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  CHAPTER X

  I

  It was a fortnight later that there came suddenly to Babington House oldMr. Biddell himself. Up to the present he had been careful not to do so.He appeared in the great hall an hour before dinner-time, as the tableswere being set, and sent a servant for Mistress Manners.

  "Hark you!" he said; "you need not rouse the whole house. It is withMistress Manners alone that my business lies."

  He broke off, as Mrs. FitzHerbert looked over the gallery.

  "Mr. Biddell!" she cried.

  He shook his head, but he seemed to speak with some difficulty.

  "It is just a rumour," he said, "such as there hath been before. I begyou--"

  "That ... there will be no trial at all?"

  "It is just a rumour," he repeated. "I did not even come to trouble youwith it. It is with Mistress Manners that--"

  "I am coming down," cried Mrs. Thomas, and vanished from the gallery.

  Mr. Biddell acted with decision. He whisked out again into the passagefrom the court, and there ran straight into Marjorie, who was coming infrom the little enclosed garden at the back of the house.

  "Quick!" he said. "Quick! Mrs. Thomas is coming, and I do not wish--"

  She led the way without a word back into the court, along a few steps,and up again to the house into a little back parlour that the stewardused when the house was full. It was unoccupied now, and looked out intothe garden whence she was just come. She locked the door when he hadentered, and came and sat down out of sight of any that might bepassing.

  "Sit here," she said; and then: "Well?" she asked.

  He looked at her gravely and sadly, shaking his head once or twice. Thenhe drew out a paper or two from a little lawyer's valise that hecarried, and, as he did so, heard a hand try the door outside.

  "That is Mrs. Thomas," whispered the girl. "She will not find us."

  He waited till the steps moved away again. Then he began. He lookedanxious and dejected.

  "I fear it is precisely as you thought," he said. "I have followed upevery rumour in the place. And the first thing that is certain is thatTopcliffe leaves Derby in two days from now. I had it as positiveinformation that his men have orders to prepare for it. The second thingis that Topcliffe is greatly elated; and the third is that Mr.FitzHerbert will be released as soon as Topcliffe is gone."

  "You are sure this time, sir?"

  He assented by a movement of his head.

  "I dared not tell Mrs. Thomas just now. She would give me no peace. Isaid it was but a rumour, and so it is; but it is a rumour that hathtruth behind it. He hath been moved, too, these three days back, toanother cell, and hath every comfort."

  He shook his head again.

  "But he hath made no promise--" began Marjorie breathlessly.

  "It is exactly that which I am most afraid of," said the lawyer. "If hehad yielded, and, consented to go to church, it would have been inevery man's mouth by now. But he hath not, and I should fear it less ifhe had. That's the very worst part of my news."

  "I do not understand--"

  Mr. Biddell tapped his papers on the table.

  "If he were an open and confessed enemy, I should fear it less," herepeated. "It is not that. But he must have given some promise toTopcliffe that pleases the fellow more. And what can that be but that--"

  Marjorie turned yet whiter. She sighed once as if to steady herself. Shecould not speak, but she nodded.

  "Yes, Mistress Manners," said the old man. "I make no doubt at all thathe hath promised to assist him against them all--against Mr. John hisfather, it may be, or Mr. Bassett, or God knows whom! And yet stillfeigning to be true! And that is not all."

  She looked at him. She could not conceive worse than this, if indeed itwere true.

  "And do you think," he continued, "that Mr. Topcliffe will do all thisfor love, or rather, for mere malice? I have heard more of the fellowsince he hath been in Derby than in all my life before; and, I tell you,he is for feathering his own nest if he can." He stopped.

  "Mistress, did you know that he had been out to Padley three or fourtimes since he came to Derby?... Well, I tell you now that he has. Mr.John was away, praise God; but the fellow went all round the place andgreatly admired it."

  "He went out to see what he could find?" asked the girl, stillwhispering.

  The other shook his head.

  "No, mistress; he searched nothing. I had it all from one of hisfellows, through one of mine. He searched nothing; he sat a great whilein the garden, and ate some of the fruit; he went through the hall andthe rooms, and admired all that was to be seen there. He went up intothe chapel-room, too, though there was nothing there to tell him what itwas; and he talked a great while to one of the men about the farms, andthe grazing, and such-like, but he meddled with nothing." (The old man'sface suddenly wrinkled into fury.) "The devil went through it all likethat, and admired it; and he came out to it again two or three times anddid the like."

  He stopped to examine the notes he had made, and Marjorie sat still,staring on him.

  It was worse than anything she could have conceived possible. That aFitzHerbert should apostatise was incredible enough; but that one shouldsell his family--It was impossible.

  "Mr. Biddell," she whispered piteously, "it cannot be. It is some--"

  He shook his head suddenly and fiercely.

  "Mistress Manners, it is as plain as daylight to me. Do you think Icould believe it without proof? I tell you I have lain awake all lastnight, fitting matters one into the other. I did not hear about Padleytill last night, and it gave me all that I needed. I tell you Topcliffehath cast his foul eyes on Padley and coveted it; and he hath demandedit as a price for Mr. Thomas' liberty. I do not know what else he hathpromised, but I will stake my fortune that Padley is part of it. That iswhy he is so elated. He hath been here nearly this three months back; hehath visited Mr. FitzHerbert nigh every day; he hath cajoled him, hehath threatened him; he hath worn out his spirit by the gaol and thestinking food and the loneliness; and he hath prevailed, as he hathprevailed with many another. And the end of it all is that Mr.FitzHerbert hath yielded--yet not openly. Maybe that is part of thebargain upon the other side, that he should keep his name before theworld. And on this side he hath promised Padley, if that he may but keepthe rest of the estates, and have his liberty. I tell you that alonecuts all the knots of this tangle.... Can you cut them in any othermanner?"

  * * * * *

  There was a long silence. From the direction of the kitchen came thesound of cheerful voices, and the clatter of lids, and from the walledgarden outside the chatter of birds....

  At last the girl spoke.

  "I cannot believe it without evidence," she said. "It may be so. Godknows! But I do not.... Mr. Biddell?"

  "Well, mistress?"

  The lawyer's head was sunk on his breast; he spoke listlessly.

  "He will have given some writing to Mr. Topcliffe, will he not? if thisbe true. Mr. Topcliffe is not the man--"

  The old man lifted his head sharply; then he nodded.

  "That is the shrewd truth, mistress. Mr. Topcliffe will not trust toanother's honour; he hath none of his own!"

  "Well," said Marjorie, "if all this be true, Mr. Topcliffe will alreadyhave that writing in his possession."

  She paused.

  "Eh?" said the lawyer.

  They looked at one another again in silence. It would have seemed toanother that the two minds talked swiftly and wordlessly together, thetrained thought of the lawyer and the quick wit of the woman; for whenthe man spoke again, it was as if they had spoken at length.

  "But we must not destroy the paper," he said, "or the fat will be inthe fire. We must not let Mr. FitzHerbert know that he is found out."

  "No," said the girl. "But to get a view of it.... And a copy of it, tosend to his family."

  Again the two looked each at the other in silence--as if they wereequals--the old man and the girl.

  II


  It was the last night before the Londoners were to return.

  They had lived royally these last three months. The agent of the Councilhad had a couple of the best rooms in the inn that looked on to themarket-square, where he entertained his friends, and now and then amagistrate or two. Even Mr. Audrey, of Matstead, had come to him oncethere, with another, but had refused to stay to supper, and had riddenaway again alone.

  Downstairs, too, his men had fared very well indeed. They knew how tomake themselves respected, for they carried arms always now, since theunfortunate affair a day after the arrival, when two of them had beengravely battered about by two rustic servants, who, they learned, weremembers of a Popish household in the town. But all the provincialfellows were not like this. There was a big man, half clerk and halfman-servant to a poor little lawyer, who lived across the square--a manof no wit indeed, but, at any rate, one of means and of generosity, too,as they had lately found out--means and generosity, they understood,that were made possible by the unknowing assistance of his master. In aword it was believed among Mr. Topcliffe's men that all the refreshmentwhich they had lately enjoyed, beyond that provided by their master, wasat old Mr. Biddell's expense, though he did not know it, and thatGeorge Beaton, fool though he was, was a cleverer man than his employer.Lately, too, they had come to learn, that although George Beaton washalf clerk, half man-servant, to a Papist, he was yet at heart as stouta Protestant as themselves, though he dared not declare it for fear oflosing his place.

  On this last night they made very merry indeed, and once or twice thelandlord pushed his head through the doorway. The baggage was packed,and all was in readiness for a start soon after dawn.

  There came a time when George Beaton said that he was stifling with theheat; and, indeed, in this low-ceilinged room after supper, with thelittle windows looking on to the court, the heat was surprising. The mensat in their shirts and trunks. So that it was as natural as possiblethat George should rise from his place and sit down again close to thedoor where the cool air from the passage came in; and from there, oncemore, he led the talk, in his character of rustic and open-handed boor;he even beat the sullen man who was next him genially over the head tomake him give more room, and then he proposed a toast to Mr. Topcliffe.

  It was about half an hour later, when George was becoming a littleanxious, that he drew out at last a statement that Mr. Topcliffe had agreat valise upstairs, full of papers that had to do with his lawbusiness. (He had tried for this piece of information last night and thenight before, but had failed to obtain it.) Ten minutes later again,then, when the talk had moved to affairs of the journey, and the valisehad been forgotten, it was an entirely unsuspicious circumstance thatGeorge and the man that sat next him should slip out to take the air inthe stable-court. The Londoner was so fuddled with drink as to thinkthat he had gone out at his own deliberate wish; and there, in thefresh air, the inevitable result followed; his head swam, and he leanedon big George for support. And here, by the one stroke of luck thatvisited poor George this evening, it fell that he was just in time tosee Mr. Topcliffe himself pass the archway in the direction of Friar'sGate, in company with a magistrate, who had supped with him upstairs.

  Up to this point George had moved blindly, step by step. He had had hisinstructions from his master, yet all that he had been able to determinewas the general plan to find out where the papers were kept, to remainin the inn till the last possible moment, and to watch for any chancethat might open to him. Truly, he had no more than that, except, indeed,a vague idea that it might be necessary to bribe one of the men to robhis master. Yet there was everything against this, and it was, indeed, alast resort. It seemed now, however, that another way was open. It wasexceedingly probable that Mr. Topcliffe was off for his last visit tothe prisoner, and, since a magistrate was with him, it was exceedinglyimprobable that he would take the paper with him. It was not the kind ofpaper--if, indeed, it existed at all--that more persons would be allowedto see than were parties to the very discreditable affair.

  And now George spoke earnestly and convincingly. He desired to see thebaggage of so great a man as Mr. Topcliffe; he had heard so much of him.His friend was a good fellow who trusted him (here George embraced himwarmly). Surely such a little thing would be allowed as for him, George,to step in and view Mr. Topcliffe's baggage, while the faithful servantkept watch in the passage! Perhaps another glass of ale--

  III

  "Yes, sir," said George an hour later, still a little flushed with theamount of drink he had been forced to consume. "I had some trouble toget it. But I think this is what your honour wanted."

  He began to search in his deep breast-pocket.

  "Tell me," said Mr. Biddell.

  "I got the fellow to watch in the passage, sir; him that I had madedrunk, while I was inside. There were great bundles of papers in thevalise.... No, sir, it was strapped up only.... The most of the paperswere docketed very legally, sir; so I did not have to search long. Therewere three or four papers in a little packet by themselves; besides agreat packet that was endorsed with Mr. FitzHerbert's name, as well asMr. Topcliffe's and my lord Shrewsbury's; and I think I should not havehad time to look that through. But, by God's mercy, it was one of thethree or four by themselves."

  He had the paper in his hand by now. The lawyer made a movement to takeit. Then he restrained himself.

  "Tell me, first," he said.

  "Well, sir," said George, with a pardonable satisfaction in spinning thematter out, "one was all covered with notes, and was headed 'Padley.' Iread that through, sir. It had to do with the buildings and the acres,and so forth. The second paper I could make nothing out of; it was incypher, I think. The third paper was the same; and the fourth, sir, wasthat which I have here."

  The lawyer started.

  "But I told you--"

  "Yes, sir; I should have said that this is the copy--or, at least, anabstract. I made the abstract by the window, sir, crouching down so thatnone should see me. Then I put all back as before, and came out again;the fellow was fast asleep against the door."

  "And Topcliffe--"

  "Mr. Topcliffe, sir, returned half an hour afterwards in company againwith Mr. Hamilton. I waited a few minutes to see that all was well, andthen I came to you, sir."

  There was silence in the little room for a moment. It was the small backoffice of Mr. Biddell, where he did his more intimate business, lookingout on to a paved court. The town was for the most part asleep, andhardly a sound came through the closed windows.

  Then the lawyer turned and put out his hand for the paper without aword. He nodded to George, who went out, bidding him good-night.

  * * * * *

  Ten minutes later Mr. Biddell walked quietly through the passengers'gate by the side of the great doors that led to the court besideBabington House, closing it behind him. He knew that it would be leftunbarred till eleven o'clock that night. He passed on through the court,past the house door, to the steward's office, where through heavycurtains a light glimmered. As he put his hand on the door it opened,and Marjorie was there. He said nothing, nor did she. Her face was paleand steady, and there was a question in her eyes. For answer he put thepaper into her hands, and sat down while she read it. The stillness wasas deep here as in the office he had just left.

  IV

  It was a minute or two before either spoke. The girl read the papertwice through, holding it close to the little hand-lamp that stood onthe table.

  "You see, mistress," he said, "it is as bad as it can be."

  She handed back the paper to him; he slid out his spectacles, put themon, and held the writing to the light.

  "Here are the points, you see ..." he went on. "I have annotated them inthe margin. First, that Thomas FitzHerbert be released from Derby gaolwithin three days from the leaving of Topcliffe for London, and that hebe no more troubled, neither in fines nor imprisonment; next, that hehave secured to him, so far as the laws shall permit, all hisinheritance from Sir Thomas, from
his father, and from any otherbequests whether of his blood-relations or no; thirdly, that Topcliffedo 'persecute to the death'"--(the lawyer paused, cast a glance at thedowncast face of the girl) "'--do persecute to the death' his uncle SirThomas, his father John, and William Bassett his kinsman; and, in returnfor all this, Thomas FitzHerbert shall become her Grace's swornservant--that is, Mistress Manners, her Grace's spy, pursuivant,informer and what-not--and that he shall grant and secure to RichardTopcliffe, Esquire, and to his heirs for ever, 'the manors of OverPadley and Nether Padley, on the Derwent, with six messuages, twocottages, ten gardens, ten orchards, a thousand acres of land, fivehundred acres of meadow-land, six hundred acres of pasture, threehundred acres of wood, a thousand acres of furze and heath, in Padley,Grindleford and Lyham, in the parish of Hathersage, in consideration ofeight hundred marks of silver, to be paid to Thomas FitzHerbert,Esquire, etc.'"

  The lawyer put the paper down, and pushed his spectacles on to hisforehead.

  "That is a legal instrument?" asked the girl quietly, still withdowncast eyes.

  "It is not yet fully completed, but it is signed and witnessed. It canbecome a legal instrument by Topcliffe's act; and it would passmuster--"

  "It is signed by Mr. Thomas?"

  He nodded.

  She was silent again. He began to tell her of how he had obtained it,and of George's subtlety and good fortune; but she seemed to pay noattention. She sat perfectly still. When he had ended, she spoke again.

  "A sworn servant of her Grace--" she began.

  "Topcliffe is a sworn servant of her Grace," he said bitterly; "you mayjudge by that what Thomas FitzHerbert hath become."

  "We shall have his hand, too, against us all, then?"

  "Yes, mistress; and, what is worse, this paper I take it--" (he tappedit) "this paper is to be a secret for the present. Mr. Thomas will stillfeign himself to be a Catholic, with Catholics, until he comes into allhis inheritances. And, meantime, he will supply information to his newmasters."

  "Why cannot we expose him?"

  "Where is the proof? He will deny it."

  She paused.

  "We can at least tell his family. You will draw up the informations?"

  "I will do so."

  "And send them to Sir Thomas and Mr. Bassett?"

  "I will do so."

  "That may perhaps prevent his inheritance coming to him as quickly as hethinks."

  The lawyer's eyes gleamed.

  "And what of Mrs. Thomas, mistress?"

  Marjorie lifted her eyes.

  "I do not think a great deal of Mrs. Thomas," she said. "She is honest,I think; but she could not be trusted with a secret. But I will tellMistress Babington, and I will warn what priests I can."

  "And if it leaks out?"

  "It must leak out."

  "And yourself? Can you meet Mr. Thomas again just now? He will be out inthree days."

  Marjorie drew a long breath.

  "No, sir; I cannot meet him. I should betray what I felt. I shall makeexcuses to Mrs. Thomas, and go home to-morrow."

  PART III