CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
IN COLCHESTER CASTLE.
The whole population of Much Bentley seemed to have turned out towitness the arrest at the Blue Bell. Some were kindly and sympathising,some bitter and full of taunts; but the greater number were simplyinquisitive, neither friendly nor hostile, but gossipping. It was nowfour o'clock, a time at which half the people were up in the village,and many a woman rose an hour earlier than her wont, in order to see thestrange sight. There were the carpenters with baskets of tools slungover their shoulders; the gardeners with rake or hoe; the labourers withtheir spades; the fishermen with their nets.
The Colne oyster-fishery is the oldest of all known fisheries inEngland, and its fame had reached imperial Rome itself, nearly twothousand years ago, when the Emperor Caligula came over to Englandpartly for the purpose of tasting the Colchester oyster. The oystersare taken in the Colne and placed in pits, where they are fattened tillthey reach the size of a silver oyster preserved among the towntreasures. In April or May, when the baby oyster first appears in theriver, it looks like a drop from a tallow candle; but in twenty-fourhours the shell begins to form. The value of the oyster spawn (as thebaby oysters are called) in the river, is reckoned at twenty thousandpounds; and from five to ten thousand pounds' worth of oysters is soldevery year.
"Well, Master Mount, how like you your new pair o' bracelets?" said oneof the fishermen, as William Mount was led out, and his hands tied witha rough cord.
"Friend, I count it honour to bear for my Lord that which He first barefor me," was the meek answer.
"Father Tye 'll never preach a better word than that," said a voice inthe crowd.
Mr Simnel looked up as if to see who spoke.
"Go on with thy work, old cage-maker!" cried another voice. "We'll notfind thee more gaol-birds to-day than what thou hast."
"You'd best hold your saucy tongues," said the nettled Bailiff.
"Nay, be not so tetchy, Master Simnel!" said another. The same personnever seemed to speak twice; a wise precaution, since the speaker wasless likely to be arrested if he did not repeat the offence. "Fiveslices of meat be enough for one man's supper."
This allusion to the number of the prisoners, and the rapacity of theBailiff, was received with laughter by the crowd. The Bailiff's temper,never of the best, was quite beyond control by this time. He relievedit by giving Mount a heavy blow, as he pushed him into line after tyinghis wife to him.
"Hit him back, Father Mount!" cried one of the voices. William Mountshook his head with a smile.
"I'll hit some of you--see if I don't!" responded the incensed Bailiff,who well knew his own unpopularity.
"Hush, fellows!" said an authoritative voice. "Will ye resist theQueen's servants?"
John Thurston and his wife were next tied together, and placed behindthe Mounts, the crowd remaining quiet while this was being done. Thenthey brought Rose Allen, and fastened her, by a cord round her wrists,to the same rope.
"Eh, Lord have mercy on the young maid!" said a woman's voice in acompassionate tone.
"Young witch, rather!" responded a man, roughly.
"Hold thy graceless tongue, Jack Milman!" replied a woman's shrilltones. "Didn't Rose Allen make broth for thee when we were both sick,and go out of a cold winter night a-gathering herbs to ease thy pain?Be shamed to thee, if thou knows what shame is, casting ill words at herin her trouble!"
Just as the prisoners were marched off, another voice hitherto silentseemed to come from the very midst of the crowd. It said,--
"Be ye faithful unto death, and Christ shall give you a crown of life."
"Take that man!" said the Bailiff, stopping.
But the man was not to be found. Nobody knew--at least nobody wouldown--who had uttered those fearless words.
So the prisoners were marched away on the road to Colchester. They wentin at Bothal's Gate, up Bothal Street, and past the Black Friars'monastery to the Castle.
Colchester Castle is one of the oldest castles in England, for it wasbuilt by King Edward the Elder, the son of Alfred the Great. It is alow square mass, with the largest Norman keep, or centre tower, in thecountry. The walls are twelve feet thick, and the whole ground floor,and two of the four towers, are built up perfectly solid from thebottom, that it might be made as strong as possible. It was built withRoman bricks, and the Roman mortar still sticks to some of them.Builders always know Roman mortar, for it is so much harder than anymortar people know how to make now--quite as hard as stone itself. Thechimneys run up through the walls.
The prisoners were marched up to the great entrance gate, on the southside of the Castle. The Bailiff blew his horn, and the porter opened alittle wicket and looked out.
"Give you good-morrow, Master Bailiff. Another batch, I reckon?"
"Ay, another batch, belike. You'll have your dungeons full ere long."
"Oh, we've room enough and to spare!" said the porter with a grin."None so many, yet. Two men fetched in yestereven for breaking folks'heads in a drunken brawl; and two or three debtors; and a lad forthieving, and such; then Master Maynard brought an handful in thismorrow--Moot Hall was getting too full, he said."
"Ay so? who brought he?"
"Oh, Alegar o' Thorpe, and them bits o' children o' his, that should belearning their hornbooks i' school sooner than be here, trow."
"You'd best teach 'em, Tom," suggested Mr Simnel with a grim smile."Now then, in with you!"
And the prisoners were marched into the Castle dungeon.
In the corner of the dungeon sat John Johnson, his Bible on his knee,and beside him, snuggled close to him, Cissy. Little Will was seated onthe floor at his father's feet, playing with some bits of wood. Johnsonlooked up as his friends entered.
"Why, good friends! Shall I say I am glad or sorry to behold you here?"
"Glad," answered William Mount, firmly, "if so we may glorify God."
"I'm glad, I know," said Cissy, jumping from the term, and giving a warmhug to Rose. "I thought God would send somebody. You see, Father wasdown a bit when we came here this morning, and left everybody behind us;but you've come now, and he'll be ever so pleased. It isn't bad, youknow--not bad at all--and then there's Father. But, Rose, what have youdone to your hand? It's tied up."
"Hush, dear! Only hurt it a bit, Cissy. Don't speak of it," said Rosein an undertone; "I don't want mother to see it, or she'll trouble aboutit, maybe. It doesn't hurt much now."
Cissy nodded, with a face which said that she thoroughly entered intoRose's wish for silence.
"Eh dear, dear! that we should have lived to see this day!" criedMargaret Thurston, melting into tears as she sat down in the corner.
"Rose!" said her father suddenly, "thy left hand is bound up. Hast hurtit, maid?"
Rose's eyes, behind her mother's back, said, "Please don't ask meanything about it!" But Alice turned round to look, and she had to ownthe truth.
"Why, maid! That must have been by the closet where I was hid, and Inever heard thee scream," said Margaret.
"Nay, Meg, I screamed not."
"Lack-a-day! how could'st help the same?"
"Didn't it hurt sore, Rose?" asked John Thurston.
"Not nigh so much as you might think," answered Rose, brightly. "At thefirst it caused me some grief; but truly, the more it burned the less ithurt, till at last it was scarce any hurt at all."
"But thou had'st the pot in thine other hand, maid; wherefore not havehit him a good swing therewith?"
"Truly, Meg, I thank God that He held mine hand from any such deed.`The servant of the Lord must not strive.' I should thus havedishonoured my Master."
"Marry, but that may be well enough for angels and such like. _We_dwell in this nether world."
"Rose hath the right," said William Mount. "We may render unto no manrailing for railing. `If we suffer as Christians, happy are we; for theSpirit of glory and of God resteth upon us.' Let us not suffer asmalefactors."
"You say well, nei
ghbour," added John Thurston. "We be called to thedefence of God's truth, but in no wise to defend ourselves."
"Nay, the Lord is the avenger of all that have none other," said Alice."But let me see thine hand, child, maybe I can do thee some ease."
"Under your good leave, Mother, I would rather not unlap it," repliedRose. "Truly, it scarce doth me any hurt now; and I bound it well witha wet rag, that I trow it were better to let it be. It shall do wellenough, I cast no doubt."
She did not want her mother to see how terribly it was burned. And inher heart was a further thought which she would not put into words--Ifthey shortly burn my whole body, what need is there to trouble aboutthis little hurt to my hand?