CHAPTER XLIV.
ON THE HUMBER.
Master Talbot had done considerately in arranging that Cicely should atleast begin her journey on a pillion behind himself, for her anguish ofsuppressed weeping unfitted her to guide a horse, and would haveattracted the attention of any serving-man behind whom he could haveplaced her, whereas she could lay her head against his shoulder, andfeel a kind of dreary repose there.
He would have gone by the more direct way to Hull, through Lincoln, butthat he feared that February Filldyke would have rendered the fensimpassable, so he directed his course more to the north-west. Cicelywas silent, crushed, but more capable of riding than of anything else;in fact, the air and motion seemed to give her a certain relief.
He meant to halt for the night at a large inn at Nottingham. There wasmuch stir in the court, and it seemed to be full of the train of somegreat noble. Richard knew not whether to be glad or sorry when heperceived the Shrewsbury colours and the silver mastiff badge, and wasgreeted by a cry of "Master Richard of Bridgefield!" Two or threeretainers of higher degree came round him as he rode into the yard,and, while demanding his news, communicated their own, that my Lord wason his way to Fotheringhay to preside at the execution of the Queen ofScots.
He could feel Cicely's shudder as he lifted her off her horse, and hereplied repressively, "I am bringing my daughter from thence."
"Come in and see my Lord," said the gentleman. "He is a woeful man atthe work that is put on him."
Lord Shrewsbury did indeed look sad, almost broken, as he held out hishand to Richard, and said, "This is a piteous errand, cousin, on whichI am bound. And thou, my young kinswoman, thou didst not succeed withher Majesty!"
"She is sick with grief and weariness," said Richard. "I would faintake her to her chamber."
The evident intimacy of the new-comers with so great a personage as myLord procured for them better accommodation than they might otherwisehave had, and Richard obtained for Cicely a tiny closet within the roomwhere he was himself to sleep. He even contrived that she should beserved alone, partly by himself, partly by the hostess, a kind motherlywoman, to whom he committed her, while he supped with the Earl, and wasafterwards called into his sleeping chamber to tell him of hisendeavours at treating with Lord and Lady Talbot, and also to hear hislamentations over the business he had been sent upon. He had actuallyoffered to make over his office as Earl Marshal to Burghley for thenonce, but as he said, "that of all the nobles in England, such workshould fall to the lot of him, who had been for fourteen years the poorlady's host, and knew her admirable patience and sweet conditions, wastruly hard."
Moreover, he was joined in the commission with the Earl of Kent, a sourPuritan, who would rejoice in making her drink to the dregs of the cupof bitterness! He was sick at heart with the thought. Richardrepresented that he would, at least, be able to give what comfort couldbe derived from mildness and compassion.
"Not I, not I!" said the poor man, always weak. "Not with those harshyoke-fellows Kent and Paulett to drive me on, and that viper Beale toreport to the Privy Council any strain of mercy as mere treason. Whatcan I do?"
"You would do much, my Lord, if you would move them to restore--forthese last hours--to her those faithful servants, Melville and DePreaux, whom Paulett hath seen fit to seclude from her. It is rankcruelty to let her die without the sacraments of her Church when herconscience will not let her accept ours."
"It is true, Richard, over true. I will do what I can, but I doubt mewhether I shall prevail, where Paulett looks on a Mass as mereidolatry, and will not brook that it should be offered in his house.But come you back with me, kinsman. We will send old Master Purvis totake your daughter safely home."
Richard of course refused, and at the same time, thinking anexplanation necessary and due to the Earl, disclosed to him that Cicelywas no child of his, but a near kinswoman of the Scottish Queen, whomit was desirable to place out of Queen Elizabeth's reach for thepresent, adding that there had been love passages between her and hisson Humfrey, who intended to wed her and see some foreign service.Lord Shrewsbury showed at first some offence at having been kept inignorance all these years of such a fact, and wondered what hisCountess would say, marvelled too that his cousin should consent to hisson's throwing himself away on a mere stranger, of perilous connection,and going off to foreign wars; but the good nobleman was a placableman, and always considerably influenced by the person who addressedhim, and he ended by placing the Mastiff at Richard's disposal to takethe young people to Scotland or Holland, or wherever they might wish togo.
This decided Mr. Talbot on making at once for the seaport; andaccordingly he left behind him the horse, which was to serve as a tokento his son that such was his course. Cicely had been worn out with herday's journey, and slept late and sound, so that she was not ready toleave her chamber till the Earl and his retinue were gone, and thus shewas spared actual contact with him who was to doom her mother, and seethat doom carried out. She was recruited by rest, and more ready totalk than on the previous day, but she was greatly disappointed to findthat she might not be taken to Bridgefield.
"If I could only be with Mother Susan for one hour," she sighed.
"Would that thou couldst, my poor maid," said Richard. "The motherhath the trick of comfort."
"'Twas not comfort I thought of. None can give me that," said the poorgirl; "but she would teach me how to be a good wife to Humfrey."
These words were a satisfaction to Richard, who had begun to feelsomewhat jealous for his son's sake, and to doubt whether the girl'saffection rose to the point of requiting the great sacrifice made forhis sake, though truly in those days parents were not wont to besolicitous as to the mutual attachment between a betrothed pair.However, Cicely's absolute resignation of herself and her fate intoHumfrey's hands, without even a question, and with entire confidenceand peace, was evidence enough that her heart was entirely his; nay,had been his throughout all the little flights of ambition now soentirely passed away, without apparently a thought on her part.
It was on the Friday forenoon, a day very unlike their last entranceinto Hull, that they again entered the old town, in the brightness of acrisp frost; but poor Cicely could not but contrast her hopeful mood ofNovember with her present overwhelming sorrow, where, however, therewas one drop of sweetness. Her foster-father took her again to goodMr. Heatherthwayte's, according to the previous invitation, and wasrejoiced to see that the joyous welcome of Oil-of-Gladness awoke asmile; and the little girl, being well trained in soberness anddiscretion, did not obtrude upon her grief.
Stern Puritan as he was, the minister himself contained hissatisfaction that the Papist woman was to die and never reign overEngland until he was out of hearing of the pale maiden who had--strangeas it seemed to him--loved her enough to be almost broken-hearted ather death.
Richard saw Goatley and set him to prepare the Mastiff for an immediatevoyage. Her crew, somewhat like those of a few modern yachts, werepermanently attached to her, and lived in the neighbourhood of thewharf, so that, under the personal superintendence of one who was asmuch loved and looked up to as Captain Talbot, all was soon in a stateof forwardness, and Gillingham made himself very useful. When darknessput a stop to the work and supper was being made ready, Richard foundtime to explain matters to Mr. Heatherthwayte, for his honourable mindwould not permit him to ask his host unawares to perform an office thatmight possibly be construed as treasonable. In spite of thepreparation which he had already received through Colet'scommunications, the minister's wonder was extreme. "Daughter to theQueen of Scots, say you, sir! Yonder modest, shamefast maiden, ofsuch seemly carriage and gentle speech?"
Richard smiled and said--"My good friend, had you seen that poorlady--to whom God be merciful--as I have done, you would know that whatis sweetest in our Cicely's outward woman is derived from her; for theinner graces, I cannot but trace them to mine own good wife."
Mr. Heatherthwayte seemed at first hardly to hear him, so over
poweredwas he with the notion that the daughter of her, whom he was in thehabit of classing with Athaliah and Herodias, was in his house, restingon the innocent pillow of Oil-of-Gladness. He made his guest recountto him the steps by which the discovery had been made, and at lastseemed to embrace the idea. Then he asked whether Master Talbot wereabout to carry the young lady to the protection of her brother inScotland; and when the answer was that it might be poor protection evenif conferred, and that by all accounts the Court of Scotland was by nomeans a place in which to leave a lonely damsel with no faithfulguardian, the minister asked--
"How then will you bestow the maiden?"
"In that, sir, I came to ask you to aid me. My son Humfrey isfollowing on our steps, leaving Fotheringhay so soon as his chargethere is ended; and I ask of you to wed him to the maid, whom we willthen take to Holland, when he will take service with the States."
The amazement of the clergyman was redoubled, and he began at first toplead with Richard that a perilous overleaping ambition was leading himthus to mate his son with an evil, though a royal, race.
At this Richard smiled and shook his head, pointing out that the verylast thing any of them desired was that Cicely's birth should be known;and that even if it were, her mother's marriage was very questionable.It was no ambition, he said, that actuated his son, "But you sawyourself how, nineteen years ago, the little lad welcomed her as hislittle sister come back to him. That love hath grown up with him.When, at fifteen years old, he learnt that she was a nameless stranger,his first cry was that he would wed her and give her his name. Neverhath his love faltered; and even when this misfortune of her rank wasknown, and he lost all hope of gaining her, while her mother bade herrenounce him, his purpose was even still to watch over and guard her;and at the end, beyond all our expectations, they have had her mother'sdying blessing and entreaty that he would take her."
"Sir, do you give me your word for that?"
"Yea, Master Heatherthwayte, as I am a true man. Mind you, worldlymatters look as different to a poor woman who knoweth the headsman isin the house, as to one who hath her head on her dying pillow. ThisQueen had devised plans for sending our poor Cis abroad to her Frenchand Lorraine kindred, with some of the French ladies of her train."
"Heaven forbid!" broke out Heatherthwayte, in horror. "The rankest ofPapists--"
"Even so, and with recommendations to give her in marriage to someadventurous prince whom the Spaniards might abet in working woe to usin her name. But when she saw how staunch the child is in believing asmine own good dame taught her, she saw, no doubt, that this would bemere giving her over to be persecuted and mewed in a convent."
"Then the woman hath some bowels of mercy, though a Papist."
"She even saith that she doubteth not that such as live honestly andfaithfully by the light that is in them shall be saved. So when shesaw she prevailed nothing with the maid, she left off her endeavours.Moreover, my son not only saved her life, but won her regard by hisfaith and honour; and she called him to her, and even besought him tobe her daughter's husband. I came to you, reverend sir, as one who hasknown from the first that the young folk are no kin to one another; andas I think the peril to you is small, I deemed that you would do themthis office. Otherwise, I must take her to Holland and see them weddedby a stranger there."
Mr. Heatherthwayte was somewhat touched, but he sat and considered,perceiving that to marry the young lady to a loyal Englishman was thesafest way of hindering her from falling into the clutches of a Popishprince; but he still demurred, and asked how Mr. Talbot could talk ofthe mere folly of love, and for its sake let his eldest son and heirbecome a mere exile and fugitive, cut off, it might be, from home.
"For that matter, sir," said Richard, "my son is not one to loiterabout, as the lubberly heir, cumbering the land at home. He would, solong as I am spared in health and strength, be doing service by land orsea, and I trust that by the time he is needed at home, all this may beso forgotten that Cis may return safely. The maid hath been our childtoo long for us to risk her alone. And for such love being weak andfoolish, surely, sir, it was the voice of One greater than you or Ithat bade a man leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife."
Mr. Heatherthwayte still murmured something about "youth" and "lightlyundertaken," and Master Talbot observed, with a smile, that when he hadseen Humfrey he might judge as to the lightness of purpose.
Richard meanwhile was watching somewhat anxiously for the arrival ofhis son, who, he had reckoned, would make so much more speed than waspossible for Cis, that he might have almost overtaken them, if thefatal business had not been delayed longer than he had seen reason toanticipate. However, these last words had not long been out of hismouth when a man's footsteps, eager, yet with a tired sound and withthe clank of spurs, came along the paved way outside, and there was aknock at the door. Some one else had been watching; for, as the streetdoor was opened, Cicely sprang forward as Humfrey held out his arms;then, as she rested against his breast, he said, so that she alonecould hear, "Her last words to me were, 'Give her my love and blessing,and tell her my joy is come--such joy as I never knew before.'"
Then they knew the deed was done, and Richard said, "God have mercy onher soul!" Nor did Mr. Heatherthwayte rebuke him. Indeed there was notime, for Humfrey exclaimed, "She is swooning." He gathered her in hisarms, and carried her where they lighted him, laying her on Oil'slittle bed, but she was not entirely unconscious, and rallied hersenses so as to give him a reassuring look, not quite a smile, and yetwondrously sweet, even in the eyes of others. Then, as the lampflashed on his figure, she sprang to her feet, all else forgotten inthe exclamation.
"O Humfrey, thou art hurt! What is it? Sit thee down."
They then saw that his face was, indeed, very pale and jaded, and thathis dress was muddied from head to foot, and in some places there weremarks of blood; but as she almost pushed him down on the chest besidethe bed, he said, in a voice hoarse and sunk, betraying weariness--
"Naught, naught, Cis; only my beast fell with me going down a hill, andlamed himself, so that I had to lead him the last four or five miles.Moreover, this cut on my hand must needs break forth bleeding more thanI knew in the dark, or I had not frighted thee by coming in such sorryplight," and he in his turn gazed reassuringly into her eyes as shestood over him, anxiously examining, as if she scarce durst trust him,that if stiff and bruised at all, it mattered not. Then she begged acup of wine for him, and sent Oil for water and linen, and Humfrey hadto abandon his hand to her, to be cleansed and bound up, neither ofthem uttering a word more than needful, as she knelt by the chestperforming this work with skilful hands, though there was now and thena tremor over her whole frame.
"Now, dear maid," said Richard, "thou must let him come with us and donsome dry garments: then shalt thou see him again."
"Rest and food--he needs them," said Cis, in a voice weak andtremulous, though the self-restraint of her princely nature strove tocontrol it. "Take him, father; methinks I cannot hear more to-night.He will tell me all when we are away together. I would be alone, andin the dark; I know he is come, and you are caring for him. That isenough, and I can still thank God."
Her face quivered, and she turned away; nor did Humfrey dare to shakeher further by another demonstration, but stumbled after his father tothe minister's chamber, where some incongruous clerical attire had beenprovided for him, since he disdained the offer of supping in bed.
Mr. Heatherthwayte was much struck with the undemonstrativeness oftheir meeting, for there was high esteem for austerity in the Puritanworld, in contrast to the utter want of self-restraint shown by themore secular characters.
When Humfrey presently made his appearance with his father's cloakwrapped over the minister's clean shirt and nether garments, Richardsaid, "Son Humfrey, this good gentleman who baptized our Cis would fainbe certain that there is no lightness of purpose in this thy design."
"Nay, nay, Mr. Talbot," broke in the minister, "I spake ere I had seent
his gentleman. From what I have now beheld, I have no doubts that beshe who she may, it is a marriage made and blessed in heaven."
"I thank you, sir," said Humfrey, gravely; "it is my one hopefulfilled."
They spoke no more till he had eaten, for he was much spent, havingnever rested more than a couple of hours, and not slept at all sinceleaving Fotheringhay. He had understood by the colour of the horseleft at Nottingham which road to take, and at the hostel at Hull hadencountered Gillingham, who directed him on to Mr. Heatherthwayte's.
What he brought himself to tell of the last scene at Fotheringhay hasbeen mostly recorded by history, and need not here be dwelt upon. WhenBourgoin and Melville fell back, unable to support their mistress alongthe hall to the scaffold, the Queen had said to him, "Thou wilt do methis last service," and had leant on his arm along the crowded hall,and had taken that moment to speak those last words for Cicely. Shehad blessed James openly, and declared her trust that he would findsalvation if he lived well and sincerely in the faith he had chosen.With him she had secretly blessed her other child.
Humfrey was much shaken and could hardly command his voice to answerthe questions of Master Heatherthwayte, but he so replied to them that,one by one, the phrases and turns were relinquished which the worthyman had prepared for a Sunday's sermon on "Go see now this accursedwoman and bury her, for she is a king's daughter," and he even began toconsider of choosing for his text something that would bid hiscongregation not to judge after the sight of their eyes, nor condemnafter the hearing of their ears.
When Humfrey had eaten and drunk, and the ruddy hue was returning tohis cheek, Mr. Heatherthwayte discovered that he must speak with hischurchwarden that night. Probably the pleasure of communicating thetidings that the deed was accomplished added force to the considerationthat the father and son would rather be alone together, for he lightedhis lantern with alacrity, and carried off Dust-and-Ashes with him.
Then Humfrey had more to tell which brooked no delay. On the day afterthe departure of his father and Cicely, Will Cavendish had arrived, andHumfrey had been desired to demand from the prisoner an immediateaudience for that gentleman. Mary had said, "This is anent the child.Call him in, Humfrey," and as Cavendish had passed the guard he hadstruck his old comrade on the shoulder and observed, "What gulls wehave at Hallamshire."
He had come out from his conference fuming, and desiring to hear fromHumfrey whether he were aware of the imposture that had been put on theQueen and upon them all, and to which yonder stubborn woman still choseto cleave--little Cis Talbot supposing herself a queen's daughter, andthey all, even grave Master Richard, being duped. It was too much forWill! A gentleman, so nearly connected with the Privy Council, was notto be deceived like these simple soldiers and sailors, though it suitedQueen Mary's purposes to declare the maid to be in sooth her daughter,and to refuse to disown her. He supposed it was to embroil England forthe future that she left such a seed of mischief.
And old Paulett had been fool enough to let the girl leave the Castle,whereas Cavendish's orders had been to be as secret as possible lestthe mischievous suspicion of the existence of such a person shouldspread, but to arrest her and bring her to London as soon as theexecution should be over; when, as he said, no harm would happen to herprovided she would give up the pretensions with which she had beendeceived.
"It would have been safer for you both," said poor Queen Mary toHumfrey afterwards, "if I had denied her, but I could not disown mypoor child, or prevent her from yet claiming royal rights. Moreover, Ihave learnt enough of you Talbots to know that you would not owe yoursafety to falsehood from a dying woman."
But Will's conceit might be quite as effectual. He was under orders tocommunicate the matter to no one not already aware of it, and as aboveall things he desired to see the execution as the most memorablespectacle he was likely to behold in his life, and he believed Cicelyto be safe at Bridgefield, he thought it unnecessary to take anyfarther steps until that should be over. Humfrey had listened to allwith what countenance he might, and gave as little sign as possible.
But when the tragedy had been consummated, and he had seen the fairhead fall, and himself withdrawn poor little Bijou from beneath hisdead mistress's garment, handing him to Jean Kennedy, he had--withblood still curdling with horror--gone down to the stables, taken hishorse, and ridden away.
There would no doubt be pursuit so soon as Richard and Cicely werefound not to be at Bridgefield; but there was a space in which to act,and Mr. Talbot at once said, "The Mastiff is well-nigh ready to sail.Ye must be wedded to-morrow morn, and go on board without delay."
They judged it better not to speak of this to the poor bride in herheavy grief; and Humfrey, having heard from their little hostess thatMistress Cicely lay quite still, and sent him her loving greeting,consented to avail himself of the hospitable minister's own bed,hoping, as he confided to his father, that very weariness would hinderhim from seeing the block, the axe, and the convulsed face, that hadhaunted him on the only previous time when he had tried to close hiseyes.
Long before day Cicely heard her father's voice bidding her awake anddress herself, and handing in a light. The call was welcome, for ithad been a night of strange dreams and sadder wakenings to the sense"it had come at last"--yet the one comfort, "Humfrey is near." Shedressed herself in those plain black garments she had assumed inLondon, and in due time came down to where her father awaited her. Shewas pale, silent, and passive, and obeyed mechanically as he made hertake a little food. She looked about as if for some one, and he said,"Humfrey will meet us anon." Then he himself put on her cloak, hood,and muffler. She was like one in a dream, never asking where they weregoing, and thus they left the house. There was light from a waningmoon, and by it he led her to the church.
It was a strange wedding in that morning moonlight streaming in at theeast window of that grand old church, and casting the shadows of thecolumns and arches on the floor, only aided by one wax light, which, asMr. Heatherthwayte took care to protest, was not placed on the holytable out of superstition, but because he could not see without it.Indeed the table stood lengthways in the centre aisle, and would havebeen bare, even of a white cloth, had not Richard begged for aCommunion for the young pair to speed them on their perilous way, andMr. Heatherthwayte--almost under protest--consented, since a sea voyageand warlike service in a foreign land lay before them. But, exceptthat he wore no surplice, he had resigned himself to Master Richard onthat most unnatural morning, and stifled his inmost sighs when he hadto pronounce the name Bride, given, not by himself, but by some Romishpriest--when the bridegroom, with the hand wounded for Queen Mary'ssake, gave a ruby ring, most unmistakably coming from that sameperilous quarter,--and above all when the pair and the father knelt indeep reverence. Yet their devotion was evidently so earnest and soheartfelt that he knew not how to blame it, and he could not but blessthem with his whole heart as he walked down with them to the wharf.All were silent, except that Cicely once paused and said she wanted tospeak to "Father." He came to her side, and she took his arm insteadof Humfrey's.
"Sir," she said; "it has come to me that now my sweet mother is leftalone it would be no small joy to her, and of great service to our goodhost's little daughter, if Oil-of-Gladness could take my place at homefor a year or two."
"None will do that, Cis; but there is much that would be well in thenotion, and I will consider of it. She is a maid of good conditions,and the mother is lonesome."
His consideration resulted in his making the proposal, much startling,though greatly gratifying. Master Heatherthwayte, who thanked him,talked of his honour for that discreet and godly woman Mistress Susan,and said he must ponder and pray upon it, and would reply when Mr.Talbot returned from his voyage.
At the wharf lay the Mastiff's boat in charge of Gervas and Gillingham.All three stepped into it together, the most silent bride andbridegroom perhaps that the Humber had ever seen. Only each of thethree wrung the hand of the good clergyman. At that moment all thebel
ls in Hull broke forth with a joyous peal, which by the associationmade the bride look up with a smile. Her husband forced one in return;but his father's eyes, which she could not see, filled with tears. Heknew it was in exultation at her mother's death, and they hurried intothe boat lest she should catch the purport of the shouts that werebeginning to arise as the townsfolk awoke to the knowledge that theirenemy was dead.
The fires of Smithfield were in the remembrance of this generation. Thecities of Flanders were writhing under the Spanish yoke; "the richestspoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain," were already musteringto reduce England to the condition of Antwerp or Haarlem; and onlyElizabeth's life had seemed to lie between them and her who was boundby her religion to bring all this upon the peaceful land. No wonderthose who knew not the tissue of cruel deceits and treacheries that hadworked the final ruin of the captive, and believed her guilty offearful crimes, should have burst forth in a wild tumult of joy, suchas saddened even the Protestant soul of Mr. Heatherthwayte, as heturned homewards after giving his blessing to the mournful young girl,whom the boat was bearing over the muddy waters of the Hull.
They soon had her on board, but the preparations were hardly yetcomplete, nor could the vessel make her way down the river until theevening tide. It was a bright clear day, and a seat on deck wasarranged for the lady, where she sat with Humfrey beside her, holdingher cloak round her, and telling her--strange theme for a bridalday--all he thought well to tell her of those last hours, when Mary hadtruly shown herself purified by her long patience, and exalted by thehope that her death had in it somewhat of martyrdom.
His father meantime superintended the work of the crew, being extremelyanxious to lose no time, and to sail before night. Mr.Heatherthwayte's anxiety brought him on board again, for he wanted toask more questions about the Bridgefield doings ere beginning hisponderings and his prayers respecting his decision for his littledaughter; nor had he taken his final leave when the anchor was atlength weighed, and the ship had passed by the strange old gables,timbered houses, and open lofts, that bounded the harbour out from theHull river into the Humber itself, while both the Talbots breathed morefreely; but as the chill air of evening made itself felt, theypersuaded Cicely to let her husband take her down to her cabin.
It was at this moment, in the deepening twilight, that the ship washailed, and a boat came alongside, and there was a summons, "In theQueen's name," and a slightly made lean figure in black came up theside. He was accompanied by a stout man, apparently a constable. Therewas a moment's pause, then the new-comer said "Kinsman Talbot--"
"I count no kindred with betrayers, Cuthbert Langston," said Richard,drawing himself up with folded arms.
"Scorn me not, Richard Talbot," was the reply; "you stood my friendonce when none other did so, and for that cause have I hindered muchhurt to you and yours. But for me you had been in a London jail forthese three weeks past. Nor do I come to do you evil now. Give up thewench, and your name shall never be brought forward, since the matteris to be private. Behold a warrant from the Council empowering me tobring before them the person of Bride Hepburn, otherwise called CicelyTalbot."
"Man of treacheries and violence," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, standingforward, an imposing figure in his full black gown and white ruff, "goback! The lady is not for thy double-dealing, nor is there now anysuch person as either Bride Hepburn or Cicely Talbot."
"I cry you mercy," sneered Langston. "I see how it is! I shall haveto bear your reverence likewise away for a treasonable act inperforming the office of matrimony for a person of royal blood withoutconsent of the Queen. And your reverence knows the penalty."
At that instant there rang from the forecastle a never-to-be-forgottenhowl of triumphant hatred and fury, and with a spring like that of atiger, Gillingham bounded upon him with a shout, "Remember Babington!"and grappled with him, dragging him backwards to the bulwark. Richardand the constable both tried to seize the fiercely struggling forms,but in vain. They were over the side in a moment, and there was aheavy splash into the muddy waters of the Humber, thick with thedowncome of swollen rivers, thrown back by the flowing tide.
Humfrey came dashing up from below, demanding who was overboard, andready to leap to the rescue wherever any should point in the darkness,but his father withheld him, nor, indeed, was there sound or eddy to beperceived.
"It is the manifest judgment of God," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, in alow, awe-stricken voice.
But the constable cried aloud that a murder had been done in resistingthe Queen's warrant.
With a ready gesture the minister made Humfrey understand that he mustkeep his wife in the cabin, and Richard at the same time called Mr.Heatherthwayte and all present to witness that, murder as itundoubtedly was, it had not been in resisting the Queen's warrant, butin private revenge of the servant, Harry Gillingham, for his masterBabington, whom he believed to have been betrayed by this gentleman.
It appeared that the constable knew neither the name of the gentlemannor whom the warrant mentioned. He had only been summoned in theQueen's name to come on board the Mastiff to assist in securing theperson of a young gentlewoman, but who she was, or why she was to bearrested, the man did not know. He saw no lady on deck, and he was byno means disposed to make any search, and the presence of MasterHeatherthwayte likewise impressed him much with the belief that all wasright with the gentlemen.
Of course it would have been his duty to detain the Mastiff for aninquiry into the matter, but the poor man was extremely ill at ease inthe vessel and among the retainers of my Lord of Shrewsbury; and inpoint of fact, they might all have been concerned in a crime of muchdeeper dye without his venturing to interfere. He saw no one toarrest, the warrant was lost, the murderer was dead, and he wasthankful enough to be returned to his boat with Master Richard Talbot'sassurance that it was probable that no inquiry would be made, but thatif it were, the pilot would be there to bear witness of his innocence,and that he himself should return in a month at latest with the Mastiff.
Master Heatherthwayte consoled the constable further by saying he wouldreturn in his boat, and speak for him if there were any inquiry afterthe other passenger.
"I must speak my farewells here," he said, "and trust we shall have nocoil to meet you on your return, Master Richard."
"But for her," said Humfrey, "I could not let my father face it alone.When she is in safety"--
"Tush, lad," said his father, "such plotters as yonder poor wretch hadbecome are not such choice prizes as to be inquired for. Men are onlytoo glad to be rid of them when their foul work is done."
"So farewell, good Master Heatherthwayte," added Humfrey, "with thanksfor this day's work. I have read of good and evil geniuses or angels,be they which they may, haunting us for life, and striving for themastery. Methinks my Cis hath found both on the same Humber whichbrought her to us."
"Nay, go not forth with Pagan nor Popish follies on thy tongue, youngman," said Heatherthwayte, "but rather pray that the blessing of theHoly One, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of thy father,may be with thee and thine in this strange land, and bring thee safelyback in His own time. And surely He will bless the faithful."
And Richard Talbot said Amen.