Chapter V: A Warning.
Sir Oliver and his wife listened with some anxiety to the boys'story of the rescue of the peddler. Bertram observed the cloud uponhis father's brow, and eagerly asked if he had done wrong.
"I say not so, my son," replied the knight. "I would ever have achild of mine merciful and just--the protector of the oppressed,and the champion of the defenceless; nevertheless--"
"And it was those bloodhounds of Mortimer's who were setting uponhim," broke in Julian vehemently. "What right had they to molesthim? Could we of Chad, upon our own soil, stand by and see it done?I trow, father, that thou wouldst have done the same hadst thoubeen there."
A smile flitted over the face of the knight. He loved to see thegenerous fire burning in his boys' eyes; but for all that his facewas something anxious as he made reply:
"Belike I should, my son, albeit perhaps in a something lessvehement fashion. My authority would have served to keep down riot,and the charge against the peddler could have been forthwithexamined, and if found false the man could then have been sent onhis way in safety. But it is dangerous work just now to appear toside with those against whom the foul charge of heresy is brought.Knowest thou--know any of ye--what gave rise to the suddensuspicion?"
Edred, who knew much more of the real nature of the peddler'soccupation that day, kept his lips close sealed. He would not forworlds have told what he had seen and heard. His brothers wereplainly ignorant of the peddler's exhortation, reading, andpreaching. It was not for him to add to the anxieties of hisparents.
Julian was the first to answer the question.
"It was but the idle spite of the people of Mortimer," he answered."They had baited the bull and the bear, and they had the mind tobait or burn a heretic whilst their blood was up, as a fit end totheir day's pleasuring. I saw them prowling round the tree wherethe fellow was talking to the women and showing his wares; andsuddenly they raised the shout. I called out to Bertram thatMortimer's people were bent on a mischief, and he sprang to thepeddler's side before any had touched him, and we disappointed thehell hounds of their prey. He had nothing in his pack but suchwares as all peddlers have; and the people vowed he had done naughtall the day but sell to all who came. It would have been sin andshame for us of Chad to have stood by to see him hounded perhaps todeath. We could not choose but balk those evil men of their will.None of our blood could have stood by to see such ill done!"
"I cannot blame ye, my sons," said the knight. "Ye have the bloodof your forefathers in your veins, and it goes against all of us atChad to see injustice and unrighteousness committed. I do but wishthe cry raised against yon man had been anything else than that ofheresy. The priests and magistrates are very busy now searching outall those suspected of that vile sin, and those who shelter themare accounted as guilty as those who are proved tainted. Our foe ofMortimer is very zealous in the good cause, and will not scruple toemploy against us every weapon in his power. It would be anexcellent thing in his eyes to show how mine own children had stoodup to defend a Lollard heretic. I would we knew something moreanent this man and his views.
"Warbel, didst thou know him? Is he anyone known in and aboutChad?"
"I never saw his face before, sir," answered Warbel. "I know not somuch as his name. I had thought of making some inquiries of thevillage folks. All I noted was that he seemed always to have plentyof persons around and about him, and his wares were nothing veryattractive. Still, it is often the tales peddlers tell and the waythey have with them that keeps a crowd always about them. Some ofthe folks of the place must know who and what he is."
"Yes, verily; and it would be well for thee to ride over tomorrowand make all needful inquiry. It would set my mind at rest to knowthat there was no cause of complaint against him. We cannot beblind to the fact that heretical doctrines are widely spread bythose purporting to be hawkers and peddlers. Yet there must be manyhonest men who would scorn to be so occupied, and who know not eventhe name of these pestilent heresies."
And with that charge the knight tried to dismiss the subject fromhis mind; whilst Edred went to bed feeling terribly uneasy, anddreamed all night of the secret chamber, and how the time came whenthey were all forced to take refuge in it from the hatred of theLord of Mortimer and his bloodthirsty followers.
But not even to his brothers did he tell all that he had heard andall that he knew. The words of the gospel in the familiar languageof his country haunted him persistently. He felt a strange wish tohear more, although he believed the wish to be sin, and stroveagainst it might and main. Some of the passages clung tenaciouslyto his memory, and he fell asleep repeating them. When he woke thewords were yet in his mind, and they seemed to get between him andthe words of his task that day when the boys went to their tutorfor daily instruction.
Brother Emmanuel had never found Edred so inattentive and absentbefore. He divined that the boy must have something on his mind,and let him alone. He was not surprised that he lingered when theothers had gone, and then in a low voice asked his preceptor if hewould meet him in the chantry, as he felt he could not be happytill he had made confession of a certain matter, done penance, andreceived absolution.
A request of that sort never met a denial from the monk. He sentEdred to the chantry to pray for an hour, and met him there at theend of that time to listen to all he had to say.
Edred's story was soon told--nothing held back, not even theinnermost thoughts of his heart--and the expression of the facebeneath the enshrouding cowl was something strange to see.
It was long before the monk spoke, and meantime Edred lay prostrateat his feet, thankful to transfer the burden weighing him down tothe keeping of another, but little guessing what the burden was tohim to whom he made this confession.
Well did Brother Emmanuel know and recognize the peril ofentertaining such thoughts, longings, and aspirations as were nowassailing the heart of this unconscious boy. That there was sin inall these feelings he did not doubt; that heavy penance must bedone for them he would not for a moment have wished to deny. Butyet when he came to place reason in the place of the formulas ofthe Church in which he had been reared, he knew not how to condemnthat longing after the Word of God which was generally the firststep towards the dreaded sin of heresy.
No one more sincerely abhorred the name and the sin of heresy. Whenmen denied the presence of the living God in the sacraments of theChurch, or attacked its time-honoured practices in which the heartof the young monk was bound up, then the whole soul of theenthusiast rose up in revolt, and he felt that such blasphemerswell deserved the fiery doom they brought upon themselves. But whentheir sin was possessing a copy of the living Word; when all thatcould be alleged against them was that they met together to read thatWord which was denied to them by their lawful pastors and teachers,and which they had no opportunity of hearing otherwise--then indeeddid it seem a hard thing that they should be so mercilessly condemnedand persecuted.
Yet he could not deny that this reading and expounding of theScriptures by the ignorant and unlearned led almost invariably tothose other sins of blasphemy and irreverence which curdled thevery blood in his veins. Again and again had his heart burnedwithin him to go forth amongst the people himself; to take uponhimself and put in practice the office of evangelist, which he knewto be a God-appointed ministry, and yet which was so seldomworthily fulfilled, and himself to proclaim aloud the gospel, thatall might have news of the Son of God, yet might be taught toreverence the holy sacraments more rather than less for the sake ofHim who established them upon earth, and to respect the priesthood,even though it might in its members show itself unworthy, becauseit was a thing given by Christ for the edification of the body, andbecause He Himself, the High Priest passed into the heavens, mustneeds have His subordinate priests working with Him and by Him onearth.
Again and again had longings such as these filled his soul, and hehad implored leave to go forth preaching and teaching. But he hadnever won permission to do this. The request had been treated withcontempt, and h
e himself had been suspected of ambition and otherunworthy motives. He had submitted to the will of his superiors, ashis vow of obedience obliged him to do; but none the less did hisheart burn within him as he saw more and more plainly how men werethirsting for living waters, and realized with ever-increasingintensity of pain and certainty that if the Church herself wouldnot give her children to drink out of pure fountains, they wouldnot be hindered from drinking of poisoned springs, and thus drawdown upon themselves all manner of evils and diseases.
He had never doubted for a moment the pureness of the source fromwhich he himself drank. He was not blind to the imperfections manyand great of individuals in high places, and the corruptions whichhad crept within the pale of the Church, but these appeared to himincidental and capable of amendment. He never guessed at any deeperpoison at work far below, tainting the very waters at their source.He was in all essential points an orthodox son of Rome; but he hadimbibed much of the spirit of the Oxford Reformers, of whom Coletwas at this time the foremost, and his more enlightened outlookseemed to the blind and bigoted of his own order to savoursomething dangerously of heresy.
He did not know himself seriously suspected. His conscience was tooclear, his devotion to the Church too pure, to permit of his easilyfearing unworthy suspicions. He knew himself no favourite with thestately but self-indulgent Prior of Chadwater; knew that BrotherFabian, whom he had once sternly rebuked for an act of open sin,was his bitter enemy. But he had not greatly heeded this, strong inhis own innocence, and he had been far happier at Chad in the moretruly pure atmosphere of that secular house than in the so-calledsanctity of the cloister.
And now he found his own thoughts, aspirations, and yearningsrepeated in the mind of his favourite pupil, and he was confrontedby a problem more difficult to solve than any that had met himbefore. In his own case he felt he had a compass to steer by--therestraint and guidance of his vows and his habit to help him. Buthow would it be with this ardent and imaginative boy? His mind wasstruggling to free itself from artificial trammels. To what goalmight not that wish lead?
Earnestly he looked upon the bowed form at his feet, and in hiseyes there was a great compassion. But his lips pronounced, withsternness and decision, the words of the heavy penance imposed, andat the end of the prescribed formulas he raised the boy and lookedsearchingly into his face.
"My son," he said, very gently yet very impressively, "rememberthat the first sin that entered into the world was the sin ofdisobedience. Remember that Satan's most powerful weapon is the onewhich he employed towards our first mother when he bid her eat ofthe tree of knowledge, because that knowledge is good--a God-giventhing--when he persuaded her that God was wrong in keeping anythinghidden from her that in itself was good. The same sin by whichdeath entered the world has abounded there ever since. God and theSon of God and the Church have always taught that there be certainthings hidden, only to be revealed to man by God or through theordinances of the Church, not to be sought after through curiosityby unlettered men themselves. Yet for as much as Satan is never atrest, and can transform himself on occasion into an angel of light,he is ever present with men urging them on to pry into these hiddenmysteries and to make light of the ordinances of God. He puts intotheir mouth words similar to those by which he tempted the woman toher fall, and men listen greedily as our first mother did, and areled into destruction when they think they are walking forth intothe light of day.
"My son, beware of this sin; beware of this temptation. Rememberthe many solemn warnings against disobedience contained in the Wordof God; remember how obedience is insisted on throughout that holyvolume. Thou mayest not always see the reason--thou mayest notalways recognize the authority; but remember that there is ablessing upon those who obey, and be not in haste to break the bondunder which thou wast born, remembering who has placed thee wherethou art, and who has bidden us give all dutiful obedience to thepowers that be."
Edred made a deep reverence, crossed himself silently in token ofsubmission, and prostrated himself upon the step of the altar, tolie there fasting till set of sun as one part of his penance. Witha murmured prayer and blessing the monk left him, hoping that hehad spoken a word of seasonable warning to one whose heart wasenkindled with ardent devotion, whilst his active mind and vividimagination were in danger of leading him into perilous paths.
No questions were asked of Edred respecting this penance, whichtook him away from his ordinary occupations during the chief partof the two following days. He and Brother Emmanuel alone knew thereason for it, and it was against the traditions of the house thatany open notice should be taken by others.
The episode of the peddler and the outbreak with the followers ofMortimer had begun to fade somewhat from the minds of those atChad. No complaint had reached that house from Mortimer's Keep, ashad been expected, and it was hoped that the thing would never beheard of again.
Yet it was with something of a sinking heart that Sir Oliver heardthe third day that the Prior of Chadwater desired speech of him;and as he mounted his horse and summoned his servants about him, hewondered, not without considerable uneasiness, what this summonsmight mean.
He had always been on good terms with the handsome prior of theBenedictine monastery. The choicest of the game, the fattest of thebucks slain in the forest, the chiefest specimens of his wife'sculinary triumphs, always found their way to the prior's table, andan excellent understanding had always been maintained between thetwo houses. But the knight had observed of late that the prior hadbecome more slack in those visits of friendly courtesy which oncehad been common enough between them; and when he had presentedhimself at the monastery, he had not been quite certain that hiswelcome was as cordial as heretofore. It was not until latterlythat this had caused him any uneasiness--it had taken him somewhile to feel sure that it was anything but his own fantasy; but hehad just begun to feel that something was amiss, and now thissummons seemed to him to have an evil import.
However, there was nothing for it but to go; and a clear consciencekeeps a man bold even in face of greater peril than was likely toassail him now. He thought it probable that some rumour of the stiron the fair day had reached the ecclesiastic, and that he wanted anaccount of it in detail. Sir Oliver was quite prepared to give himthat, and entered the presence of the prior with a bold front andan air of cordial courtesy such as he was wont to wear in thepresence of this dignitary.
There was nothing alarming in the prior's manner. He received hisguest graciously, bid him be seated in the best chair reserved forthe use of guests, and asked him of the welfare of his householdwith benevolence and friendly interest. But after all that had beensaid, his face took another look, and he brought up the subject ofthe travelling peddler or preacher, and asked the knight what hissons meant by standing champions to a notable and perniciousLollard heretic.
The knight started at the words, and disclaimed any such knowledgeboth on behalf of himself and his sons. He told the tale as Bertramand Julian had told it him; and there was such sincerity in hismanner, and his character both for orthodoxy and for scrupuloustruthfulness in word and deed was so widely known and respected,that the prior's brow unbent somewhat, and he looked less stern andsevere.
"I believe your story, Sir Knight," he said. "I believe that yoursons sinned in ignorance. But none the less is it true that theyhave stood champions for a pestilent heretic; and that is anoffence not likely to escape the vengeful notice of the Lord ofMortimer, who is always on the lookout for a cause of complaintagainst person or persons at Chad."
"That is very true," replied Sir Oliver, thoughtfully and gravely."I was greatly vexed when I heard of the affair, and chided my boysfor their hot-headed rashness. Howbeit there be many there totestify that the man was at that time but hawking his wares, and mysons could not know that he was a secret heretic and Lollard."
"Nay, but when that cry was raised they should not have stood athis side as his champions without more knowledge of the truth. Theman is now known to have been preaching well nigh the whole
daylong, reading portions of those accursed translations of Wycliffe'swhich are damnation to all who possess them or listen to them, andexpounding thereupon in the fashion that sends persons raving madwith the poison of heresy. The man is in hiding somewhere in thewoods about; but he will soon be caught and handed over to thesecular power to be doomed to death. And I like not the story ofyour sons' part in all this; it hath an ugly look."
Sir Oliver hid his anxiety beneath a cloak of dignified submission.He well knew the best way of putting things straight with theprior.
"I greatly grieve over the hotheadedness of the lads, but I willgladly make such amends as lies in my power. They sinned inignorance, as you, reverend father, believe, and for such sins theindulgence of the Church may be won by the payment of such sum asshall be thought right. If you will tell me what I ought to give topurchase this indulgence, I will do my utmost to meet the justclaim; and Holy Church shall be richer and not poorer for thetrespass unwittingly made by the sons of Chad."
The prior looked pleased at this ready suggestion, and named a sumwhich, though sufficiently heavy, was within Sir Oliver's means,and which he promised should be immediately paid. He knew that theprior, though a man fond of money, and somewhat greedy in gainingpossession of all he could, was not treacherous or unjust; and thatif he had accepted this sum as the price of the pardon of the boys'escapade, he would stand their friend, and not allow them to bepersecuted by Mortimer for the same offence, should the matter everbe brought up against them again.
Indeed, now that the arrangement had been so amicably entered into,Sir Oliver was rather glad that the subject had been broached. Theprior was the most powerful man in the county, and to have him fora friend was everything. It was his game to hold the balance verynicely betwixt the owners of Mortimer and Chad, keeping his neutralposition, and not permitting either party to overstep the limitsbeyond a certain extent. After what had just passed, he feltassured that the prior would not permit his boys to be harried oraccused of countenancing heresy by their enemy, and he was wellpleased at the interview and its result.
He rose now as if to go, but the prior motioned him to resume hisseat.
"There is yet another matter upon which I would speak to you," hesaid. "You have beneath your roof one of our younger brethren,Brother Emmanuel. How have you found him comport himself since hehas been free from the restraints of the cloister?"
The knight looked surprised at the question.
"He is in all ways a very godly and saintly youth," he replied. "Heinstructs my sons after an excellent fashion, keeps the hours ofthe Church with a scrupulous precision I have never seen equalled,and instructs all who come to him for advice or assistance in amanner that makes him beloved of all. Whenever I have talked withhim or gone to him for spiritual counsel, I have been greatlystruck by his spiritual insight, his purity of thought, hisearnestness of mind, and his knowledge of the Holy Scriptures."
The prior shifted a little in his seat, and coughed behind his handsomewhat dubiously.
"He was ever prone to observe the hours well. He lived blamelesslyhere in all outward observances; but as for his knowledge of theHoly Scriptures, it may be that it goes something too far. It iswhispered abroad that some of his words savour strongly of thosevery Lollard heresies which are about to be put down with fire andsword. Hast thou heard and seen naught of that?"
A thrill of indignation ran through Sir Oliver's frame. It was onlyby an effort that he restrained a hasty exclamation. He well knewthat the wave of enlightened feeling rising within the Churchherself had found no echo in the remoter parts of the kingdom,where bigotry and darkness and intolerance still reigned supreme.He was perfectly aware that the most enlightened sons of the Churchwho had dared to bid the people study the Word of God, andespecially to study it as a whole, would have been denounced asheretics had they lifted up their voices in many parts of thekingdom. This very enlightened understanding, which was so marked afeature in Brother Emmanuel, had been one of the strongest bondsbetween him and his patron, and it seemed little short of monstrousto the knight to hear such an accusation brought against one whohad lived a godly and blameless life, had observed far morerigorously all the laws of the Church than the prior or thefraternity thought of doing, and was a far truer and better sonthan they ever attempted to be.
But he restrained his indignation, and only answered very calmly:
"I have seen naught of it; indeed, I have seen so much to thecontrary, that methinks it is but an idle tale, not worth yourreverence's attention. In every matter, word or deed, BrotherEmmanuel is faithful to his vows and to his calling. He is an ableinstructor of youth; and were your reverence to examine him asstrictly as possible, I do not believe that any cause of offence,however trivial, could be found against him."
"I am well pleased to hear such good testimony," returned theprior, who was regarding his visitor with a scrutiny not altogetheragreeable to the knight. "At the same time, it is not always wellfor a monk to remain too long away from the cloister, and a changeof instructor is ofttimes better for the young. I have beenthinking that it might be well to recall Brother Emmanuel, and sendin his place Brother Fabian, in whom I repose the greatestconfidence. How would such a change meet your good pleasure? IfBrother Emmanuel is in need of penance, it can better be imposedhere than elsewhere--and by all I hear it seems to me that hestands something in need of the discipline of the monastery; andBrother Fabian would make an excellent substitute as an instructorfor the lads."
Whilst the prior was speaking, thought had been rapid with SirOliver, and something in the prior's look--a subtlety and almostcruelty about the lines of the mouth--warned him that there was inthis proposition that which boded evil to someone.
It flashed across him that Brother Emmanuel was perhaps to be madea victim of ecclesiastical tyranny and cruelty. He knew that theascetic young monk had been no favourite with his brethren atChadwater; and if they could bring against him some charge ofheresy, however trifling, it was like enough that he might besilently done to death, as others of his calling had been for lessfearful offences. Monastic buildings held their dark secrets, asthe world was just beginning to know; and only a short while backhe had heard a whisper that it was not wise for a monk to be toostrict in his hours and in his living. Then again, Brother Fabianwas a coarse, illiterate man, utterly unfit to be the guide andinstructor of youth. Sir Oliver had not dined at the prior's tableand spent hours in his company for nothing, and he knew many of themonks tolerably well. Brother Fabian was the one he liked theleast; indeed he had a strong dislike and distrust of the man, andwas well aware that the ecclesiastical habit was the only thingabout him that savoured of sanctity or the monastic life. He wouldnot have allowed the contaminating presence of such a man near hissons, even had he been indued with the needful learning for thetask of instructor. As it was, he knew that the monk could barelyspell through his breviary, and it was plain that the prior musthave another reason for wishing to induct him into the house.
Nor was the reason difficult to divine. It was not as an instructorbut as a spy that Brother Fabian was to come. The whispersabroad--doubtless spread industriously by his vengeful foe--had notbeen without effect, and men had begun to suspect that hishousehold was tainted with heresy. Brother Emmanuel was suspected,his sons were probably suspected as being his pupils, and possiblysome other members of his household too. Brother Fabian was to besent to act as spy, and if bribed (as was most probable) by theLord of Mortimer, would doubtless find some cause of offence whichcould be twisted into an accusation of heresy against someonethere.
It was difficult for Sir Oliver to see his way all in a moment. Tooppose this scheme or to submit to it appeared alike dangerous. Hisindependence and honest English pride revolted against any attemptto coerce him in his domestic arrangements, or to submit tointerference there, even from the ministers of the Church.
But it was needful to walk warily, and the prior was watching himas a cat does a mouse.
"Will you give me a few days
to consider this matter?" he asked, inas easy a tone as he could. "Your reverence knows that changes arenot of themselves welcome to me; and my sons have made suchprogress with Brother Emmanuel that I am something loath to partwith him. Also, they are at this moment going through a course ofstudy which none other could conclude with the same advantage.Brother Fabian is doubtless an excellent brother of his order, buthe has scarce the same learning as Brother Emmanuel. Nevertheless,I will well consider the change proposed, and give it all dutifulheed. But I should like to speak with my wife anent the matter, andlearn her will. It is not a matter of pressing haste, by what Ihave gathered from your words?"
"No, not one of pressing haste. Yet I would not long delay,"answered the prior. "I may not speak too openly, but there bereasons why I would have Brother Emmanuel beneath this roof oncemore. I will leave thee one week to consider and to get the courseof study completed. At the week's end, methinks, I shall beconstrained to bid Brother Emmanuel return home. But if all be wellafter a short time has sped by, he may return again to thee."
Sir Oliver was looking full at the handsome but crafty face of theprior, and as the last words passed his lips he saw a flicker inthe eyes which made him say within his heart:
"If Brother Emmanuel once re-enters these walls, he will neversally forth again. Mischief is meant him; of that I am convinced.What must I do? Must I give him up to his death? And how can I savehim, even if I would?"
These thoughts were surging in his heart as he rode home. The perilhe had feared against those of his own name and race had beenaverted. The payment of what was practically a heavy fine wouldsecure to the boys immunity from the results of their rashness; butwith the monk it was far different. What had aroused the animosityof the fraternity, and why mischief was planned against him, SirOliver could not divine; but that something had occurred to arouseit he could not doubt.
No sooner had he reached home than he sought Brother Emmanuel inhis own bare room, and laid before him the account of what hadpassed.
A strange look crossed the young monk's face.
"Then it is known!" he said simply.
"What is known?"
"That I am the author of a certain pamphlet, written some whileago, and taken to Germany to be printed, giving an account of someof the corruptions and abuses that have stolen into the Church, andin especial into the monasteries and religious houses of this land.I could not choose but write it. If the Church is to be saved, itcan only be by her repudiation of such corruptions, and by aprocess of self cleansing that none can do for her. I always knewthat if suspected my life would pay the forfeit; but I know not howthe authorship has been discovered. Yet the great ones of the landhave ways we know not of; and if the truth is not known, it issuspected. I am to go back to the priory; but once there, I shallnever go forth again. Yet what matter? I always knew if the thingwere known my life would .pay the forfeit. I wrote as the Spiritbid me; I know that God was with me then. I am ready to lay down mylife in a good cause; I am not afraid what man can do unto me."
Sir Oliver looked into that young face, which the martyr spiritilluminated and glorified, and an answering spark kindled in hisown eyes.
"If that is thine offence, and not the alleged one of heresy, Iwill stand thy friend," he said; "and thou shalt not go forth fromChad to thy death so long as I have a roof to shelter thee. I willstand thy friend and protector so long as I have a house to callmine own."