Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

estimate of hisvirtues; on the quality he holdeth of God's servant; on the likenessof Christ stamped on his soul, and each day exemplified in his mannerof living, that albeit to lose his love or his company in this worldshould be like the uprooting of all happiness and turning thebrightness of noonday to the darkness of the night, it should athousand times rather endure this mishap than that the least shade orapproach of a stain should alter the unsullied opinion till then heldof his perfections?"

  Mr. Roper smiled, and said that was a too weighty question to answerat once; for he should be loth to condemn or yet altogether to absolvefrom some degree of overweeningness such an affection as I described,which did seem indeed to savor somewhat of excess; but yet if noble inits uses and held in subjection to the higher claims of the Creator,whose perfections the creature doth at best only imperfectly mirror,it might be commendable and a means of attaining ourselves to the likevirtues we doated on in another.

  As he did utter these words a servant came into the parlor, andwhispered in mine ear:

  "Master Basil Rookwood is outside the door, and craves--"

  I suffered him not to finish his speech, but bounded into the hall,where Basil was indeed standing with a traveller's cloak on him, and aslouched hat over his face. After such a greeting as may be conceived(alas, all greetings then did seem to combine strange admixtures ofjoy and pain!), I led him into the parlor, where Mr. Roper in his turnreceived him with fatherly words of kindness mixed with amazement athis return.

  "And whence," he exclaimed, "so sudden a coming, my good Basil?Verily, you do appear to have descended from the skies!"

  Basil looked at me and replied: "I heard in Paris, Mr. Roper, that agentleman in whom I do take a very lively interest, one Mr. Tunstall,was in prison at London; and I bethought me I could be of some serviceto him by coming over at this time."

  "O Basil," I cried, "do you then know he is my father?"

  "Yea," he joyfully answered, "and I am right glad you do know it also,for then there is no occasion for any feigning, which, albeit I denyit not to be sometimes useful and necessary, doth so ill agree with mybluntness, that it keepeth me in constant fear of stumbling in myspeech. I was in a manner forced to come over secretly; because if SirHenry Stafford, who willeth me to remain abroad till I have gotout of my wardship, should hear of my being in London, and gain scentof the object of my coming, he should have dealt in all sorts of waysto send me out of it. But, prithee, dearest love, is Mrs. Ward in thishouse?"

  "Alas!" I said, "she is gone hence. Her mind is set on a verydangerous enterprise."

  "I know it," he saith (at which word my heart began to sink); "but,verily, I see not much danger to be in it; and methinks if we dosucceed in carrying off your good father and that other priestto-night in the ingenious manner she hath devised, it will be the bestnight's work done by good heads, good arms, and good oars which can bethought of."

  "Oh, then," I exclaimed, "it is even as I feared, and you, Basil, haveengaged in this rash enterprise. O woe the day you came to London, andmet with that boatman!"

  "Constance," he said reproachfully, "should it be a woful day to theethe one on which, even at some great risk, which I deny doth exist inthis instance, I should aid in thy father's rescue?"

  "Oh, but, my dear Basil," I cried, "he doth altogether refuse to stirin this matter. I have had speech with him to-day, and he will by nomeans attempt to escape again from prison. He hath done it once forthe sake of a soul in jeopardy; but only to save his life, he isresolved not to involve others in peril of theirs. And oh, howconfirmed he would be in his purpose if he knew who it was who doththrow himself into so great a risk! I' faith, I cannot and will notsuffer it!" I exclaimed impetuously, for the sudden joy of hispresence, the sight of his beloved countenance, lighted up with aninexpressible look of love and kindness, more beautiful than my poorwords can describe, worked in me a rebellion against the thought ofmore suffering, further parting, greater fears than I had hithertosustained.

  He said, "He could wish my father had been otherwise disposed, for tohave aided in his escape should have been to him the greatest joy hecould think of; but that having promised likewise to assist in Mr.Watson's flight, he would never fail to do so, if he was to die forit."

  "'Tis very easy," I cried, "to speak of dying, Basil, nor do I doubtthat to one of your courage and faith the doing of it should havenothing very terrible in it. But I pray you remember that that life,which you make so little account of, is not now yours alone to disposeof as you list. Mine, dear Basil, is wrapped up with it; for if I loseyou, I care not to live, or what becomes of me, any more."

  Mr. Roper said he should think on it well before he made this venture;for, as I had truly urged, I had a right over him now, and he shouldnot dispose of himself as one wholly free might do.

  "Dear sir," quoth he in answer, "my sweet Constance and you also mightperhaps have prevailed with me some hours ago to forego thisintention, before I had given a promise to Mr. Hodgson's boatman, andthrough him to Mistress Ward and Mr. Watson; I should then have beenfree to refuse my assistance if I had listed; and albeit methinks inso doing I should have played a pitiful part, none could justly havecondemned me. But I am assured neither her great heart nor yourhonorable spirit would desire me so much as to place in doubt thefulfilment of a promise wherein the safety of a man, and he one ofGod's priests, is concerned. I pray thee, sweetheart, say thou wouldstnot have me do it."

  Alas! this was the second time that day my poor heart had been calledupon to raise itself higher than nature can afford to reach. But thepresent struggle was harder than the first. My father had long been tome as a distant angel, severed from my daily life and any future hopein this world. His was an expectant martyrdom, an exile from his truehome, a daily dying on earth, tending but to one desired end.Nature could be more easily reconciled in the one case than in theother to thoughts of parting. Basil was my all, my second self, mysole treasure,--the prop on which rested youth's hopes, earth's joys,life's sole comfort; and chance (as it seemed, and men would havecalled it), not a determined seeking, had thrust on him this danger,and I must needs see him plunged into it, and not so much as say aword to stay him or prevent it. . . . . I was striving to constrain mylips to utter the words my rebelling heart disavowed, and he kneelingbefore me, with his dear eyes fixed on mine, awaiting my consent, whena loud noise of laughter in the hall caused us both to start up, andthen the door was thrown open, and Kate and Polly ran into the room sogaily attired, the one in a yellow and the other in a crimson gownbedecked with lace and jewels, that nothing finer could be seen.

  "Lackaday!" Polly cried, when she perceived Basil; "who have we here?I scarce can credit mine eyes! Why, Sir Lover, methought you were inFrance. By what magic come you here? Mr. Roper, your humble servant.'Tis like you did not expect so much good company to-night, Con, foryou have but one poor candle or two to light up this dingy room, and Ifear there will not be light enough for these gentlemen to see ourfine dresses, which we do wear for the first time at Mrs. Yates'shouse this evening."

  "I thought you were both in the country," I said, striving to disguisehow much their coming did discompose me.

  "Methinks," answered Polly, laughing, "your wish was father to thatthought, Con, and that you desired to have the company of this finegentleman to yourself alone, and Mr. Roper's also, and no one else forto disturb you. But, in good sooth, we were both at Mr. Benham's seatin Berkshire when we heard of this good entertainment at so great afriend's house, and so prevailed on our lords and governors for tohire a coach and bring us to London for one night. We lie at Kate'shouse, and she and I have supped on a cold capon and a veal pie webrought with us, and Sir Ralph and Mr. Lacy do sup at a tavern in theStrand, and shall fetch us here when it shall be convenient to them tocarry us to this grand ball, which I would not have missed, no, notfor all the world. So I pray you let us be merry till they do come,and pass the time pleasantly."

  "Ay," said Kate, in a lamentable voice, "you would force me to dressand go abr
oad, when I would sooner be at home; for John's stomach isdisordered, and baby doth cut her teeth, and he pulled at my ribbonsand said I should not leave him; and beshrew me if I would have doneso, but for your overpersuading me. But you are always so absolute! Iwonder you love not more to stay at home, Polly."

  Basil smiled with a better heart than I could do, and said he wouldpromise her John should sleep never the less well for her absence, andshe should find baby's tooth through on the morrow; and sitting downby her side, talked to her of her children with a kindliness whichnever did forsake him. Mr. Roper set himself to converse with Polly; Iween for to shield me from the torrent of her words, which,