -Oh, the joy of that home-coming, the sweet peace which crept over them -as they crossed the threshold and stood for a second waving their thanks -and their good-byes to those who had followed them! - -Mr. Ewan stepped into the midst of his flock. - -"You will go now," he said, "all of you, because the Mistress must have -rest and peace to recover her strength." So they went, and Patience was -taken up-stairs and put to bed in the sweet lavender-scented sheets, -with open windows looking out over the moors; and as she lay there it -seemed to her as if the past were an ugly dream from which she had just -awakened. As she listened to the birds singing, and the voices of Agnes -and Jessie as they went and came, she buried her face in the pillow and -wept tears of gladness and thanksgiving. All the bitterness of her soul -for those dark years of mourning passed away. Her youth had departed -from her, but it seemed to her almost as if there were a resurrection -within her, a new life dawning, a life which did not belong to others, -as all her past had done, but to herself. A strange gladness, a sense -of peace, crept over her, and she fell asleep. - -What would her awakening be? None but God knew. Surely she was one of -God's elect; she had possessed her soul in patience. - -In a different way Agnes realized the same feeling. It was not likely -she would ever forget what she had gone through or what she had seen and -heard, but it grew to be almost like a dream from which she had -awakened. She had been away from home and she had come back again, and -as she linked her arm in Jessie's, and with Mr. Ewan walked back to the -vicarage, she said as much. - -"I hope I may never go back to London," she said. "I will stay here all -my life. Could anything be more lovely?" - -"Make no rash promises," said Mr. Ewan, laughing. "You are too young to -do that. What if someone fetches you away?" - -Agnes coloured. "I cannot leave Aunt Patience," she answered. "Think -what she has done and suffered for me. Can I ever repay her?" - -"We can never repay love; we can but give it in return," answered Mr. -Ewan. - -After the first two or three days life resumed its even course for them -all. - -If the Ewans and Patience and Agnes had been friends before, they were -more than friends now. It seemed as if they could not bear to be -parted. - -"If we could only live all together, Aunt Patience," Agnes said one -morning. - -Patience laughed, for she did laugh now, with a certain ring of gladness -which had never been there before. "That we cannot do," she answered. -"I cannot leave the farm, and Mr. Ewan cannot leave the vicarage." - -As she said these words Mr. Ewan entered the sitting-room, smiled at -Aunt Patience, who coloured deeply, for she knew he must have heard -Agnes's last words, but he gave no sign, only laid a voluminous packet -of papers in front of her. - -"These are for you, Agnes," he said. "I met a king's messenger bringing -them, and he entrusted them to me." Both Patience and Mr. Ewan -exchanged glances, while Agnes fingered the parchment and slowly broke -the seal. - -"What is it?" she said. "I cannot read this cramped writing. What have -I to do with the king?" - -"Give it to me; let me read it to you," said Mr. Ewan. - -"Oh no, not all these long pages!" said Agnes, "just tell me what it -means. What does the king want with me?" - -"Nothing," answered Mr. Ewan, "except to give back to you what by right -is yours, the lands and estates of De Lisle Abbey." - -"There is no De Lisle Abbey; it is Newbolt Manor," said Agnes sharply, -"and I won't have it." - -"You cannot help yourself. I think you must," said Patience. - -"No, Aunt Patience, you may say what you will, but I will never go -there. It would never be to me like home; I would sooner remain with -you always. I will write and tell the king as much; I do not want to be -Lady of De Lisle Abbey." - -"It would be of no use your sending to the king; there are your -title-deeds," said Patience. - -"Then I will throw them into the fire; I will have none of it," she -said, and she caught at them. But Parson Ewan put his hand on hers. - -"Let be, Agnes," he said. - -She burst into tears. - -"I will not; I tell you I will not!" and she stamped her foot. - -A step had come up the gravel path which she had not heard, neither had -she seen the figure of a man standing in the doorway; but Patience and -Mr. Ewan had both heard and seen, and quietly they turned and left the -room. - -Agnes, her arms crossed on the table, sobbed with childish anger, -repeating: "I will not; I will not!" - -"What will you not do, you naughty child?" said a man's voice, and a -somewhat heavy hand was laid on her shoulder. - -She started, looked up, and saw Reginald standing over her. "I will not -be Lady De Lisle," she said. - -"Very well," answered Reginald seriously; "I am very sorry if that be -your last word, Agnes." - -"What can it matter to you?" she said passionately. "I will not take -your lands; I will not rob you." - -She looked so pretty in her anger, with her tear-stained face and -ruffled hair, still such a child. - -"Nevertheless I am sorry," he said, "for I have come to ask you to be my -wife; and the king has promised to knight me Sir Reginald De Lisle if I -win you." - -"I cannot be your wife," she answered slowly. "I am too young; and then -there is Aunt Patience. You must be Sir Reginald something else." - -"I will not be Sir anything, unless I am Sir Reginald De Lisle, and you -knight me," he answered. - -She shook her head. "I tell you, you can't. I will not have the land." - -He put his arm round her, turned her face up to his, and looked into her -eyes. "Now, tell me you do not love me, my little sweetheart," he said. - -Evidently she could not so answer him, for a smile broke over her face. - -"Yes or no, Agnes?" he asked softly. - -A short gasp and then a timid "Yes", and he would have kissed her, but -she slipped away from him and stood at the farther end of the room. - -"I cannot; you know I cannot. What will become of Aunt Patience?" she -said. - -He laughed. "I think that will settle itself, Agnes," he answered. -"Don't run away, little one." And he took both her hands in his. - -"Have you seen nothing?" - -"Seen! What should I have seen?" said Agnes. - -"Well, then, wait awhile and you will see," said Reginald. "In the -meantime, you love me and I love you; so you must be my wife, and the -king will knight me, and we will go and live in the place I love best in -the world, De Lisle Abbey." - -"Then Aunt Patience must come too," she said. "She cannot stay here -alone." - -She did not know that Aunt Patience had come back until she felt her -arms round her, and heard the voice she loved so well say: - -"I shall not hinder you, my darling. Did you not yourself say it would -be a good thing if the vicarage and the farm were one dwelling-place?" - -"Yes, I did," answered Agnes, "because we are all such good friends." - -"Just so," said Patience. "But as the vicarage is too small for us all, -Mr. Ewan and myself have settled that he and Jessie shall live up here -with me after you are married." - -"Oh," answered Agnes, "then you will not want me!" And her face fell. - -"We shall always want you, dear. Only, I think someone else wants you -more, and someone wants me too, and we shall never be quite happy -without our lovers. Am I not right?" She drew Agnes into her arms, and -they kissed tenderly, in remembrance of the past, and for joy in the -future. - -And so it came to pass that a few weeks later Sir Reginald De Lisle and -Agnes were married in the little church where her mother lay sleeping; -and they rode away together, she on her white palfrey, he on his black -charger, and he took her to her old home, the home of her race, now his -and hers. - -They left no sadness behind, for Mr. Ewan and Patience were also married -a few days later in the same village church, and Jessie's heart was glad -because she had a mother. And so, for one and all, the evil days were -over. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S FAVOURITE *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49344 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so -the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be -used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific -permission. 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