CHAPTER FOUR.
SUDDEN CHANGES.
Great was the lamentation among the cousins at Trent House, when it wasfound that Mrs Jane could stay only two days with them, instead of thetwo months upon which they had reckoned.
"I am the most to be pitied, Jane," said one of the young ladies, whosename was Juliana Coningsby, "for I start for Lyme in a week hence, and Ihad hoped to win you to accompany me thither. Now I know not what to dofor a convoy."
"Well, I cannot go, Gillian," was the answer, "yet may I help you atthis pinch. Take you my man as your guard; I can contrive without him,since my good cousin, Mr Lascelles, is to return with me."
A little friendly altercation followed, Mrs Juliana protesting that shecould not dream of depriving her cousin of so needful a servant, andMrs Jane assuring her that the pleasure of helping her out of adifficulty was more than compensation for so slight an inconvenience;but in the end it was agreed that Jackson should proceed with MrsJuliana, returning to Bentley Hall when she should no longer require hisservices.
The party of eight, therefore, who had left Bentley, were reduced tofour on their return, Mrs Jane and Mr Lascelles on one horse, Jennyand Mr Lascelles' groom upon another.
They reached the Hall late on a Thursday evening, Mr Lascellessuggesting when they came to the lodge that Mrs Jane should sit andrest for a few minutes, while he rode up to the house to hear the latestnews of Mr Lane's health.
The woman who kept the lodge came out courtesying to meet them, andJenny wondered why they did not ask her how the old gentleman was.
Mr Lascelles, however, had ridden hastily forward, and he soon returnedwith cheering news. Mr Lane had "got well over this brunt," he said;and Mrs Jane professed herself much cheered and comforted to hear it.
In the hall, as they entered, was Millicent.
"Well, Millicent, I'm not murdered, you see!" cried Mrs Jane cheerily.
"Indeed, Mrs Jane, I'm glad to see it, in especial considering all thewarnings we've had. Three times of a night hath old Cupid bayed themoon; and a magpie lighted on the tree beside my window only thismorning; and last night I heard the death-watch, as plain as plain couldbe!"
"Oh, then, that's for you, not me," responded Mrs Jane quitecheerfully; "so look Jackson doth not murder you on his return, as hehas left me unharmed."
Millicent looked horrified.
"Oh me! Mrs Jane, is the fellow coming back?"
Mrs Jane only laughed, and said, "Look out!"
Considering the chain of shocks and disappointments which Mrs Jane hadsuffered, Jenny was astonished to see how extremely bright and mirthfulshe was, and still more surprised to perceive that thislight-heartedness appeared to infect the Colonel. It was not, however,shared by Mrs Lane.
"Well, Jane, child," she said one morning to her daughter, "I am trulyglad to see thee so light of heart, in especial after all the troublesand discomfitures thou hast gone through. 'Tis a blessing to have ahopeful nature."
"Oh, I never trouble over past clouds when the sun shines again, madam,"said Mrs Jane cheerily.
"I marvel what we can make of your man, when he cometh back," resumedMrs Lane. "If you go not now again into Somerset, you will have nowork for him to do."
"Maybe, Madam, he shall not return hither," answered her daughter.
"My cousin, Colonel Wyndham, had some notion he could find him a goodplace down yonder, and I thought you would judge it best to leave thematter to his discretion."
"Oh, very good," assented Mrs Lane. "So much the better. I would nothave the young man feel himself ill-used, when my Lord Wilmot spake sowell of him."
"There is no fear of that, I hope," replied Mrs Jane.
"O Mrs Jane! I am so thankful to hear that creature may not come back,after all!" cried Millicent.
"Ay, Millicent, you may sleep at ease in your bed," said Mrs Jane,looking amused. "But I marvel why you feared him thus. I found him aright decent fellow, I can assure you."
"Then I can assure you solemnly, madam," answered Millicent, with a lookto match her words, "that is more than I did. Never can I forget thehorrid moment when I thought that nasty black creature went about totake me by the hand. It made me feel creepy all over--faugh! I cannotfind words to tell you!"
"Pray don't trouble yourself," calmly responded Mrs Jane. "I am goingupstairs, so you need not give yourself the labour to look for them."
Before many weeks were over, Colonel Lane came one evening into thedrawing-room, to report a wonderful piece of good news.
"His Majesty hath escaped the realm!" cried he, "and is now clean oversea to France."
"God be praised!" exclaimed his mother. "This is indeed good news."
Farmer Lavender was almost as excited as his landlord, and declared thathe would light a bonfire in the farm-yard, if he could be sure thestacks wouldn't get alight.
"Nay, Joe, I wouldn't," said his prudent mother. "Thou can be as gladas thou wilt, and the Parliament 'll say nought to thee; but bonfires isbonfires, lad."
Will Jackson did not come back to Bentley, and Mrs Jane remarked in asatisfied tone that she supposed Colonel Wyndham had found a place tosuit him.
Millicent contemptuously observed to Jenny that she wondered how ColonelWyndham, who was a gentleman born, could take any trouble about thatcreature Jackson.
"Well, and I do too, a bit," said Jenny, "for I'm sure the Colonel didnot seem over pleased when Will would have taken him by the hand as wewas a-coming up to the house."
"No, you don't say!" ejaculated Millicent. "Did he really, now?--to theColonel? Well, I'm sure, the world's getting turned upside down."
Millicent was considerably more of that opinion when a few months wereover. Early one spring morning, before anyone was up, some slight butsingular noises roused Mrs Jane from sleep, and calling Jenny, shedesired her to look out of the window and see what was the matter.
Jenny's shriek, when she did so, brought her young mistress to thecasement in a moment. Bentley Hall was surrounded by armed men--Parliamentary soldiers, standing still and stern--awaiting in completesilence the orders of their commander.
Mrs Jane went very white, but her self-command did not desert her.
"Never mind screaming, Jenny," she said coolly. "That will do no good.They'll not take you, child; and these Roundheads, whatever else theyare, are decent men that harm not women and children. I must say somuch for them. Come quick, and dress me, and I will go down to them."
"Oh dear!" cried Jenny. "Madam, they'll kill you!"
"Not they!" said the young lady. "I'm not afraid,--not of a man, at anyrate. I don't say I should have no fear of a ghost. Jenny, hast thoulost thy head? Here be two shoes--not a pair--thou hast given me; andwhat art thou holding out the pomade for? I don't wash in pomade."
Jenny, who was far more flurried and frightened than her mistress,confusedly apologised as she exchanged the pomade for the soap.
"But--Oh dear! madam, will they take you?" she asked.
"Maybe not, child," said Mrs Jane, quite coolly. "Very like not. Iguess 'tis rather my brother they want. We shall see all the sooner,Jenny, if thou makest no more blunders."
Jenny, however, contrived to make several more, for she was almost tooexcited and terrified to know what she was doing. She put on MrsJane's skirt wrong side out, offered her the left sleeve of her kirtlefor the right arm, and generally behaved like a girl who was frightenedout of her wits.
Mrs Jane, dressed at last, softly opened her door, and desired Jenny tofollow.
"I will wake none else till I know what the matter is," she said.
"Come after me, and I will speak with the Captain of these men from thelittle window in the hall."
Jenny obeyed, feeling as if she were more dead than alive.
Mrs Jane quietly unfastened the little window, and said to a soldierwho had taken up his position close beside it--"I would speak with yourCaptain."
The Captain appeared in a moment.
"For wha
t reason are you here?" asked the young lady.
"Madam, I hold a warrant to take the bodies of Thomas Lane, and JohnLane his son, and I trust that none in this house shall impede me in theexecution of my duty."
"My brother!--and my father!" exclaimed Mrs Jane, under her breath.
"Sir, we shall not do that. But will you suffer me to say to you thatmy father is an old and infirm man, in weakly health, and I beg of youthat you will be as merciful to his condition as your duty will allow."
The Roundhead captain bowed.
"Be assured, madam," he said respectfully, "that Mr Lane shall farebetter for the beseechment of so good a daughter, and that I will domine utmost to have him gently handled."
"I thank you, sir," replied Mrs Jane, as she closed the window.
Then, Jenny still following, a little less frightened, since the enemyseemed after all to be a man, and not a very bad man either.
Mrs Jane went upstairs and tapped at her brother's door.
"Who's there?" demanded the Colonel's voice very sleepily.
"The reward of your deeds," answered his sister, drily. "Make haste andbusk thee, Jack; thou art wanted to go to prison."
"Very good!" responded the Colonel, to Jenny's astonishment. "Do youbear me company?"
"Nay; would I did, rather than our father."
"Our father! Is _he_--?"
"Ay. God have mercy on us!" said Mrs Jane gravely.
"Amen!" came through the closed door.
"Jenny, go back to my chamber," said her mistress. "I will come to theeanon. The hardest of my work lieth afore me yet."
For two hours all was haste and tumult in Bentley Hall. Then, when thesoldiers had departed, carrying their prisoners with them, a hush almostlike that of death fell upon the house.
Mrs Lane had wept till she had no more tears to shed; her daughter didnot weep, but she looked very white and sad.
"Now you mark my words!" said Millicent to Jenny; "'tis that Jackson hasdone it. He's played the traitor. Didn't I always say he was aRoundhead! Depend upon it, he's betrayed something the Colonel's donein His Majesty's service, and that's why that wicked Parliament's downon him. Robin, he says the same. He never did like that scheming blackcreature, and no more did I."
"Well, I don't know! He seemed a decent sort o' man, far as I couldsee, only that he wasn't well-favoured," said Jenny doubtfully.
"He was a snake in the grass!" said Millicent solemnly; "and you'll findthat out, Jenny Lavender."
To the surprise of the whole family, and themselves most of all, theprisoners were released after only four months' detention. That wasconsidered an exceedingly short business in 1652. Neither father norson seemed any worse for their trial; the Roundheads, they said, had nottreated them ill, and had even allowed sundry extra comforts to old MrLane.
So matters dropped back into their old train at Bentley Hall for about amonth longer. Then, one August morning, Colonel Lane, who had ridden toKidderminster, entered the parlour with an open letter in his hand. Hisface was grave almost to sternness, and when his sister saw it, anexpression of alarm came into her eyes.
"A letter, Jane, from Penelope Wyndham," he said, giving her the letter.
"Mrs Millicent and Mrs Jenny, I pray you give us leave."
That was a civil way of saying, "Please to leave the room," and ofcourse it was at once obeyed. Evidently something of consequence was tobe discussed.
"I do hope Mrs Jane will not go away again," said Millicent.
"Well, I don't know; I shouldn't be sorry if she did," answered Jenny.
"Very like not; you think you'd go withal. But I can tell you it isvastly dull for us left behind. There's a bit of life when she ishere."
Jenny went up to Mrs Jane's room, where she occupied herself by tackingclean white ruffles into some of her mistress's gowns. She had notprogressed far when that young lady came up, with a very disturbed face.
"Let those be," she said, seeing how Jenny was employed. "Jenny, child,I am grieved to tell thee, but thou must needs return to thine ownhome."
"Send me away!" gasped Jenny. "Oh, Mrs Jane, madam, what have I done!"
"Nothing, child, nothing; 'tis not that. I am going away myself."
"And mustn't I go with you?" asked Jenny, in a very disappointed tone.
"To France? We are going to France, child."
Jenny felt in a whirl of astonishment. Going abroad in those days waslooked on as a very serious matter, not to be undertaken except for someimportant reason, and requiring a great deal of deliberation. And herewas Mrs Jane, after scarcely half-an-hour's reflection, announcing thatshe was going to start at once for France.
Mrs Jane put her hand in her pocket.
"Here be thy wages, Jenny," she said. "Twelve pound by the year weagreed on, and thou hast been with me scarce a year; howbeit, twelvepound let it be. And for the ill-conveniency I put thee to, to sendthee away thus suddenly, thou shalt have another pound, and my floweredtabby gown. Thou wilt soon win another place if thou list to tarry inservice, and my mother hath promised to commend thee heartily to anygentlewoman that would have thee.
"So cheer up, child; there is no need for thee to fret."
Jenny felt as if she had considerable need to fret. Here were all herdistinctions flying away from her at a minute's notice. Instead ofbeing Mrs Jenny, and sitting in the drawing-room at Bentley Hall, shewould once more be plain Jenny Lavender in the farmhouse kitchen. Itwas true her freedom would return to her; but by this time she hadbecome accustomed to the restraint, and did not mind it nearly so much.The tears overflowed and ran down.
"Come, come, child!" said Mrs Jane, giving her a gentle pat on theshoulder; "take not on thus, prithee. Thy life is yet before thee.Cheer up and play the woman! Ah, Jenny, maid, 'tis well for thee thouart not so high up as some I could name, and therefore shalt fall thelighter. Now go, and pack up thy mails, and Robin shall take thee andthem to the farm this evening."
"Must I go to-day, madam?" exclaimed Jenny, more dismayed than ever.
"I go myself to-day, Jenny," said Mrs Jane, gently but gravely. "Thematter will brook no delay. Take thine heart to thee, and do as I bidthee: thou wert best be out of it all."
Poor Jenny went slowly up to the garret to fetch her bags, which hadbeen stowed there out of the way.
As she came down with them in her hands, she met Millicent.
"You've had warning, have you?" said Millicent, in a whisper. "There'ssomewhat wrong, you take my word for it! You make haste and get away,and thank your stars you've a good home to go to. We're all to go,every soul save two--old Master's Diggory and me."
"What, Mr Featherstone too?" exclaimed Jenny.
"Oh, he's going with the Colonel to France. But Master and Madam, theyset forth to-morrow, and Diggory and I go with them. Mark my words,there's somewhat wrong! and if it goes much further, I shall just givemy warning and be off. I've no notion of getting into trouble for otherfolks."
"But whatever is it all about?" said Jenny.
"Well, if you want my thoughts on it," whispered Millicent, in animportant tone, "I believe it's all 'long of that Jackson. You thoughthe was a decent sort of fellow, you know. But you've to learn yet,Jenny Lavender, as all isn't gold as glitters."
"I think I'm finding that out, Mrs Millicent," sighed Jenny; "didn't Ithink I was made for life no further back than yesterday? However,there's no time to waste."
She packed up her things, and made a hurried dinner; took leave of allin the house, not without tears; and then, mounting Bay Winchesterbehind Robin Featherstone, rode home in the cool of the evening.
"Farewell, sweetheart!" said Featherstone, gallantly kissing Jenny'sfingers. "I go to France, but I leave my heart in Staffordshire. Prayyou, sweet Mrs Jenny, what shall I bring you for a fairing from the gaycity of Paris? How soon we shall return the deer knows; but you willwait for your faithful Robin?" And Mr Featherstone laid his handelegantly on his heart.
"Oh, you
'll forget all about me when you are over there taking yourpleasure," said Jenny, in a melancholy tone.
Mr Featherstone was only half through a fervent asseveration to theeffect that such a catastrophe was a complete impossibility, when FarmerLavender came out.
"What, Jenny I come to look at us?" said he. "Thou'rt as welcome, mylass, as flowers in May. But how's this--bags and all? Thou'st neverbeen turned away, child?"
"Not for nought ill, father," said Jenny, almost crying with conflictingfeelings; "but Mrs Jane, she's going to France, and all's that upset--"and Jenny sobbed too much to proceed.
Mr Featherstone came to the rescue, and explained matters.
"Humph!" said the farmer; "that's it, is it? World's upset, prettynigh, seems to me. Well, folks can't always help themselves--that'strue enough. Howbeit, thou'rt welcome home, Jenny! there's always aplace for thee here, if there's none anywhere else. You'll come in andtake a snack, Mr Featherstone?"
Mr Featherstone declined with effusive thanks. He had not a moment tospare. He remounted Winchester, shook hands with the farmer, kissed hishand to Jenny, and rode away. And the question whether Jenny would waitfor his return was left unanswered.
"I'm glad to see thee back, my lass," said old Mrs Lavender. "Home'sthe best place for young lasses. Maybe, too, thou'lt be safer at thefarm than at the Hall. The times be troublous; and if more mischief'slike to overtake the Colonel, though I shall be sorry enough to see it,I shan't be sorry to know thou art out of it. Art thou glad to comeback or not, my lass?"
"I don't know, Granny," said Jenny.
Kate laughed. "Have you had your fling and come down, Jenny?" sheasked; "or haven't you had fling enough?--which is it?"
"I think it's a bit of both," said Jenny. "It's grand to be at theHall, and ride in the coach, and sit in the pew at church, and that; butI used to get dreadful tired by times, it seemed so dull. There's adeal more fun here, and I'm freer like. But--"
Jenny left her "but" unfinished.
"Ay, there's a many buts, I shouldn't wonder," said Kate, laughing."Well, Jenny, you've seen somewhat of high life, and you've got it totalk about."
Jenny felt very sad when she went to church on the following Sunday.The Hall pew was empty, and Jenny herself was once more a mere nobody inthe corner of her father's seat. There was no coach to ride in; andvery humiliated she felt when Dorothy Campion gave her a smart blow onthe back as she went down the churchyard.
"Well, _Mrs_. Jenny! so you've come down from your pedestal? Going tobe very grand, weren't you?--couldn't see your old acquaintances lastSunday! But hey, presto, all is changed, and my fine young madam comedown to a farmhouse lass.
"How was it, Jenny? Did Mrs Jane catch you at the mirror, trying onher sky-coloured gown? or had her necklace slipped into your pocket byaccident? Come, tell us all about it."
"She gave me a gown, then," said Jenny, with spirit; "and that's more, Iguess, than she ever did to you, Dolly Campion. And as for why I'm comehome, it's neither here nor there. Mrs Jane's a-going to France, to beone of the Queen's ladies, maybe, and that's why; so you can take yourchange out o' that."
Miss Campion immediately proceeded to take her change out of it.
"Dear heart, Jenny, and why ever didn't you go and be one of the Queen'sladies, too?"
"Oh, she's climbed up so high, queens isn't good enough company forher," suggested Abigail Walker, coming to Dolly's help.
"Now, you two go your ways like tidy maids," said the voice of TomFenton behind them; "and don't make such a to-do of a Sabbath morning.
"Jenny, I'll see you home if you give me leave."
He spoke with a quiet dignity, which was not like the old Tom Fentonwhom Jenny had known; and his manner was more that of a friend helpingher to get rid of an annoyance, than that of a suitor who grasped at anopportunity of pleading his cause.
"I thank you, Tom, and I'll be glad of it," said the humbled andharassed Jenny.
So they went back together, Tom showing no sign that he heard Dorothy'sderisive cry of--
"Room for Her Majesty's Grace's Highness and her servant the carpenter!"
The word lover, at that day, meant simply a person who loved you; wherewe say "lover," they said "servant."
At the farmhouse door Tom took his leave.
"No, I thank you, Jenny," he said, when she asked him to come in; "I'mgoing on to Uncle Anthony's to dinner. Good morning."
And Jenny felt that some mysterious change in Tom had put a distancebetween him and her.