CHAPTER THREE.
WHO CAN SHE BE?
"O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands--life hath snares."
Longfellow.
"Now, sit you down on de bench," said Regina, kindly. "Poor maid! youtremble, you are white. _Ach_! when folks shall do as dey should, deyshall not do as dey do no more. Now we shall have von pleasant talkingtogeder, you and I. You know de duties of de bower-woman? or I tell demyou?"
"Would you tell me, an' it please you?" answered Amphillis, modestly."I do not know much, I dare say."
"_Gut_! Now, listen. In de morning, you are ready before your ladycalls; you keep not her awaiting. Maybe you sleep in de truckle-bed inher chamber; if so, you dress more quieter as mouse, you wake not herup. She wakes, she calls--you hand her garments, you dress her hair.If she be wedded lady, you not to her chamber go ere her lord be away.Mind you be neat in your dress, and lace you well, and keep your hairtidy, wash your face, and your hands and feet, and cut short your nails.Every morning you shall your teeth clean. Take care, take much carewhat you do. You walk gravely, modestly; you talk low, quiet; you carryyou sad [Note 1] and becomingly. Mix water plenty with your wine atdinner: you take not much wine, dat should shocking be! You carve dedishes, but you press not nobody to eat--dat is not good manners. Youwash hands after your lady, and you look see there be two seats betwixther and you--no nearer you go [Note 2]. You be quiet, quiet! sad, soberalways--no chatter fast, no scamper, no loud laugh. You see?"
"I see, and I thank you," said Amphillis. "I hope I am not a giglot."
"You are not--no, no! Dere be dat are. Not you. Only mind you not sobecome. Young maids can be too careful never, never! You lose yourgood name in one hour, but in one year you win it not back."
And Regina's plump round face went very sad, as if she remembered somesuch instance of one who was dear to her.
"_Ach so_!--Well! den if your lady have daughters young, she may dem setin your care. You shall den have good care dey learn courtesy [Note 3],and gaze not too much from de window, and keep very quiet in de bower[Note 4]. And mind you keep dem--and yourself too--from de mans. Mansis bad!"
Amphillis was able to say, with a clear conscience, that she had nohankering after the society of those perilous creatures.
"See you," resumed Regina, with some warmth, "dere is one good man inone hundert mans. No more! De man you see, shall he be de hundert man,or one von de nine and ninety? What you tink?"
"I think he were more like to be of the ninety and nine," said Amphilliswith a little laugh. "But how for the women, Mistress Regina? Be theyall good?"
Regina shook her head in a very solemn manner.
"Dere is bad mans," answered she, "and dey is bad: and dere is badwomans, and dey is badder; and dere is bad angels, and dey is baddest ofall. Look you, you make de sharpest vinegar von de sweetest wine.Amphillis, you are good maid, I tink; keep you good! And dat will say,keep you to yourself, and run not after no mans, nor no womans neider.You keep your lady's counsel true and well, but you keep no secrets fromher. When any say to you, `Amphillis, you tell not your lady,' you sayto yourself, `I want noting to do wid you; I keep to myself, and I haveno secrets from my lady.' Dat is _gut_!"
"Mistress Regina, wot you who is the lady I am to serve?"
"I know noting, no more dan you--no, not de name of de lady you disevening saw. She came from de Savoy--so much know I, no more."
Amphillis knew that goldsmiths were very often the bankers of theircustomers, and that their houses were a frequent rendezvous for businessinterviews. It was, therefore, not strange at all that Regina shouldnot be further in the confidence of the lady in question.
"Now you shall not tarry no later," said Regina, kissing her. "Youserve well your lady, you pray to God, and you keep from de mans.Good-night!"
"Your pardon granted, Mistress Regina, but you have not yet told me whatI need carry withal."
"_Ach so_! My head gather de wool, as you here say. Why, you take withyou raiment enough to begin--dat is all. Your lady find you gownsafter, and a saddle to ride, and all dat you need. Only de raiment tobegin, and de brains in de head--she shall not find you dat. Take widyou as much of dem as you can get. Now run--de dark is _gekommen_."
It relieved Amphillis to find that she needed to carry nothing with, herexcept clothes, brains, and prudence. The first she knew that her unclewould supply; for the second, she could only take all she had; and as tothe last, she must do her best to cultivate it.
Mr Altham, on hearing the report, charged his daughters to see thattheir cousin had every need supplied; and to do those young ladiesjustice, they took fairly about half their share of the work, until theday of the tournament, when they declared that nothing on earth shouldmake them touch a needle. Instead of which, they dressed themselves intheir best, and, escorted by Mr Clement Winkfield, were favoured bypermission to slip in at the garden door, and to squeeze into a corneramong the Duke's maids and grooms.
A very grand sight it was. In the royal stand sat the King, old Edwardthe Third, scarcely yet touched by that pitiful imbecility whichtroubled his closing days; and on his right hand sat the queen of thejousts, the young Countess of Cambridge, bride of Prince Edmund, withthe Duke of Lancaster on her other hand, the Duchess being on the leftof the King. All the invited ladies were robed uniformly in green andwhite, the prize-giver herself excepted. The knights were attired asClement had described them. I am not about to describe the tournament,which, after all, was only a glorified prize-fight, and, therefore,suited to days when few gentlemen could read, and no forks were used formeals. We call ourselves civilised now, yet some who considerthemselves such, seem to entertain a desire to return to barbarism.Human nature, in truth, is the same in all ages, and what is calledculture is only a thin veneer. Nothing but to be made partaker of theDivine nature will implant the heavenly taste.
The knights who were acclaimed victors, or at least the best jousters onthe field, were led up to the royal stand, and knelt before the queen ofthe jousts, who placed a gold chaplet on the head of the first, and tieda silken scarf round the shoulders of the second and third. Happily, noone was killed or even seriously injured--not a very unusual state ofthings. At a tournament eighteen years later, the Duke of Lancaster'sson-in-law, the last of the Earls of Pembroke, was left dead upon thefield.
Alexandra and Ricarda came back very tired, and not in exceptionallygood tempers, as Amphillis soon found out, since she was invariably asufferer on these occasions. They declared themselves, the nextmorning, far too weary to put in a single stitch; and occupiedthemselves chiefly in looking out of the window and exchanging airynothings with customers. But when Clement came in the afternoon with aninvitation to a dance at his mother's house, their exhausted energiesrallied surprisingly, and they were quite able to go, though the samefarce was played over again on the ensuing morning.
By dint of working early and late, Amphillis was just ready on the dayappointed--small thanks to her cousins, who not only shirked her work,but were continually summoning her from it to do theirs. Mr Althamgave his niece some good advice, along with a handsome silver brooch, anet of gold tissue for her hair, commonly called a crespine or dovecote,and a girdle of black leather, set with bosses of silver-gilt. Thesewere the most valuable articles that had ever yet been in herpossession, and Amphillis felt herself very rich, though she could havedispensed with Ricarda's envious admiration of her treasures, andAlexandra's acetous remarks about some people who were always grabbingas much as they could get. In their father's presence theseobservations were omitted, and Mr Altham had but a faint idea of whathis orphan niece endured at the hands--or rather the tongues--of hisdaughters, who never forgave her for being more gently born thanthemselves.
Lammas Day dawned warm and bright, and after early mass in the Church ofSaint Mary at Strand--which nobody in those days would have dreamed ofmissing on a saint's day--Amphillis placed herself at an upstairs windowto watch
for her escort. She had not many minutes to wait, before twohorses came up the narrow lane from the Savoy Palace, and trotting downthe Strand, stopped at the patty-maker's door. After them came abaggage-mule, whose back was fitted with a framework intended to sustainluggage.
One horse carried a man attired in white linen, and the other bore asaddle and pillion, the latter being then the usual means of conveyancefor a woman. On the saddle before it sat a middle-aged man in the royallivery, which was then white and red. The man in linen alighted, andafter a few minutes spent in conversation with Mr Altham, he carriedout Amphillis's luggage, in two leather trunks, which were strapped oneon each side of the mule. As soon as she saw her trunks disappearing,Amphillis ran down and took leave of her uncle and cousins.
"Well, my maid, God go with thee!" said Mr Altham. "Forget not thineold uncle and these maids; and if thou be ill-usen, or any trouble hapthee, pray the priest of thy parish to write me a line thereanent, and Iwill see what can be done."
"Fare thee well, Phyllis!" said Alexandra, and Ricarda echoed the words.
Mr Altham helped his niece to mount the pillion, seated on which, shehad to put her arms round the waist of the man in front, and clasp herhands together; for without this precaution, she would have beenunseated in ten minutes. There was nothing to keep her on, as she satwith her left side to the horse's head, and roads in those days wererough to an extent of which we, accustomed to macadamised ways, canscarcely form an idea now.
And so, pursued for "luck" by an old shoe from Ricarda's hand, AmphillisNeville took her leave of London, and rode forth into the wide world toseek her fortune.
Passing along the Strand as far as the row of houses ran, at the StrandCross they turned to the left, and threading their way in and out amongthe detached houses and little gardens, they came at last into Holborn,and over Holborn Bridge into Smithfield. Under Holborn Bridge ran theFleet river, pure and limpid, on its way to the silvery Thames; and asthey emerged from Cock Lane, the stately Priory of Saint Bartholomewfronted them a little to the right. Crossing Smithfield, they turned upLong Lane, and thence into Aldersgate Street, and in a few minutes morethe last houses of London were left behind them. As they came out intothe open country, Amphillis was greeted, to her surprise, by a voice sheknew.
"God be wi' ye, Mistress Amphillis!" said Clement Winkfield, coming upand walking for a moment alongside, as the horse mounted the slightrising ground. "Maybe you would take a little farewell token of minehand, just for to mind you when you look on it, that you have friends inLondon that shall think of you by nows and thens."
And Clement held up to Amphillis a little silver box, with a ringattached, through which a chain or ribbon could be passed to wear itround the neck. A small red stone was set on one side.
"'Tis a good charm," said he. "There is therein writ a Scripture, thatshall bear you safe through all perils of journeying, and an hair of ashe-bear, that is good against witchcraft; and the carnelian stoneappeaseth anger. Trust me, it shall do you no harm to bear it anighyou."
Amphillis, though a sensible girl for her time, was not before her time,and therefore had full faith in the wonderful virtues of amulets. Sheaccepted the silver box with the entire conviction that she had gained atreasure of no small value. Simple, good-natured Clement lifted hiscap, and turned back down Aldersgate Street, while Amphillis and herescort went on towards Saint Albans.
A few miles they rode in silence, broken now and then by a passingremark from the man in linen, chiefly on the deep subject of the hotweather, and by the sumpterman's frequent requests that his mule would"gee-up," which the perverse quadruped in question showed littleinclination to do. At length, as the horse checked its speed to walk upa hill, the man in front of Amphillis said--
"Know you where you be journeying, my mistress?"
"Into Derbyshire," she answered. "Have there all I know."
"But you wot, surely, whom you go to serve?"
"Truly, I wot nothing," she replied, "only that I go to be bower-womanto some lady. The lady that saw me, and bound me thereto, said that Imight look to learn on the road."
"Dear heart! and is that all they told you?"
"All, my master."
"Words must be costly in those parts," said the man in linen.
"Well," answered the other, drawing out the word in a tone which mightmean a good deal. "Words do cost much at times, Master Saint Oly. Theyhave cost men their lives ere now."
"Ay, better men than you or me," replied the other. "Howbeit, mymistress, there is no harm you should know--is there, Master Dugan?--that you be bounden for the manor of Hazelwood, some six miles to thenorth of Derby, where dwell Sir Godfrey Foljambe and his dame."
"No harm; so you tarry there at this present," said Master Dugan.
"Ay, I've reached my hostel," was the response.
"Then my Lady Foljambe is she that I must serve?"
The man in linen exchanged a smile with the man in livery.
"You shall see her the first, I cast no doubt, and she shall tell youyour duties," answered Dugan.
Amphillis sat on the pillion, and meditated on her information as theyjourneyed on. There was evidently something more to tell, which she wasnot to be told at present. After wondering for a little while what itmight be, and deciding that her imagination was not equal to the tasklaid upon it, she gave it up, and allowed herself to enjoy the sweetcountry scents and sounds without apprehension for the future.
For six days they travelled on in this fashion, about twenty miles eachday, staying every night but one at a wayside inn, where Amphillis wasalways delivered into the care of the landlady, and slept with herdaughter or niece; once at a private house, the owners of which wereapparently friends of Mr Dugan. They baited for the last time atDerby, and about two o'clock in the afternoon rode into the village ofHazelwood.
It was only natural that Amphillis should feel a little nervous anduneasy, in view of her introduction to her new abode and unknowncompanions. She was not less so on account of the mystery whichappeared to surround the nameless mistress. Why did everybody whoseemed to know anything make such a secret of the affair?
The Manor house of Hazelwood was a pretty and comfortable place enough.It stood in a large garden, gay with autumn flowers, and a highembattled wall protected it from possible enemies. The trio rode inunder an old archway, through a second gate, and then drew up beneaththe entrance arch, the door being--as is yet sometimes seen in oldinns--at the side of the arch running beneath the house. A man inlivery came forward to take the horses.
"Well, Master Saint Oly," said he; "here you be!"
"I could have told thee that, Sim," was the amused reply. "Is all well?Sir Godfrey at home?"
"Ay to the first question, and No to the second."
"My Lady is in her bower?"
"My Lady's in the privy garden, whither you were best take the damsel toher."
Sim led the horses away to the stable, and Saint Oly turned toAmphillis.
"Then, if it please you, follow me, my mistress; we were best to go tomy Lady at once."
Amphillis followed, silent, curious, and a little fluttered.
They passed under the entrance arch inwards, and found themselves in asmaller garden than the outer, enclosed on three sides by the house andits adjacent outbuildings. In the midst was a spreading tree, with aform underneath it; and in its shade sat a lady and a girl about the ageof Amphillis. Another girl was gathering flowers, and an elderly womanwas coming towards the tree from behind. Saint Oly conducted Amphillisto the lady who sat under the tree.
"Dame," said he, "here, under your good leave, is Mistress AmphillisNeville, that is come to you from London town, to serve her you wot of."
This, then, was Lady Foljambe. Amphillis looked up, and saw a tall,handsome, fair-complexioned woman, with a rather grave, not to saystern, expression of face. "Good," said Lady Foljambe. "You arewelcome, Mistress Neville. I trust you can do your duty, and not giggleand chatter?" br />
The girl who sat by certainly giggled on hearing this question, and LadyFoljambe extinguished her by a look.
"I will do my best, Dame," replied Amphillis, nervously.
"None can do more," said her Ladyship more graciously. "Are you awearywith your journey?"
"But a little, Dame, I thank you. Our stage to-day was but short."
"You left your friends well?" was the next condescending query.
"Yes, Dame, I thank you."
Lady Foljambe turned her head. "Perrote!" she said.
"Dame!" answered the elderly woman.
"Take the damsel up to your Lady's chambers, and tell her what herduties will be.--Mistress Neville, one matter above all other must Ipress upon you. Whatever you see or hear in your Lady's chamber isnever to come beyond. You will company with my damsels, Agatha--" witha slight move of her head towards the girl at her side--"and Marabel,"--indicating by another gesture the one who was gathering flowers."Remember, in your leisure times, when you are talking together, nomention of _your_ Lady must ever be made. If you hear it, rebuke it.If you make it, you may not like that which shall follow. Be wise anddiscreet, and you shall find it for your good. Chatter and be giddy,and you shall find it far otherwise. Now, follow Mistress Perrote."
Amphillis louted silently, and as silently followed.
The elderly woman, who was tall, slim, and precise-looking, led her intothe house, and up the stairs.
When two-thirds of them were mounted, she turned to the left along apassage, lifted a heavy curtain which concealed its end, and let it dropagain behind them. They stood in a small square tower, on a littlelanding which gave access to three doors. The door on the right handstood ajar; the middle one was closed; but the left was not only closed,but locked and barred heavily. Mistress Perrote led the way into theroom on the right, a pleasant chamber, which looked out into the largergarden.
At the further end of the room stood a large bed of blue camlet, with acanopy, worked with fighting griffins in yellow. A large chest ofcarved oak stood at the foot. Along the wall ran a settle, or longbench, furnished with blue cushions; and over the back was thrown adorsor of black worsted, worked with the figures of David and Goliath,in strict fourteenth-century costume. The fireplace was supplied withandirons, a shovel, and a fire-fork, which served the place of a poker.A small leaf table hung down by the wall at one end of the settle, andover it was fixed a round mirror, so high up as to give littleencouragement to vanity. On hooks round the walls were hangings of bluetapestry, presenting a black diamond pattern, within a border of redroses.
"Will you sit?" said Mistress Perrote, speaking in a voice not exactlysharp, but short and staccato, as if she were--what more voluble personsoften profess to be--unaccustomed to public speaking, and not verytalkative at any time. "Your name, I think, is Amphillis Neville?"
Amphillis acknowledged her name.
"You have father and mother?"
"I have nothing in the world," said Amphillis, with a shake of her head,"save an uncle and cousins, which dwell in London town."
"Ha!" said Mistress Perrote, in a significant tone. "That is whereforeyou were chosen."
"Because I had no kin?" said Amphillis, looking up.
"That, and also that you were counted discreet. And discreet you hadneed be for this charge."
"What charge?" she asked, blankly.
"You know not?"
"I know nothing. Nobody would tell me anything."
Mistress Perrote's set features softened a little.
"Poor child!" she said. "You are young--too young--to be given a chargelike this. You will need all your discretion, and more."
Amphillis felt more puzzled than ever.
"You may make a friend of Marabel, if you choose; but beware how youtrust Agatha. But remember, as her Ladyship told you, no word that youhear, no thing that you see, must be suffered to go forth of thesechambers. You may repeat _nothing_! Can you do this?"
"I will bear it in mind," was the reply. "But, pray you, if I may ask--seeing I know nothing--is this lady that I shall serve an evil woman,that you caution me thus?"
"No!" answered Mistress Perrote, emphatically. "She is a most terriblyinjured--What say I? Forget my words. They were not discreet. Mary,Mother! there be times when a woman's heart gets the better of herbrains. There be more brains than hearts in this world. Lay by yourhood and mantle, child, on one of those hooks, and smooth your hair, andrepose you until supper-time. To-morrow you shall see your Lady."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. Sad, at this time, did not mean sorrowful, but serious.
Note 2. These are the duties of a bower-woman, laid down in the Booksof Courtesy at that time.
Note 3. Then a very expressive word, including both morals and manners.
Note 4. A private sitting-room for ladies.