CHAPTER XXXVI.
Thou seest me much distempered in my mind--Dryden.
Sir Payan Wileton had gone through life with fearless daring;calculating, but never hesitating; keen-sighted of danger, but nevertimid. From youth he had divested himself of the three great fearswhich generally affect mankind: the fear of the world's opinion, thefear of his own conscience, and the fear of death; and, thus enduedwith much bad courage, he had attempted and succeeded in many thingswhich would have frightened a timid man, and failed with an irresoluteone. And yet, as we have seen, by one of those strange contradictionsof which human nature is full, Sir Payan, though an unbeliever in thebright truths of religion, was credulous to many of the darkestsuperstitions of the age in which he lived.
On such a mind, anything that smacked of supernatural presentiment waslikely to take the firmest hold; and, on the morning after LadyConstance had, by his means and by his instigation, effected herflight from Richmond, he rose early from a troubled sleep,overshadowed by a deep despondency, which had never till then hungupon him. Before he was yet dressed, the news was brought him that oneof his men had returned with the boat, and that the other had beenarrested in the king's name. He felt his good fortune had passed away;an internal voice seemed to tell him that it was at an end; but yet heomitted no measures of security, quitting the capital without loss oftime, and leaving such instructions with the porter as he deemed mostlikely to blind the eyes of Wolsey; hoping that the servant, whoselife was in his power, would not betray him, yet prepared, if he did,boldly to repel the charge, and by producing evidence to invalidatethe other's testimony, to cast the accusation back upon his head.
But still, from that moment Sir Payan was an altered being; and thoughmany days passed by without anything occurring to disturb his repose;though the king's progress towards Dover, without any notice havingbeen taken of his participation in Lady Constance's escape, led him tobelieve that fear had kept the servant faithful; yet still Sir Payanremained in a state of gloom and lassitude, that raised many a marvelamongst those around him.
Wandering through the woods that surrounded his mansion, he passedhours and hours in deep, inactive, bitter meditation; finding noconsolation in his own heart, no hope in the future, and no repose inthe past; and, why he knew not, despairing where he had neverdespaired, trembling where he had never known fear.
Often he questioned himself upon the strange depression of his mind;and the more he did so, the more he became convinced that it was asupernatural warning of approaching fate. Many were the resolutionsthat he made to shake it off, to struggle still, to seek the court,and urge his claim on the estates of Constance de Grey, as he wouldhave done in former days; but in vain: a leaden power lay heavy uponhis heart, and crushed all its usual energies; and the only effort hecould make was to send out servants in every direction to seek SirCesar the astrologer, weakly hoping to brace up his relaxed confidenceby some predictions of success. But the old man was not easily to befound. No one knew his abode, and, ever strange and erratic in hismotions, he seemed now agitated by some extraordinary impulse, so thateven when they had once found his track, the servants of Sir Payan hadoften to trace him to ten or twelve houses in the course of a day.Sometimes it was in the manor of the peer, sometimes in the cottage ofthe peasant, that they heard of him; but in none did he seem tosojourn for above an hour, hurrying on wildly to the dwelling of someother amongst the many that he knew in all classes.
At length they overtook him on the road near Sandgate, and deliveredSir Payan's message; whereupon, without any reply, he turned his horseand rode towards Chilham, where he arrived in the evening. Springingto the ground without any appearance of fatigue, the old man soughtSir Payan in the park, to which the servants said he had retired; and,winding through the various long alleys, found him at length walkingbackwards and forwards, with his arms crossed on his bosom and hiseyes fixed upon the ground. The evening sunshine was streamingbrightly upon the spot, pouring a mellow misty light through thewestern trees, on the tall dark figure of Sir Payan, who, bending downhis head, paced along with gloomy slowness, like some bad spiritoppressed and tormented by the smile of heaven.
It was a strange sight to see his meeting with Sir Cesar; both werepale and haggard; for some cause, only known to himself, had worn thekeen features of the astrologer till the bones and cartilages seemedstarting through the skin; and Sir Payan's ashy cheek had latelyacquired a still more deadly hue than it usually wore. Both, too,looked wild and fearful; the keen black eyes of the old man showingwith a terrific brightness in his thin and livid face, and the sternfeatures of Sir Payan appearing full of a sort of ferocious light,which his attendants had remarked, ever since he had been overthrownin the tilt by the lance of Sir Osborne. Meeting thus, in the fullyellow sunshine, while Sir Cesar fixed his usual intense andscrutinising glance upon the countenance of the other, and Sir Payanstrove to receive him with a smile that but mocked the lips it shoneupon, they looked like two beings of another world, met for the firsttime in upper air, to commune of things long past.
"Well, unhappy man," said Sir Cesar at length, "what seekest thou withme?"
"That I am unhappy," replied Sir Payan, knitting his brow, as he sawthat little consolation was to be expected from the astrologer, "I donot deny; and it is to know why I am unhappy that I have asked you tocome hither."
"You are unhappy," answered Sir Cesar, "because you have plundered thewidow and the orphan, because you have wronged the friendless and theweak, because you have betrayed the confident and the generous. Youare unhappy because there is not one in the wide world that loves you,and because you even despise, and hate, and reprobate yourself."
"Old man! old man!" cried Sir Payan, half unsheathing his dagger,"beware, beware! Those men only," he added, pushing back the weaponinto its sheath, "ought to be unhappy that are unsuccessful; the restis all a bugbear set up by the weak to frighten away the strong. But Ihave been successful, am successful. Why then am I unhappy?"
"Because your success is at an end," replied the astrologer: "becauseyou tremble to your fall; because your days are numbered, and lateremorse is gnawing your heart in spite of your vain boasting. Nay, laynot your hand on the hilt of your dagger! Over me, murderer, you haveno power! That dagger took the life of one that had never wronged you.Remember the rout at Taunton; remember the youth murdered the nightafter he surrendered!" Sir Payan trembled like an aspen leaf while theold man spoke. "Yes, murderer!" continued Sir Cesar; "though youthought the deed hid in the bowels of the earth, I know it all. Thathand slew all that was dearest to me on earth!--the child that unhappyfortune forced me to leave upon this cursed shore; and long, long agoshould his fate have been avenged in your blood, had not I seen, hadnot I known, that heaven willed it otherwise. I have waited patientlyfor the hour that is now come; I have broken your bread, and I havedrunk of your wine; but while I did so, I have seen you gatheringcurses on your head, and accumulating sins to sink you to perdition,and that has taught me to endure. I would not have saved you one hourof crime, I would not have robbed my revenge of one single sin--no,not for an empire! But I have watched you go on, gloriously,triumphantly, in evil and in wickedness, till heaven can bear no more;till you have eaten up your future; and soon, with all your crimesupon your head, hated, despised, condemned by all mankind, your blacksoul shall be parted from your body, and my eyes shall see you die."
Sir Payan had listened with varied emotions as the old man spoke.Surprise, remorse, and fear had been the first; but gradually the moretempestuous feelings of his nature hurried away the rest, and, ragegaining mastery of all, he drew his poniard and sprang upon Sir Cesar.But in the very act, as his arm was raised to strike, he was caught bytwo powerful men, who threw him back upon the ground and disarmed him;one of them exclaiming, "Ho, ho! we have just come in time. Sir PayanWileton, you are attached in the king's name. Lo, here is the warrantfor your apprehension. You must come with us, sir, to Calais."
One would attempt in vain to describe the rage
that convulsed the formof Sir Payan Wileton, more especially when he beheld Sir Cesar smileupon him with a look of triumphant satisfaction.
"Seize him!" exclaimed he, with furious violence, pointing to theastrologer; "seize him, if you love your king and your country! He isa marked and obnoxious traitor. I impeach him, and you do not yourduty if you let him escape; or are you his confederates, and come upto prevent my punishing him for the treasons he has justacknowledged?"
"Sir Payan Wileton," replied the sergeant-at-arms, "this passion isall in vain. I am sent here with a warrant from the king's privycouncil to attach you for high treason; but I have no authority toarrest any one else."
"But I am a magistrate," cried the baffled knight; "let him notescape, I enjoin you, till I have had time to commit him. He is atraitor, I say, and if you seize him not, you art the king's enemies."
"Attached for high treason, sir, you are no longer a magistrate,"replied the sergeant. "At all events, I do not hold myself justifiedin apprehending anybody against whom I have no warrant, moreespecially when I found you raising your hand illegally against thevery person's life whom you now accuse. I can take no heed of thematter: you must come."
"He shall be satisfied," said Sir Cesar. "Venomless serpent! I willfollow thee now till thy last hour. But think not that thou canst hurtme, for thy power has gone from thee; and though wicked as a demon,thou art weak as a child. I know that we are doomed to pass the samegate, but not to journey on the same road. Lead on, sergeant; I willgo on with you; and then, if this bad man have aught to urge againstme, let him do it."
"Go if you will, sir," replied the officer; "but remember, you actaccording to your own pleasure; I make no arrest in your case: you arefree to come with us or to stay, as you think fit."
Sir Payan was now led back to the house, which was in possession ofthe king's archers; and as he passed through his own hall, with aburning heart, the hasty glance that he cast around amongst hisservants showed him at once, that though there were none to pity orbefriend, there were many full ready to betray. Then rushed upon hismind the accusations that they might pile upon his head, now that theysaw him sinking below the stream. The certainty of death; the dread ofsomething after death; doubts of his own scepticism; the innate,all-powerful conviction of a future state--a state growing dreadfullyperceptible to his eye as he approached the brink of that yawning gulfwhich his own acts had peopled with strange fears; all that he hadscoffed at, all that he had despised, now assumed a new and fearfulcharacter: even the world's opinion, the world's contemned opinion,came across his thought: that there was not one heart on all the earthwould mourn his end, that hatred and abhorrence would go with him tothe grave, and that his memory would only live with infamy in therecords of crime and punishment. Burying his face in his hands, he satin deep, despairing, agonising silence while his horse was beingprepared, and while the officer put his seal upon the various doorswhich he thought it necessary to secure.
A few hours brought the whole party to Dover, and the next day sawtheir arrival at Calais; but by that time the court had removed toGuisnes; and the sergeant, having no orders to bring his prisonerfarther, sent forward a messenger to announce his arrival and demandinstructions.