CHAPTER IV
I
In spite of his plans and his hopes and his dreams, it was with anamazement beyond all telling, that Mr. Robert Alban found himself, atnine o'clock next morning, conducted by two men through the hall atChartley to the little parlour where he was to await Sir Amyas Pauletand the Queen's apothecary.
* * * * *
Matters had been arranged last night with that promptness which alonecould make the tale possible. He had walked back with the old man infull view of the little hamlet, to all appearances, the best of oldfriends; and after providing for a room in the sick woman's house forRobin himself, another in another house for Mr. Arnold, and stabling forthe horses in a shed where occasionally the spent horses of the courierswere housed when Chartley stables were overflowing--after all this hadbeen arranged by Mr. Bourgoign in person, the two walked on to the greatgates of the park, where they took an affectionate farewell withinhearing of the sentry, the apothecary promising to see Sir Amyas thatnight and to communicate with his friend in the morning. Robin hadlearned previously how strict was the watch set about the Queen'sperson, particularly since the news of the Babington plot had firstreached the authorities, and of the extraordinary difficulty to theapproach of any stranger to her presence. Nau and Curle, her twosecretaries, had been arrested and perhaps racked a week or ten daysbefore; all the Queen's papers had been taken from her, and even herjewellery and pictures sent off to Elizabeth; and the only personsordinarily allowed to speak with her, besides her gaoler, were two ofher women, and Mr. Bourgoign himself.
That morning then, before six o'clock, Robin had said mass in the sickwoman's room and given her communion, with her companion, who answeredhis mass, as it was thought more prudent that the other priest shouldnot even be present; and, at the close of the mass he had reserved in alittle pyx, hidden beneath his clothes, a consecrated particle. Mr.Bourgoign had said that he would see to it that the Queen should befasting up to ten o'clock that day.
And now the last miracle had been accomplished. A servant had come downlate the night before, with a discreet letter from the apothecary,saying that Sir Amyas had consented to receive and examine for himselfthe travelling physician from Paris; and here now went Robin, strivingto remember the old Latin names he had learned as a boy, and to carry amedical air with him.
* * * * *
The parlour in which he found himself was furnished severely and evenrather sparely, owing, perhaps, he thought, to the temporary nature ofthe household. It was the custom in great houses to carry with thefamily, from house to house, all luxuries such as extra hangings orpainted pictures or carpets, as well as even such things as cookingutensils; and in the Queen's sudden removal back again from Tixall, manymatters must have been neglected. The oak wainscoting was completelybare; and over the upper parts of the walls in many places the stonesshowed through between the ill-fitting tapestries. A sheaf of pikesstood in one corner; an oil portrait of an unknown worthy in the dressof fifty years ago hung over one of the doors; a large round oak table,with ink-horn and pounce-box, stood in the centre of the room withstools beside it: there was no hearth or chimney visible; and there wasno tapestry upon the floor: a skin only lay between the windows. Thepriest sat down and waited.
He had enough to occupy his mind; for not only had he the thought of thecharacter he was to sustain presently under the scrutiny of a suspiciousman; but he had the prospect, as he hoped, of coming into the presenceof the most-talked-of woman in Europe, and of ministering to her as apriest alone could do, in her sorest need. His hand went to his breastas he considered it, and remembered What he bore ... and he felt thetiny flat circular case press upon his heart....
For his imagination was all aflame at the thought of Mary. Not only hadhe been kindled again and again in the old days by poor Anthony's talk,until the woman seemed to him half-deified already; but man after manhad repeated the same tale, that she was, in truth, that which her leancousin of England desired to be thought--a very paragon of women,innocent, holy, undefiled, yet of charm to drive men to their kneesbefore her presence. It was said that she was as one of those strangemoths which, confined behind glass, will draw their mates out of thedarkness to beat themselves to death against her prison; she wasexquisite, they said, in her pale beauty, and yet more exquisite in herpain; she exuded a faint and intoxicating perfume of womanliness, like acrushed herb. Yet she was to be worshipped, rather than loved--asacrament to be approached kneeling, an incarnate breath of heaven, themore lovely from the vileness into which her life had been cast and theslanders that were about her name.... More marvellous than all was thatthose who knew her best and longest loved her most; her servants wept orgroaned themselves into fevers if they were excluded from her too long;of her as of the Wisdom of old might it be said that, "They who ate herhungered yet, and they who drank her thirsted yet."... It was to thismiracle of humanity, then, that this priest was to come....
* * * * *
He sat up suddenly, once more pressing his hand to his breast, where hisTreasure lay hidden, as he heard steps crossing the paved hall outside.Then he rose to his feet and bowed as a tall man came swiftly in,followed by the apothecary.
II
It was a lean, harsh-faced man that he saw, long-moustached andmelancholy-eyed--"grim as a goose," as the physician had said--wearing,even in this guarded household, a half-breast and cap of steel. A longsword jingled beside him on the stone floor and clashed with his spurredboots. He appeared the last man in the world to be the companion of asorrowing Queen; and it was precisely for this reason that he had beenchosen to replace the courtly lord Shrewsbury and the gentle Sir RalphSadler. (Her Grace of England said that she had had enough of nurses forgaolers.) His voice, too, resembled the bitter clash of a key in a lock.
"Well, sir," he said abruptly, "Mr. Bourgoign tells me you are a friendof his."
"I have that honour, sir."
"You met in Paris, eh?... And you profess a knowledge of herbs beyondthe ordinary?"
"Mr. Bourgoign is good enough to say so."
"And you are after her Grace of Scotland, as they call her, like all therest of them, eh?"
"I shall be happy to put what art I possess at her Grace of Scotland'sservice."
"Traitors say as much as that, sir."
"In the cause of treachery, no doubt, sir."
Sir Amyas barked a kind of laugh.
"_Vous avez raisong_," he said with a deplorable accent. "As her Gracewould say. And you come purely by chance to Chartley, no doubt!"
The sneer was unmistakable. Robin met it full.
"Not for one moment, sir. I was on my way to Derby. I could have saved afew miles if I had struck north long ago. But Chartley is interesting inthese days."
(He saw Mr. Bourgoign's eyes gleam with satisfaction.)
"That is honest at least, sir. And why is Chartley interesting?"
"Because her Grace is here," answered Robin with sublime simplicity.
Sir Amyas barked again. It seemed he liked this way of talk. For amoment or two his eyes searched Robin--hard, narrow eyes like a dog's;he looked him up and down.
"Where are your drugs, sir?"
Robin smiled.
"A herbalist does not need to carry drugs," he said. "They grow in everyhedgerow if a man has eyes to see what God has given him."
"That is true enough. I would we had more talk about God His Majesty inthis household, and less of Popish trinkets and fiddle-faddle.... Well,sir; do you think you can cure her ladyship?"
"I have no opinion on the point at all, sir. I do not know what is thematter with her--beyond what Mr. Bourgoign has told me," he addedhastily, remembering the supposed situation.
The soldier paid no attention. Like all slow-witted men, he wasfollowing up an irrelevant train of thought from his own last sentencebut one.
"Fiddle-faddle!" he said again. "I am sick of her megrims and hervapours and her humours.
Has she not blood and bones like the rest ofus? And yet she cannot take her food nor her drink, nor sleep like anhonest woman. And I do not wonder at it; for that is what she is not.They will say she is poisoned, I dare say.... Well, sir; I suppose youhad best see her; but in my presence, remember, sir; in my presence."
Robin's spirits sank like a stone.... Moreover, he would be instantlydetected as a knave (though that honestly seemed a lesser matter tohim), if he attempted to talk medically in Sir Amyas' presence; unlessthat warrior was truly as great a clod as he seemed. He determined torisk it. He bowed.
"I can at least try my poor skill, sir," he said.
Sir Amyas instantly turned, with a jerk of his head to beckon them, andclanked out again into the hall. There was not a moment's opportunityfor the two conspirators to exchange even a word; for there, in thehall, stood the two men who had brought Robin in, to keep guard; and asthe party passed through to the foot of the great staircase, he saw oneach landing that was in sight another sentry, and, at a door at the endof the overhead gallery, against which hung a heavy velvet curtain,stood the last, a stern figure to keep guard on the rooms of a Queen,with his body-armour complete, a steel hat on his head and a pike in hishand.
It was to this door that Sir Amyas went, acknowledging with a lift ofthe finger the salute of his men. (It was plain that this place wasunder strict military discipline.) With the two, the real and the falsephysician following him, he pulled aside the curtain and rappedimperiously on the door. It was opened after a moment's delay by afrightened-faced woman.
"Her Grace?" demanded the officer sharply. "Is she still abed?"
"Her Grace is risen, sir," said the woman tremulously; "she is in theinner room."
Sir Amyas strode straight on, pulled aside a second curtain hanging overthe further door, rapped upon that, too, and without even waiting for ananswer this time, beyond the shrill barking of dogs within, opened itand passed in. Mr. Bourgoign followed; and Robin came last. The doorclosed softly behind him.
III
The room was furnished with more decency than any he had seen in thisharsh house; for, although at the time he thought that he had no eyesfor anything but one figure which it contained, he found himselfafterwards able to give a very tolerable account of its generalappearance. The walls were hung throughout with a dark-blue velvethanging, stamped with silver fleur-de-lys. There were tapestries on thefloor, between which gleamed the polished oak boards, perfectly kept, bythe labours (no doubt) of her Grace's two women (since such things wouldbe mere "fiddle-faddle" to the honest soldier); a graceful French tableran down the centre of the room, very delicately carved, and beneath ittwo baskets from which looked out the indignant heads of a couple oflittle spaniels; upon it, at the nearer end, were three or four cages ofturtle-doves, melancholy-looking in this half-lit room; old,sun-bleached curtains of the same material as that which hung on thewalls, shrouded the two windows on the right, letting but a half lightinto the room: there was a further door, also curtained, diagonallyopposite that by which the party had entered; and in the centre of thesame wall a tall blue canopy, fringed with silver, rose to the ceiling.Beneath it, on a dais of a single step, stood a velvet chair, withgilded arms, and worked with the royal shield in the embroidery of theback--with a crowned lion _sejant, guardant_, for the crest above thecrown. Half a dozen more chairs were ranged about the table; and, on acouch, with her feet swathed in draperies, with a woman standing overher behind, as if she had just risen up from speaking in her ear, laythe Queen of the Scots. A tall silver and ebony crucifix, with a coupleof velvet-bound, silver-clasped little books, stood on the table withinreach of her hand, and a folded handkerchief beside them.
Mary was past her prime long ago; she was worn with sorrow and slandersand miseries; yet she appeared to the priest's eyes, even then, like afigure of a dream. It was partly, no doubt, the faintness of the lightthat came in through the half-shrouded windows that obliterated thelines and fallen patches that her face was beginning to bear; and shelay, too, with her back even to such light as there was. Yet for allthat, and even if he had not known who she was, Robin could not havetaken his eyes from her face. She lay there like a fallen flower, paleas a lily, beaten down at last by the waves and storms that had goneover her; and she was more beautiful in her downfall and disgrace, athousand times, than when she had come first to Holyrood, or danced inthe Courts of France.
Now it is not in the features one by one that beauty lies but rather inthe coincidence of them all. Her face was almost waxen now, blueshadowed beneath the two waves of pale hair; she had a small mouth, adelicate nose, and large, searching hazel eyes. Her head-dress was ofwhite, with silver pins in it; a light white shawl was claspedcross-wise over her shoulders; and she wore a loose brocadeddressing-gown beneath it. Her hands, clasped as if in prayer, emergedout of deep lace-fringed sleeves, and were covered with rings. But itwas the air of almost superhuman delicacy that breathed from her mostforcibly; and, when she spoke, a ring of assured decision revealed herquiet consciousness of royalty. It was an extraordinary mingling offragility and power, of which this feminine and royal room was theproper frame.
Sir Amyas knelt perfunctorily, as if impatient of it; and rose up againat once without waiting for the signal. Mary lifted her fingers a littleas a sign to the other two.
"I have brought the French doctor, madam," said the soldier abruptly."But he must see your Grace in my presence."
"Then you might as well have spared him, and yourself, the pains, sir,"came the quiet, dignified voice. "I do not choose to be examined in yourpresence."
Robin lifted his eyes to her face; but although he thought he caught anunder air of intense desire towards him and That which he bore, therewas no faltering in the tone of her voice. It was, as some man said, as"soft as running water heard by night."
"This is absurd, madam. I am responsible for your Grace's security andgood health. But there are lengths--"
"You have spoken the very word," said the Queen. "There are lengths towhich none of us should go, even to preserve our health."
"I tell you, madam--"
"There is no more to be said, sir," said the Queen, closing her eyesagain.
"But what do I know of this fellow? How can I tell he is what heprofesses to be?" barked Sir Amyas.
"Then you should never have admitted him at all," said the Queen,opening her eyes again. "And I will do the best that I can--"
"But, madam, your health is my care; and Mr. Bourgoign here tells me--"
"The subject does not interest me," murmured the Queen, apparently halfasleep.
"But I will retire to the corner and turn my back, if that isnecessary," growled the soldier.
There was no answer. She lay with closed eyes, and her woman began againto fan her gently.
* * * * *
Robin began to understand the situation a little better. It was plainthat Sir Amyas was a great deal more anxious for the Queen's health thanhe pretended to be, or he would never have tolerated such objections.The Queen, too, must know of this, or she would not have ventured, withso much at stake, to treat him with such maddening rebuffs. There hadbeen rumours (verified later) that Elizabeth had actually caused it tobe suggested to Sir Amyas that he should poison his prisoner decentlyand privately, and thereby save a great deal of trouble and scandal; andthat Sir Amyas had refused with indignation. Perhaps, if all this weretrue, thought Robin, the officer was especially careful on this veryaccount that the Queen's health should be above suspicion. He rememberedthat Sir Amyas had referred just now to a suspicion of poison.... Hedetermined on the bold line.
"Her Grace has spoken, sir," he said modestly. "And I think I shouldhave a word to say. It is plain to me, by looking at her Grace, that herhealth is very far from what it should be--" (he pausedsignificantly)--"I should have to make a thorough examination, if Iprescribed at all; and, even should her Grace consent to this being donepublicly, for my part I would not consent. I should be happy to have herwom
en here, but--"
Sir Amyas turned on him wrathfully.
"Why, sir, you said downstairs--"
"I had not then seen her Grace. But there is no more to be said--" Hekneeled again as if to take his leave, stood up, and began to retire tothe door. Mr. Bourgoign stood helpless.
Then Sir Amyas yielded.
"You shall have fifteen minutes, sir. No more," he cried harshly. "And Ishall remain in the next room."
He made a perfunctory salute and strode out.
The Queen opened her eyes, waited for one tense instant till the doorclosed; then she slipped swiftly off the couch.
"The door!" she whispered.
The woman was across the room in an instant, on tip-toe, and drew thesingle slender bolt. The Queen made a sharp gesture; the woman fled backagain on one side, and out through the further door, and the old manhobbled after her. It was as if every detail had been rehearsed. Thedoor closed noiselessly.
Then the Queen rose up, as Robin, understanding, began to fumble withhis breast. And, as he drew out the pyx, and placed it on thehandkerchief (in reality a corporal), apparently so carelessly laid bythe crucifix, Mary sank down in adoration of her Lord.
"Now, _mon pere_," she whispered, still kneeling, but lifting herstar-bright eyes. And the priest went across to the couch where theQueen had lain, and sat down on it.
"_In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti_--" began Mary.
IV
When the confession was finished, Robin went across, at the Queen'sorder, and tapped with his finger-nail upon the door, while she herselfremained on her knees. The door opened instantly, and the two came in,the woman first, bearing two lighted tapers. She set these down one oneither side of the crucifix, and herself knelt with the old physician.
... Then Robin gave holy communion to the Queen of the Scots....
V
She was back again on her couch now, once more as drowsy-looking asever. The candlesticks were gone again; the handkerchief still in itsplace, and the woman back again behind the couch. The two men kneeledclose beside her, near enough to hear every whisper.
"Listen, gentlemen," she said softly, "I cannot tell you what you havedone for my soul to-day--both of you, since I could never have had thepriest without my friend.... I cannot reward you, but our Lord will doso abundantly.... Listen, I know that I am going to my death, and Ithank God that I have made my peace with Him. I do not know if they willallow me to see a priest again. But I wish to say this to both ofyou--as I said just now in my confession, to you, _mon pere_--that I amwholly and utterly guiltless of the plot laid to my charge; that I hadneither part nor wish nor consent in it. I desired only to escape frommy captivity.... I would have made war, if I could, yes, but as foraccomplishing or assisting in her Grace's death, the thought was nevernear me. Those whom I thought my friends have entrapped me, and havegiven colour to the tale. I pray our Saviour to forgive them as I do;and with that Saviour now in my breast I tell you--and you may tell allthe world if you will--that I am guiltless of what they impute to me. Ishall die for my Religion, and nothing but that. And I thank you again,_mon pere, et vous, mon ami, que vous avez_...."
Her voice died away in inaudible French, and her eyes closed.
* * * * *
Robin's eyes were raining tears, but he leaned forward and kissed herhand as it lay on the edge of the couch. He felt himself touched on theshoulder, and he stood up. The old man's eyes, too, were brimming withtears.
"I must let Sir Amyas in," he whispered. "You must be ready."
"What shall I say?"
"Say that you will prescribe privately, to me: and that her Grace'shealth is indeed delicate, but not gravely impaired.... You understand?"
Robin nodded, passing his sleeve over his eyes. The woman touched theQueen's shoulder to rouse her, and Mr. Bourgoign opened the door.
VI
"And now, sir," said Mr. Bourgoign, as the two passed out from the househalf an hour later, "I have one more word to say to you. Listencarefully, if you please, for there is not much time."
He glanced behind him, but the tall figure was gone from the door; thereremained only the two pikemen that kept ward over the great house on thesteps.
"Come this way," said the physician, and led the priest through into thelittle walled garden on the south. "He will think we are finishing ourconsultation."
* * * * *
"I cannot tell you," he said presently, "all that I think of yourcourage and your wit. You made a bold stroke when you told him you wouldbegone again, unless you could see her Grace alone, and again when yousaid you had come to Chartley because she was here. And you may goagain now, knowing you have comforted a woman in her greatest need. Theysent her chaplain from her when she left here for Tixall in July, andshe has not had him again yet. She is watched at every point. They havetaken all her papers from her, and have seduced M. Nau, I fear. Did youhear anything of him in town?"
"No," said the priest. "I know nothing of him."
"He is a Frenchman, and hath been with her Grace more than ten years. Hehath written her letters for her, and been privy to all her counsels.And I fear he hath been seduced from her at last. It was said that Mr.Walsingham was to take him into his house.... Well, but we have not timefor this. What I have to ask you is whether you could come again to us?"
He peered at the priest almost timorously. Robin was startled.
"Come again?" he said. "Why--"
"You see you have already won to her presence, and Sir Amyas iscommitted to it that you are a safe man. I shall tell her Grace, too,that she must eat and drink well, and get better, if she would see youagain, for that will establish you in Sir Amyas' eyes."
"But will she not have a priest?"
"I know nothing, Mr. Alban. They even shut me up here when they took herto Tixall; and even now none but myself and her two women have access toher. I do not know even if her Grace will be left here. There has beentalk among the men of going to Fotheringay. I know nothing, from day today. It is a ... a _cauchemar_. But they will certainly do what they canto shake her. It grows more rigorous every day. And I thought, that ifyou would tell me whether a message could reach you, and if her chaplainis not allowed to see her again, you might be able to come again. Iwould tell Sir Amyas how much good you had done to her last time, withyour herbs; and, it might be, you could see her again in a month or twoperhaps--or later."
Robin was silent.
The greatness of the affair terrified him; yet its melancholy drew him.He had seen her on whom all England bent its thoughts at this time, whowas a crowned Queen, with broad lands and wealth, who called Elizabeth"sister"; yet who was more of a prisoner than any in the Fleet orWestminster Gatehouse, since those at least could have their friends tocome to them. Her hidden fires, too, had warmed him--that passion forGod that had burst from her when her gaoler left her, and she had flungherself on her knees before her hidden Saviour. It may be he had doubtedher before (he did not know); but there was no more doubt in him afterher protestation of her innocence. He began to see now that she stoodfor more than her kingdom or her son or the plots attributed to her,that she was more than a mere great woman, for whose sake men could bothlive and die; he began to see in her that which poor Anthony had seen--achampion for the Faith of them all, an incarnate suffering symbol, inflesh and blood, of that Religion for which he, too, was in peril--thatReligion, which, in spite of all clamour to the contrary, was the realstorm-centre of England's life.
He turned then to the old man with a suddenly flushed face.
"A message will always reach me at Mistress Manners' house, at Booth'sEdge, near Hathersage, in Derbyshire. And I will come from there, orfrom the world's end, to serve her Grace."