CHAPTER IX.
THE WOUNDED MESSENGER.
There was little fear that no fasts would be kept the month that theArchbishop was executed. So many were compelled to fast for want of foodthroughout England, that all the land might be said to mourn, althoughthey did not put on the outward semblance of it, as Mistress Mabel did.
Just as the men were thinking of leaving their homes again in the earlyspring, came a faint rumour that peace might be established, and many aheart beat high with hope that the commissioners who were to meet atUxbridge, and negotiate a reconciliation between the King and hispeople, might be able to conclude terms of adjustment satisfactory toboth parties. Maud felt sure that peace would be established at lastwhen she heard the news, and Bertram asked her in a whisper if Harrywould come home then; but to this question she could only shake her headand look up at the clouds racing across the stormy February sky, andthink that Harry had probably gone to the Father's home where ambitionand injustice could never mar the peace of the one great family.
She had come to this conclusion, because she thought if he were livinghe would surely have tried to see or communicate with his father beforethis, in spite of what had happened.
The meeting at Uxbridge took place just as the first spring blossomsbegan to whisper that the earth was not the cold, lifeless thing itlooked; that God had not forgotten the seeds in the time of theirdarkness, but that out of this He had made them spring forth, andthrough this He had made them strong. Thus thinking as she walkedthrough the fields, Maud sometimes wondered whether these dark times wasEngland's winter, out of which righteousness and truth would spring, andbe more strong for the struggle they had endured. Of course to her thismeant that the people would return to the King, and be more firm intheir allegiance than ever, and she hoped that the first promise of sucha result had already taken place.
But alas, for her, and the hopes of thousands like her, who had toendure silently, and witness misery they could not alleviate! thecommission broke up without anything being done, and men were hurriedfrom their homes to take up the sword, leaving the plough to be guidedby women's hands. Roger and the rest of his companions again leftHayslope, and Maud went in and out and tried to comfort the women fortheir loss.
Master Drury seemed to feel the failure of the Uxbridge commission mostkeenly, although he did not say much about it; yet even Mistress Mabelcould not fail to notice the whitening hair and the failing strength ofher brother, and spoke to Maud about it too. She had noted the changelong since, and now she felt sure that secret grief for Harry waspreying upon her guardian's heart, and bowing him down with prematureold age, and yet she dare not mention the name it would have been arelief for both to utter and to hear spoken.
So the spring passed into summer without any outward change at HayslopeGrange, except a short visit from Mistress Mary Stanhope. At the end ofJune came tidings of a battle that had been fought a fortnight before atNaseby, in Northamptonshire, where the King's army had been completelydefeated, leaving on the field five thousand prisoners, an immensequantity of war material; and what was worse than all for the Royalists,the King's private cabinet of papers and letters was captured. This newscame from Captain Stanhope, who had himself barely escaped being takenprisoner by Cromwell's Ironsides, and had got back to Oxford withouteven his sword.
This news seemed to affect Master Drury most deeply, and one day hesuddenly announced to Mistress Mabel that he should join the royaltroops and fight for King Charles. The lady looked as if she had notheard aright, and said something about herb tea and going to bed; butMaster Drury silenced her by taking down his sword from where it hungagainst the wall, and ordering one of the servants to fetch hisjack-boots.
MASTER DRURY TAKES DOWN HIS SWORD.]
"Marry, but you are not going to the King now," said Mistress Mabel, inaffright.
"I am going to Oxford," calmly spoke Master Drury; and during theremainder of the day he was occupied in making preparations for hisdeparture.
When Mistress Mabel found her brother was bent upon leaving them, andfully determined to join the army, she suddenly professed to be in greatfear of the Parliament gaining all England, and begged her brother toremain and protect them--have the moat filled at once, and barricadesplaced round the house, for fear of an attack from Cromwell's army; forCromwell's name began to be the more prominent now, although Fairfax wasthe commander-in-chief.
But Master Drury shook his head. "Cromwell will never come into Essex,"he said. "You forget King Charles has the Divine right to this land andits people. He will be the more firmly seated on his throne by-and-byfor these troubles," he added.
Before his departure he spoke to Maud, bidding her come to him at Oxfordif anything happened needing his presence at home. She could ride wellnow, he said, and Cavalier could bring her the whole journey.
Maud looked almost as surprised to hear this as Mistress Mabel had donewhen her brother first announced his intention of joining the army, forshe had never been to Oxford in her life, and travelling was not verysafe even for a man now Prince Rupert's wild troopers were about. Butshe felt thankful for the permission to do this, though at the same timeshe hoped that she should not need it.
Harvest-time was drawing near again now, and Mistress Mabel was morebusy than ever among the maids, and Maud spent all her time between thetwo children and the village. Sometimes Bessie and Bertram went with heron her visits of charity, and one or other occasionally read to DameCoppins from Harry's old Bible, or listened while the old woman toldthem some story of his kindness to her. One day as they were returningfrom a visit to the cottage, they were startled to see a crowd of womengathered round the blacksmith's shed, and Bertram, in his usualimpetuous fashion, ran forward to see what was the matter. Maud wasmounted on Cavalier, and Bessie on her brother's pony, while Bertram,being on foot, managed to edge himself to the front of the little crowd,and presently came running back, crying, "Maud, Maud, the man is dying!somebody has been beating him." Several of the women were coming towardsher by this time, and she sprang from her horse and stepped forward tomeet them.
"Prithee, what is the matter?" she asked, seeing their anxious faces."Is the poor man much hurt?"
"By my faith, I think he's dying; but he says he _must_ get to Oxfordfirst, to deliver up some papers he is bearing to the King," said one ofthe women.
"And what saith the blacksmith to his going on his journey?" asked Maud.
"That he will not live an hour with the wound he has received in hisside. Nought but keeping him quite still, as well as careful dressing,will stanch the bleeding, Martin says, and he knows of such matters."
"Then he must not suffer the poor man to depart," said Maud, in the toneof one accustomed to be obeyed, as she stepped up to the blacksmith. Shespoke loud enough for the stranger to hear, as she had intended; but hefeebly shook his head, while Martin completed the temporary bandaging ofhis wound.
"Marry, stranger, you had better tarry here awhile, for your life willpay for this journey if you do not," said the blacksmith.
"Nay, nay, I must away to Oxford. I have been sore hindered already, andlives more valuable than mine depend upon the speedy delivery of thesepapers;" and as he spoke he attempted to rise, but fell back into theblacksmith's arms with a faint groan.
"He must not undertake this journey," said Maud; and she ordered him tobe carried into a cottage near, saying she would come and speak to himabout the papers as soon as he had somewhat revived. Meanwhile sheordered Martin to look to Cavalier, while the women attended to thestranger; and then she sent Bertram home with Bessie, and a message toMistress Mabel not to be alarmed if she did not come back to the Grangethat night.
By that time the traveller had recovered from the fainting fit, and Maudwent into the cottage. "I am Mistress Maud Harcourt, and Master Drury ofthe Grange is my guardian," she said. "He is at Oxford just now, but ifyou will entrust your despatches to me, I will take them to him there,and he will place them in the hands of those to whom they are direct
ed."
The stranger looked at the young lady's glowing resolute face, and laidhis hands upon the papers "I could trust you," he said, "but will youswear that these shall not pass out of your hands, save to thosedirected to receive them?"
"I swear," said Maud, solemnly.
"It seemeth I must perforce stay here," sighed the man. "Prince Rupert'stroops have chased me miles out of my way, or I should have reachedOxford ere this; and if it were not for the faintness that comes over mewhen I move, I would even now continue my journey."
"I will explain all that," said Maud, "but time presses. Now give me thepapers, for my horse is in readiness, and I would fain depart eremessengers come from Mistress Mabel to hinder me."
It was a large packet, sealed with the seal of the Parliament, that thestranger delivered into her hands, and which she contrived to concealwithin her dress. Then the stranger gave her directions for her journey,for he it seemed was well acquainted with the road; and carefully notingthese in her mind, and looking at her purse to see she had money withher, she took her departure, the villagers scarcely comprehending thatshe was going to Oxford until she was out of sight.
Then it was suggested that one of the lads could have gone instead, anda message came from Mistress Mabel, ordering Maud to return to theGrange at once; but she was some miles on her way by this time, forCavalier was fresh, and inclined for a sharp canter, and Maud kept himat full speed, for the pressure of those papers was a constant reminderthat life or death hung upon their speedy delivery.
Whether it was the life of friend or foe she did not think. Whoever itwas, he was dear to some heart doubtless--dear as Harry was to her, andthat thought was enough to keep down all fatigue, and make her urgeCavalier forward whenever he seemed inclined to lag. It never occurredto her that if Prince Rupert's troops had driven the messenger so farout of the usual route, it would be impossible for her to escape them,neither did she think, even if she knew, the distance she had to travel.Hour after hour she urged her good horse forward, and as it was fine dryweather, the usual muddy, unkept roads were comparatively easy totravel, and she had accomplished a good portion of the journey beforethe evening closed in.
She halted at a little village where the people were in a terriblyfrightened condition on account of the doings of Prince Rupert in theneighbourhood. Some of his followers had fired a farm-house the nightbefore, after carrying off all that they wanted; and the numbers ofpeople--quiet dwellers in lonely houses--or travellers, whom histroopers had wantonly killed, were very numerous, it seemed, and therewas great surprise that Maud should have undertaken such a journey.
Maud felt surprised herself, now that something of the excitement wasover; she felt stiff and tired, too, with her long ride; and now thesetales about Prince Rupert made her shudder with fear as she knelt downin the little strange bedroom to thank God for His mercy, and ask it toofor Harry if he was still in this world. She prayed too that she mightbe kept through the remainder of her journey--that Prince Rupert mightbe kept from her road, and nothing be allowed to hinder her fromreaching Oxford in time to save the lives of these unknown prisoners.
Then she laid down, and in total forgetfulness of Prince Rupert and hisbrutal troopers went to sleep, not waking until the morning, when sherecommenced her journey in renewed hope, and with a calm trust in God'sprotecting care.