CHAPTER III
A HOUSE OF LADIES
They parted the next day, Dr. Layton to Waverly, where he proposed tosleep on Saturday night, and Ralph to the convent at Rusper.
He had learnt now how the work was to be done; and he had been equippedfor it in a way that not even Dr. Layton himself suspected; for he hadbeen set aflame with that filth-fed fire with which so many hearts wereburning at this time. He had all the saint's passion for purity, withoutthe charity of his holiness.
He had learnt too the technical details of his work--those rough methodsby which men might be coerced, and the high-sounding phrases with whichto gild the coercion. All that morning he had sat side by side with Dr.Layton in the chapter-house, inspecting the books, comparing thepossessions of the monastery with the inventories of them, examiningwitnesses as to the credibility of the lists offered, and makingsearching enquiries as to whether any land or plate had been sold. Afterthat, when a silver relic-case had been added to Dr. Layton'scollection, the Religious and servants and all else who cared to offerevidence on other matters, were questioned one by one and their answersentered in a book. Lastly, when the fees for the Visitation had beencollected, arrangements had been made, which in the Visitors' opinion,would be most serviceable to the carrying out of the injunctions; freshofficials were appointed to various posts, and the Abbot himselfordered to go up to London and present himself to Master Cromwell; buthe was furnished with a letter commending his zeal and discretion, forthe Visitors had found that he had done his duty to the buildings andlands; and stated that they had nothing to complain of except thepoverty of the house.
"And so much for Durford," said Layton genially, as he closed the lastbook just before dinner-time, "though it had been better calledDirtyford." And he chuckled at his humour.
After dinner he had gone out with Ralph to see him mount; had thankedhim for his assistance, and had reminded him that they would meet againat Lewes in the course of a month or so.
"God speed you!" he cried as the party rode off.
* * * * *
Ralph's fury had died to a glow, but it was red within him; the readinglast night had done its work well, driven home by the shrewd convictionof a man of the world, experienced in the ways of vice. It had not diedwith the dark. He could not say that he was attracted to Dr. Layton; thepriest's shocking familiarity with the more revolting forms of sin, aswell as his under-breeding and brutality, made him a disagreeablecharacter; but Ralph had very little doubt now that his judgment on thereligious houses was a right one. Even the nunneries, it seemed, werenot free from taint; there had been one or two terrible tales on theprevious evening; and Ralph was determined to spare them nothing, and atany rate to remove his sister from their power. He remembered withsatisfaction that she was below the age specified, and that he wouldhave authority to dismiss her from the home.
He knew very little of Margaret; and had scarcely seen her once in twoyears. He had been already out in the world before she had ceased to bea child, and from what little he had seen of her he had thought of herbut as little more than a milk-and-water creature, very delicate andshy, always at her prayers, or trailing about after nuns with a paleradiant face. She had been sent to Rusper for her education, and henever saw her except now and then when they chanced to be at hometogether for a few days. She used to look at him, he remembered, withawe-stricken eyes and parted lips, hardly daring to speak when he was inthe room, continually to be met with going from or to the tall quietchapel.
He had always supposed that she would be a nun, and had acquiesced in itin a cynical sort of way; but he was going to acquiesce no longer now.Of course she would sob, but equally of course she would not dare toresist.
He called Morris up to him presently as they emerged from one of thebridle paths on to a kind of lane where two could ride abreast. Theservant had seemed oddly silent that morning.
"We are going to Rusper," said Ralph.
"Yes, sir."
"Mistress Margaret is there."
"Yes, sir."
"She will come away with us. I may have to send you on to Overfield withher. You must find a horse for her somehow."
"Yes, sir."
There was silence between the two for a minute or two. Mr. Morris hadanswered with as much composure as if he had been told to brush a coat.Ralph began to wonder what he really felt.
"What do you think of all this, Morris?" he asked in a moment or two.
The servant was silent, till Ralph glanced at him impatiently.
"It is not for me to have an opinion, sir," said Mr Morris.
Ralph gave a very short laugh.
"You haven't heard what I have," he said, "or you would soon have anopinion."
"Yes, sir," said Morris as impassively as before.
"I tell you--" and then Ralph broke off, and rode on silent and moody.Mr. Morris gradually let his horse fall back behind his master.
* * * * *
They began to come towards Rusper as the evening drew in, by a bridlepath that led from the west, and on arriving at the village found thatthey had overshot their mark, and ought to have turned sooner. Thenunnery, a man told them, was a mile away to the south-west. Ralph madea few enquiries, and learnt that it was a smallish house, and that itwas scarcely likely that room could be found for his party of four; sohe left Morris to make enquiries for lodgings in the village, andhimself rode on alone to the nunnery, past the church and thetimberhouses.
It was a bad road, and his tired horse had to pick his way very slowly,so that it was nearly dark before he came to his destination, and thepointed roofs rose before him against the faintly luminous western sky.There were lights in one or two windows as he came up that looked warmand homely in the chill darkness; and as he sat on his horse listeningto the jangle of the bell within, just a breath of doubtfulness touchedhis heart for a moment as he thought of the peaceful home-life that laypacked within those walls, and of the errand on which he had come.
But the memory of the tales he had heard, haunted him still; and hespoke in a harsh voice as the shutter slid back, and a littlecriss-crossed square of light appeared in the black doorway.
"I am one of the King's Visitors," he said. "Let my Lady Abbess know Iam here. I must speak with her."
There was a stifled sound behind the grating; and Ralph caught a glimpseof a pair of eyes looking at him. Then the square grew dark again. Itwas a minute or two before anything further happened, and Ralph as hesat cold and hungry on his horse, began to grow impatient. His hand wason the twisted iron handle to ring again fiercely, when there was a stepwithin, and a light once more shone out.
"Who is it?" said an old woman's voice, with a note of anxiety in it.
"I have sent word in," said Ralph peevishly, "that I am one of theKing's Visitors. I should be obliged if I might not be kept here allnight."
There was a moment's silence; the horse sighed sonorously.
"How am I to know, sir?" said the voice again.
"Because I tell you so," snapped Ralph. "And if more is wanted, my nameis Torridon. You have a sister of mine in there."
There was an exclamation from within; and the sound of whispering; andthen hasty footsteps went softly across the paved court inside.
The voice spoke again.
"I ask your pardon, sir; but have you any paper--or--"
Ralph snatched out a document of identification, and leaned forwardfrom his horse to pass it through the opening. He felt trembling fingerstake it from him; and a moment later heard returning footsteps.
There was a rustle of paper, and then a whisper within.
"Well, my dear?"
Something shifted in the bright square, and it grew gloomy as a facepressed up against the bars. Then again it shifted and the light shoneout, and a flutter of whispers followed.
"Really, madam--" began Ralph; but there was the jingle of keys, and thesound of panting, and almost immediately a bolt shot back, followed
bythe noise of a key turning. A chorus of whispers broke out and a scurryof footsteps, and then the door opened inwards and a little old womanstood there in a black habit, her face swathed in white above and below.The others had vanished.
"I am very sorry, Mr. Torridon, to have kept you at the door; but wehave to be very careful. Will you bring your horse in, sir?"
Ralph was a little abashed by the sudden development of the situation,and explained that he had only come to announce his arrival; he hadsupposed that there would not be room at the nunnery.
"But we have a little guest-house here," announced the old lady with adignified air, "and room for your horse."
Ralph hesitated; but he was tired and hungry.
"Come in, Mr. Torridon. You had better dismount and lead your horse in.Sister Anne will see to it."
"Well, if you are sure--" began Ralph again, slipping a foot out of thestirrup.
"I am sure," said the Abbess; and stood aside for him and his beast topass.
There was a little court, lighted by a single lamp burning within awindow, with the nunnery itself on one side, and a small cottage on theother. Beyond the latter rose the roofs of an outhouse.
As Ralph came in, the door from the nunnery opened again, and a laysister came out hastily; she moved straight across and took the horse bythe bridle.
"Give him a good meal, sister," said the Abbess; and went past Ralph tothe door of the guest-house.
"Come in, Mr. Torridon; there will be lights immediately."
* * * * *
In half an hour Ralph found himself at supper in the guest-parlour; abright fire crackled on the hearth, a couple of candles burned on thetable, and a pair of old darned green curtains hung across the lowwindow.
The Abbess came in when he had finished, dismissed the lay-sister whohad waited on him, and sat down herself.
"You shall see your sister to-morrow, Mr. Torridon," she said, "it is alittle late now. I have sent the boy up to the village for your servant;he can sleep in this room if you wish. I fear we have no room for more."
Ralph watched her as she talked. She was very old, with hanging cheeks,and solemn little short-sighted eyes, for she peered at him now andagain across the candles. Her upper lip was covered with a slight growthof dark hair. She seemed strangely harmless; and Ralph had another prickof compunction as he thought of the news he had to give her on themorrow. He wondered how much she knew.
"We are so glad it is you, Mr. Torridon, that have come to visit us. Wefeared it might be Dr. Layton; we have heard sad stories of him."
Ralph hardened his heart.
"He has only done his duty, Reverend Mother," he said.
"Oh! but you cannot have heard," exclaimed the old lady. "He has robbedseveral of our houses we hear--even the altar itself. And he has turnedaway some of our nuns."
Ralph was silent; he thought he would at least leave the old lady inpeace for this last night. She seemed to want no answer; but went onexpatiating on the horrors that were happening round them, the wickedaccusations brought against the Religious, and the Divine vengeance thatwould surely fall on those who were responsible.
Finally she turned and questioned him, with a mingling of deference anddignity.
"What do you wish from us, Mr. Torridon? You must tell me, that I maysee that everything is in order."
Ralph was secretly amused by her air of innocent assurance.
"That is my business, Reverend Mother. I must ask for all the books ofthe house, with the account of any sales you may have effected, properlyrecorded. I must have a list of the inmates of the house, with astatement of any corrodies attached; and the names and ages and dates ofprofession of all the Religious."
The Abbess blinked for a moment.
"Yes, Mr. Torridon. You will allow me of course to see all your papersto-morrow; it is necessary for me to be certified that all your part isin order."
Ralph smiled a little grimly.
"You shall see all that," he said. "And then there is more that I mustask; but that will do for a beginning. When I have shown you my papersyou will see what it is that I want."
There was a peal at the bell outside; the Abbess turned her head andwaited till there was a noise of bolts and unlocking.
"That will be your man, sir. Will you have him in now, Mr. Torridon?"
Ralph assented.
"And then he must look at the horses to see that all is as you wish."
Mr. Morris came in a moment later, and bowed with great deference to thelittle old lady, who enquired his name.
"When you have finished with your man, Mr. Torridon, perhaps you willallow him to ring for me at the door opposite. I will go with him to seethe horses."
Mr. Morris had brought with him the mass of his master's papers, andwhen he had set these out and prepared the bedroom that opened out ofthe guest-parlour, he asked leave to go across and fetch the Abbess.
Ralph busied himself for half-an-hour or so in running over the Articlesand Injunctions once more, and satisfying himself that he was perfect inhis business; and he was just beginning to wonder why his servant hadnot reappeared when the door opened once more, and Mr. Morris slippedin.
"My horse is a little lame, sir," he said. "I have been putting on apoultice."
Ralph glanced up.
"He will be fit to travel, I suppose?"
"In a day or two, Mr. Ralph."
"Well; that will do. We shall be here till Monday at least."
* * * * *
Ralph could not sleep very well that night. The thought of his businesstroubled him a little. It would have been easier if the Abbess had beeneither more submissive or more defiant; but her air of mingled courtesyand dignity affected him. Her innocence too had something touching init, and her apparent ignorance of what his visit meant. He had suppedexcellently at her expense, waited on by a cheerful sister, and wellserved from the kitchen and cellar; and the Reverend Mother herself hadcome in and talked sensibly and bravely. He pictured to himself whatlife must be like through the nunnery wall opposite--how brisk andpunctual it must be, and at the same time homely and caressing.
And it was his hand that was to pull down the first prop. There would nodoubt be three or four nuns below age who must be dismissed, andprobably there would be a few treasures to be carried off, aprocessional crucifix perhaps, such as he had seen in Dr. Layton'scollection, and a rich chalice or two, used on great days. His ownsister too must be one of those who must go. How would the little oldAbbess behave herself then? What would she say? Yet he comfortedhimself, as he lay there in the clean, low-ceilinged room, staring atthe tiny crockery stoup gleaming against the door-post, by recollectingthe principle on which he had come. Possibly a few innocents would haveto suffer, a few old hearts be broken; but it was for a man to take suchthings in his day's work.
And then as he remembered Dr. Layton's tales, his heart grew hot andhard again.