CHAPTER VIII
THE TAKING OF MR. STEWART
They were still sitting over the supper-table at the Hall. The sun hadset about the time they had begun, and the twilight had deepened intodark; but they had not cared to close the shutters as they were to moveso soon. The four candles shone out through the windows, and there stillhung a pale glimmer outside owing to the refraction of light from thewhite stones of the terrace. Beyond on the left there sloped away a highblack wall of impenetrable darkness where the yew hedge stood; over thatwas the starless sky. Sir Nicholas' study was bright with candlelight,and the lace and jewels of Lady Maxwell (for her sister wore none) addeda vague pleasant sense of beauty to Mr. Stewart's mind; for he was onewho often fared coarsely and slept hard. He sighed a little to himself ashe looked out over this shining supper-table past the genial smiling faceof Sir Nicholas to the dark outside; and thought how in less than an hourhe would have left the comfort of this house for the grey road and itshardships again. It was extraordinarily sweet to him (for he was a man oftaste and a natural inclination to luxury) to stay a day or two now andagain at a house like this and mix again with his own equals, instead ofwith the rough company of the village inn, or the curious foreignconspirators with their absence of educated perception and their doubtfulcleanliness. He was a man of domestic instincts and good birth andbreeding, and would have been perfectly at his ease as the master of somehousehold such as this; with a chapel and a library and a pleasant gardenand estate; spending his days in great leisure and good deeds. Andinstead of all this, scarcely by his own choice but by what he would havecalled his vocation, he was partly an exile living from hand to mouth inlodgings and inns, and when he was in his own fatherland, a huntedfugitive lurking about in unattractive disguises. He sighed again once ortwice. There was silence a moment or two.
There sounded one note from the church tower a couple of hundred yardsaway. Lady Maxwell heard it, and looked suddenly up; she scarcely knewwhy, and caught her sister's eyes glancing at her. There was a shade ofuneasiness in them.
"It is thundery to-night," said Sir Nicholas. Mr. Stewart did not speak.Lady Maxwell looked up quickly at him as he sat on her right facing thewindow; and saw an expression of slight disturbance cross his face. Hewas staring out on to the quickly darkening terrace, past Sir Nicholas,who with pursed lips and a little frown was stripping off his grapes fromthe stalk. The look of uneasiness deepened, and the young man half rosefrom his chair, and sat down again.
"What is it, Mr. Stewart?" said Lady Maxwell, and her voice had a ring ofterror in it. Sir Nicholas looked up quickly.
"Eh, eh?"--he began.
The young man rose up and recoiled a step, still staring out.
"I beg your pardon," he said, "but I have just seen several men pass thewindow."
There was a rush of footsteps and a jangle of voices outside in the hall;and as the four rose up from table, looking at one another, there was arattle at the handle outside, the door flew open, and a ruddystrongly-built man stood there, with a slightly apprehensive air, andholding a loaded cane a little ostentatiously in his hand; the faces ofseveral men looked over his shoulder.
Sir Nicholas' ruddy face had paled, his mouth was half open with dismay,and he stared almost unintelligently at the magistrate. Mr. Stewart'shand closed on the handle of a knife that lay beside his plate.
"In the Queen's name," said Mr. Frankland, and looked from the knife tothe young man's white determined face, and down again. A little sobbingbroke from Lady Maxwell.
"It is useless, sir," said the magistrate; "Sir Nicholas, persuade yourguest not to make a useless resistance; we are ten to one; the house hasbeen watched for hours."
Sir Nicholas took a step forward, his mouth closed and opened again. LadyMaxwell took a swift rustling step from behind the table, and threw herarm round the old man's neck. Still none of them spoke.
"Come in," said the magistrate, turning a little. The men outside filedin, to the number of half a dozen, and two or three more were left in thehall. All were armed. Mistress Margaret who had stood up with the rest,sat down again, and rested her head on her hand; apparently completely ather ease.
"I must beg pardon, Lady Maxwell," he went on, "but my duty leaves me nochoice." He turned to the young man, who, on seeing the officers had laidthe knife down again, and now stood, with one hand on the table, ratherpale, but apparently completely self-controlled, looking a littledisdainfully at the magistrate.
Then Sir Nicholas made a great effort; but his face twitched as he spoke,and the hand that he lifted to his wife's arm shook with nervousness, andhis voice was cracked and unnatural.
"Sit down, my dear, sit down.--What is all this?--I do notunderstand.--Mr. Frankland, sir, what do you want of me?--And who are allthese gentlemen?--Won't you sit down, Mr. Frankland and take a glass ofwine. Let me make Mr. Stewart known to you." And he lifted a shaking handas if to introduce them.
The magistrate smiled a little on one side of his mouth.
"It is no use, Sir Nicholas," he said, "this gentleman, I fear, is wellknown to some of us already.--No, no, sir," he cried sharply, "the windowis guarded."
Mr. Stewart, who had looked swiftly and sideways across at the window,faced the magistrate again.
"I do not know what you mean, sir," he said. "It was a lad who passed thewindow."
There was a movement outside in the hall; and the magistrate stepped tothe door.
"Who is there?" he cried out sharply.
There was a scuffle, and a cry of a boy's voice; and a man appeared,holding Anthony by the arm.
Mistress Margaret turned round in her seat; and said in a perfectlynatural voice, "Why, Anthony, my lad!"
There was a murmur from one or two of the men.
"Silence," called out the magistrate. "We will finish the other affairfirst," and he made a motion to hold Anthony for a moment.--"Now then, doany of you men know this gentleman?"
A pursuivant stepped out.
"Mr. Frankland, sir; I know him under two names--Mr. Chapman and Mr.Wode. He is a popish agent. I saw him in the company of Dr. Storey inAntwerp, four months ago."
Mr. Stewart blew out his lips sharply and contemptuously.
"Pooh," he said; and then turned to the man and bowed ironically.
"I congratulate you, my man," he said, in a tone of bitter triumph. "InApril I was in France. Kindly remember this man's words, Mr. Frankland;they will tell in my favour. For I presume you mean to take me."
"I will remember them," said the magistrate.
Mr. Stewart bowed to him; he had completely regained his composure. Thenhe turned to Sir Nicholas and Lady Maxwell, who had been watching in abewildered silence.
"I am exceedingly sorry," he said, "for having brought this annoyance onyou, Lady Maxwell; but these men are so sharp that they see nothing butguilt everywhere. I do not know yet what my crime is. But that can wait.Sir Nicholas, we should have parted anyhow in half an hour. We shall onlysay good-bye here, instead of at the door."
The magistrate smiled again as before; and half put up his hand to hideit.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman; but you need not part from Sir Nicholasyet. I fear, Sir Nicholas, that I shall have to trouble you to come withus."
Lady Maxwell drew a quick hissing breath; her sister got up swiftly andwent to her, as she sat down in Sir Nicholas' chair, still holding theold man's hand.
Sir Nicholas turned to his guest; and his voice broke again and again ashe spoke.
"Mr. Stewart," he said, "I am sorry that any guest of mine should besubject to these insults. However, I am glad that I shall have thepleasure of your company after all. I suppose we ride to East Grinsted,"he added harshly to the magistrate, who bowed to him.--"Then may I havemy servant, sir?"
"Presently," said Mr. Frankland, and then turned to Anthony, who had beenstaring wild-eyed at the scene, "Now who is this?"
A man answered from the rank.
"That is Ma
ster Anthony Norris, sir."
"Ah! and who is Master Anthony Norris? A Papist, too?"
"No, sir," said the man again, "a good Protestant; and the son of Mr.Norris at the Dower House."
"Ah!" said the magistrate again, judicially. "And what might you bewanting here, Master Anthony Norris?"
Anthony explained that he often came up in the evening, and that hewanted nothing. The magistrate eyed him a moment or two.
"Well, I have nothing against you, young gentleman. But I cannot let yougo, till I am safely set out. You might rouse the village. Take him outtill we start," he added to the man who guarded him.
"Come this way, sir," said the officer; and Anthony presently foundhimself sitting on the long oak bench that ran across the western end ofthe hall, at the foot of the stairs, and just opposite the door of SirNicholas' room where he had just witnessed that curious startling scene.
The man who had charge of him stood a little distance off, and did nottrouble him further, and Anthony watched in silence.
The hall was still dark, except for one candle that had been lighted bythe magistrate's party, and it looked sombre and suggestive of tragedy.Floor walls and ceiling were all dark oak, and the corners were full ofshadows. A streak of light came out of the slightly opened door opposite,and a murmur of voices. The rest of the house was quiet; it had all beenarranged and carried out without disturbance.
Anthony had a very fair idea of what was going forward; he knew of coursethat the Catholics were always under suspicion, and now understoodplainly enough from the conversation he had heard that the reddish-hairedyoung man, standing so alert and cheerful by the table in there, hadsomehow precipitated matters. Anthony himself had come up on sometrifling errand, and had run straight into this affair; and now he satand wondered resentfully, with his eyes and ears wide open.
There were men at all the inner doors now; they had slipped in from theouter entrances as soon as word had reached them that the prisoners weresecured, and only a couple were left outside to prevent the alarm beingraised in the village. These inner sentinels stood motionless at the footof the stairs that rose up into the unlighted lobby overhead, at the doorthat led to the inner hall and the servants' quarters, and at those thatled to the cloister wing and the garden respectively.
The murmur of voices went on in the room opposite; and presently a manslipped out and passed through the sentinels to the door leading to thekitchens and pantry; he carried a pike in his hand, and was armed with asteel cap and breast-piece. In a minute he had returned followed by Mr.Boyd, Sir Nicholas' body-servant; the two passed into the study--and amoment later the dark inner hall was full of moving figures and rustlingsand whisperings, as the alarmed servants poured up from downstairs.
Then the study door opened again, and Anthony caught a glimpse of thelighted room; the two ladies with Sir Nicholas and his guest were seatedat table; there was the figure of an armed man behind Mr. Stewart'schair, and another behind Lady Maxwell's; then the door closed again asMr. Boyd with the magistrate and a constable carrying a candle came out.
"This way, sir," said the servant; and the three crossed the hall, andpassing close by Anthony, went up the broad oak staircase that led to theupper rooms. Then the minutes passed away; from upstairs came the noiseof doors opening and shutting, and footsteps passing overhead; from theinner hall the sound of low talking, and a few sobs now and again from afrightened maid; from Sir Nicholas' room all was quiet except once whenMr. Stewart's laugh, high and natural, rang out. Anthony thought of thatstrong brisk face he had seen in the candlelight; and wondered how hecould laugh, with death so imminent--and worse than death; and a warmthof admiration and respect glowed at the lad's heart. The man by Anthonysighed and shifted his feet.
"What is it for?" whispered the lad at last.
"I mustn't speak to you, sir," said the man.
At last the footsteps overhead came to the top of the stairs. Themagistrate's voice called out sharply and impatiently:
"Come along, come along"; and the three, all carrying bags and valisescame downstairs again and crossed the hall. Again the door opened as theywent in, leaving the luggage on the floor; and Anthony caught anotherglimpse of the four still seated round the table; but Sir Nicholas' headwas bowed upon his hands.
Then again the door closed; and there was silence.
Once more it was flung open, and Anthony saw the interior of the roomplainly. The four were standing up, Mr. Stewart was bowing to LadyMaxwell; the magistrate stood close beside him; then a couple of menstepped up to the young man's side as he turned away, and the three cameout into the hall and stood waiting by the little heap of luggage. Mr.Frankland came next, with the man-servant close beside him, and the restof the men behind; and the last closed the door and stood by it. Therewas a dead silence; Anthony sprang to his feet in uncontrollableexcitement. What was happening? Again the door opened, and the men maderoom as Mistress Margaret came out, and the door shut.
She came swiftly across, with her little air of dignity and confidence,towards Anthony, who was standing forward.
"Why, Master Anthony," she said, "dear lad; I did not know they had keptyou," and she took his hand.
"What is it, what is it?" he whispered sharply.
"Hush," she said; and the two stood together in silence.
The moments passed; Anthony could hear the quick thumping beat of his ownheart, and the breathing of Mistress Margaret; but the hall was perfectlyquiet, where the magistrate with the prisoner and his men stood in anirregular dark group with the candle behind them; and no sound came fromthe room beyond.
Then the handle turned, and a crack of light showed; but no furthersound; then the door opened wide, a flood of light poured out and SirNicholas tottered into the hall.
"Margaret, Margaret," he cried. "Where are you? Go to her."
There was a strange moaning sound from the brightly lighted room. The oldlady dropped Anthony's hand and moved swiftly and unfalteringly across,and once more the door closed behind her.
There was a sharp word of command from the magistrate, and the sentriesfrom every door left their posts, and joined the group which, with SirNicholas and his guest and Mr. Boyd in the centre, now passed out throughthe garden door.
The magistrate paused as he saw Anthony standing there alone.
"I can trust you, young gentleman," he said, "not to give the alarm tillwe are gone?"
Anthony nodded, and the magistrate passed briskly out on to the terrace,shutting the door behind him; there was a rush of footsteps and a murmurof voices and the hall was filled with the watching servants.
As the chorus of exclamations and inquiries broke out, Anthony ranstraight through the crowd to the garden door, and on to the terrace.They had gone to the left, he supposed, but he hesitated a moment tolisten; then he heard the stamp of horses' feet and the jingle ofsaddlery, and saw the glare of torches through the yew hedge; and heturned quickly and ran along the terrace, past the flood of light thatpoured out from the supper room, and down the path that led to theside-door opposite the Rectory. It was very dark, and he stumbled once ortwice; then he came to the two or three stairs that led down to the doorin the wall, and turned off among the bushes, creeping on hands and feettill he reached the wall, low on this side, but deep on the other; andlooked over.
The pursuivants with their men had formed a circle round the twoprisoners, who were already mounted and who sat looking about them as theluggage was being strapped to their saddles before and behind; thebridles were lifted forward over the horses' heads, and a couple of theguard held each rein. The groom who had brought round the two horses forMr. Stewart and himself stood white-faced and staring, with his back tothe Rectory wall. The magistrate was just mounting at a little distancehis own horse, which was held by the Rectory boy. Mr. Boyd, it seemed,was to walk with the men. Two or three torches were burning by now, andevery detail was distinct to Anthony, as he crouched among the dry leavesand peered down on to the group just beneath.
S
ir Nicholas' face was turned away from him; but his head was sunk on hisbreast, and he did not stir or lift it as his horse stamped at thestrapping on of the valise Mr. Boyd had packed for him. Mr. Stewart saterect and motionless, and his face as Anthony saw it was confident andfearless.
Then suddenly the door in the Rectory wall opposite was flung open, and afigure in flying black skirts, but hatless, rushed out and through theguard straight up to the old man's knee. There was a shout from the menand a movement to pull him off, but the magistrate who was on his horseand just outside the circle spoke sharply, and the men fell back.
"Oh, Sir Nicholas, Sir Nicholas," sobbed the minister, his face halfburied in the saddle. Anthony saw his shoulders shaking, and his handsclutching at the old man's knee. "Forgive me, forgive me."
There was no answer from Sir Nicholas; he still sat unmoved, his chin onhis breast, as the Rector sobbed and moaned at his stirrup.
"There, there," said the magistrate decidedly, over the heads of theguard, "that is enough, Mr. Dent"; and he made a motion with his hand.
A couple of men took the minister by the shoulders and drew him, stillcrying out to Sir Nicholas, outside the group; and he stood there dazedand groping with his hands. There was a word of command; and the guardmoved off at a sharp walk, with the horses in the centre, and as theyturned, the lad saw in the torchlight the old man's face drawn andwrinkled with sorrow, and great tears running down it.
The Rector leaned against his own wall, with his hands over his face; andAnthony looked at him with growing suspicion and terror as the flare ofthe torches on the trees faded, and the noise of the troop died awayround the corner.