The Coming of the King

  CHAPTER XV

  MASTER STURGEON, THE GAOLER

  Master Sturgeon had walked but a few steps when I came to his side.

  "I am a stranger in Bedford, Master Sturgeon," I said, "therefore thecompany of such a well-known man as yourself is of great interest to me,and if I may, I will e'en walk a little way with you."

  "Ah, it is you, Master Stranger?" he made answer, "and you have seenthat I am a man of no mean import in the town? Ah, well, you are a youthof great penetration."

  "Every one here seems to know you," I said.

  "How can it be otherwise?" he said, with half-drunken gravity. "Am I notthe father of the town? It is true that many would say that MasterLeslie is of greater importance than I, because he is a justice, andbecause he comes of an old family. But what of that? I am here alwaysand he is only here sometimes. And besides--will not this drag him down,and lift me up? He will say, of course, that Sir Charles Denman eggedher on, and not he: that may be true; but why was she on her way toGoodlands, which is the name of Master Leslie's house? You see, she washardly ever seen at Bedford. None of the family liked the place. MasterLeslie came sometimes, and crowed it over people who have made the town,but his wife and children considered themselves too high and mighty tocome."

  "Master Leslie hath other children, then?"

  "Ay, that he hath."

  "How many?"

  "As to that I know not, for, as I have said, he lived much in London,and was great friends with Old Noll. But when he did come here, heshowed what a strong Quaker he was, going sometimes to hear the tinker,and at others to hear Master Gaystone, who is as great a Presbyterian asever lived. Would you mind taking my arm, young master? My head is clearenough, but I seem to see the road rising up before me."

  I took his arm, and continued to ply him with questions, for though hestammered and hiccuped much, he seemed desirous of talking. Moreover, hewas not so drunk but that he understood what he was saying.

  "And Sir Charles Denman. Know you aught of him?"

  "Nay, nothing much. A great friend of Master Leslie's and a bigotedPuritan. A money lover, too, and one, I am told, who is as secret as anoyster. Men have wondered that a maid so young and so fair to look uponshould have married him; but no man can tell what a woman will do."

  "Is she, then, so very beautiful?"

  "Ay, that she is. When I saw her brought into the gaol, I fair started.It seemed impossible that one so young and so fair could attempt tomurder a man. But there it is, no man may say what these Puritans willdo."

  "The king may thank his stars he hath such a zealous officer in thistown of Bedford," I said, trying to play upon his vanity. "It ought tobe made known what a valuable subject he possesseth."

  "Ah, you see that! What I fear is that my part will not be mentioned tohis Majesty. Why, a man hath been knighted for less!"

  "Many's the time," I said; "yet would you believe that, although I wasat Dover when the king landed, and although I heard an officer tell himthat the woman was captured, your name was never once mentioned?"

  "You at Dover! You heard men tell the news to the king!" he cried.

  "Ay, and I spoke to the king," I made answer; "but I left him atCanterbury, for I desired to reach London town quickly, having affairsof importance to transact."

  "And the king spoke to you, young master! Tell me, did the king speak toyou?"

  "Ay, that he did," I replied. "Why not?"

  My news seemed to startle him so that his voice lost some of itsthickness, and I thought he became soberer.

  "I fear I have taken liberties with my betters," he said solemnly.

  "Oh, as to that I take no account," I replied. "It was not for me toblazon it abroad that I had spoken to the king, or to tell them that heasked me if I desired a favour, therefore you would think of me as youwould think of any other traveller coming into the town. Still, I sawthat you were a man of authority, and I desired to speak with you."

  "Tell me, young master," he said eagerly, "hath the king sent you here?Are you here for anything like statecraft?"

  "As to that, Master Sturgeon, young as I am I am old enough to hold mypeace on such matters. Only this I will say: I have a stronger hold onthe king than many whose names are bandied from mouth to mouth, and aword from me will in the time to come weigh much with him."

  "Your name, worshipful master, what might your name be?"

  "As I said before, a man doth not shout his name to the people when hehath important affairs to perform," I replied.

  "If there is aught I can do for you, young master," he said, "say theword, and John Sturgeon is at your command."

  I had measured my man rightly. Vain as a peacock when sober, and a foolin the bargain when his brains were muddled by drink, I saw that I couldwork my will with him if I played my game carefully.

  We were passing by a gloomy building as we spoke, and he noted myinterest in it.

  "The gaol, young master, the gaol. Would you like to see it? To-morrow Iwill be at your service, and I will show you, ay, I will show you thebeauteous daughter of Master John Leslie."

  "To-morrow," I replied slowly: "to-morrow I ought to be far fromBedford, Master Sturgeon; yet methinks the king would be interested toknow that I saw the woman safely guarded. As you said some time ago, hadGeneral Monk been killed, Lambert would have been master, and then Idoubt much if Charles would have been brought back. You say you have noone above you in this gaol, Master Sturgeon? You are the sole masterhere?"

  "Ay, the sole master," he replied with pride. "Any command I make isobeyed. Either in town or county gaol, John Sturgeon is chief man."

  "Then would I visit the gaol, and see this woman before I go to bedto-night," I made answer.

  I saw that my request had startled him. Perhaps doubts came into hismind concerning my request. Perhaps never in his life had he a prisonerof such importance. Mostly the people under his care would be thievingvagrants, or perhaps occasionally some low-browed murderer. This woman,however, made him realize his importance more than ever. She was thedaughter of one of the chief men in the neighbourhood, and theimportance of her capture was not confined to the little town in whichhe lived.

  "I would rather it should be to-morrow if it please you, young master,"he said presently, and I could see that his judgment, muddled as it wasby drink, was still sufficiently clear to know that my request was notunaccompanied by danger to him.

  "I do not think I need trouble you to-morrow," I replied. "If I desireto see the gaol then, it is probable I shall be accompanied by one ofthe justices of the town. But to-night all is quiet, and perchance Imight be enabled to take back a better report to London than if I sawthings under the guidance of a justice."

  "Oh, I will see to it, young master," he said hurriedly.

  "The turnkeys will be either drunk or asleep, but I can open all doors.Come with me. Not but I would rather it had been to-morrow, for the alewas strong, and try as I may I cannot help being sleepy."

  He led the way into the gaol courtyard, a small and--as I plainly saw inthe moonlight--an ill-kept place,--and then proceeded to open the doorwhich led into the building.

  The prison was as silent as death. In the distance I heard the noise ofthose who were still at their carousals, as well as many whom we hadpassed in the streets. Some were singing the songs which had beencomposed about the coming of the king, others were quarrelling, whileothers still were shouting in their drunken revelry; but here all was asstill as death. I saw that Master Sturgeon spoke truly when he said thestrong ale had got into his head. He fumbled much with his keys, and intruth seemed wellnigh asleep.

  "You will speak well of me to the king, young master," I heard himmumble; "ay, and you ought, for there is not in all the realm a morezealous subject of his Majesty. God save the king!"

  "How many gaolers have you here?" I asked, my heart beating fast, fornow that I had once entered the prison the reality of what I was tryingto do came to me with more vividness than ever.

  "How many?" he repl
ied solemnly, "not many; besides, doth not the kingride to London to-day? And have they not been drinking the king'shealth, even as I have?"

  "And is it not right to drink the king's health?" I made answer.

  "Right? ay, that it is. Besides, a sup of ale would make me awake again.Well thought of."

  Without even stopping to lock the door behind him, he made his way to aroom near the entrance, where after much ado, having lit a candle, hefound a jar of ale.

  "Jiggins of _The Bull_ says he brews the best ale in Bedford," he said,"but this is better, this is better;" and he drank a deep draught.

  "Come and let me see the prisoner," I said, for I feared he would soonbe too drunk to render me any service.

  "Plenty of time, plenty of time," he said sleepily. "Let me pull myselftogether a bit. Her door is the second on the right, and the key isthere," and he pointed to a key hanging on the wall. "I don't likeMaster Leslie, he hath never treated me as one man of quality shouldtreat another; but I had to put her in the best cell. Oh, she hath agood bed, and good victuals. For what saith her father? 'Nothing isproved against her yet,' he saith, so I had to be careful. But you'lltell the king, young master. It was because of me that she was taken,and--but that ale is good; I will e'en have another drink."

  A minute after he sat down in an armchair which stood close to the openfireplace.

  "A man may rest in his own room, king or no king," he went on withsleepy gravity. "Besides, am I not the governor? Who dares ask mequestions? Even the justices say, 'Ah, we must leave all things toMaster Sturgeon.' And they may, they may. The king's most trustedservant--that's what I am. Won't you drink, young master? There's nohurry. Her door is close by, and the key is handy. I always see to that.I always have my own keys for my own use. Ah, Master Leslie will soonknow who's master now! The father of Bedford, that's what I am."

  I let him wander on. If he had spoken truly there was no need ofinterruption, for, as some one at _The Bull_ had said, there would befew men in Bedford sober that night. The king had given commands thatthe people should drink his health, and there was no reason to supposethat they were slow in obeying his royal will. I doubted not that thegaolers had made the most of the king's bounty, even as others had, andif so, there was little fear of being disturbed.

  I saw that Master Sturgeon was regarding me in a dazed sort of way, asthough he wondered why I was there, but by this time the liquor had gottoo strong a hold upon his brain for him to think of asking questions.He lay back heavily in his chair, and I saw that he had great difficultyin keeping his film-covered eyes open. A few minutes later he was fastasleep, and I was in Bedford Gaol without a guide to conduct me whitherI would go.

  Taking the key he had indicated from the nail on which it hung, I mademy way out of the room, holding the candle in my hand. But MasterSturgeon paid no heed to me, and to all appearances he would sleep formany hours to come.

  Once outside the door, I carefully turned the key in the lock, and thenI silently walked along the passages, taking care, however, to make nosound. It was seemingly in my power to set at liberty every prisoner inthe gaol, but I thought not of them. All my interest was centred in thewoman whom I had accompanied from Folkestone Town to Pycroft Hall.Indeed, I doubt if there were many prisoners to be liberated, for I hadheard at the inn that all save those who had committed serious crime hadbeen liberated in order to shew forth the king's clemency.

  At the second door I stopped and listened. All was silent as death. Nota sound was heard in the whole dark gloomy building. Even the noise ofthe revellers from the outside did not reach me here. I did not stop toconsider the danger of carrying out the plan that had been born in mymind. I did not consider that if I was caught in the act of seeking toliberate Constance Denman my own liberty would be at stake. I was simplyfilled with an eager desire to look on her face again, to hear hervoice, and to give her liberty. All the fears and doubts which hauntedme through the day troubled me no longer. The madness of thus seekingout a woman of whom I knew so little troubled me not one whit. My heartwas young and warm, and at that moment the desire to find the king'smarriage contract with Lucy Walters was of far less importance to methan to befriend the woman who was accused of trying to murder GeneralMonk.

  As I said, I stopped and listened intently. The candle in my hand castflickering shadows along the gloomy passage in which I stood. The airfelt cold and dead. The silence was unearthly, and only the beating ofmy own heart broke the stillness of the night.

  I did not knock at the door at once. What, I reflected, if MasterSturgeon was not as drunk as he appeared? What if he awoke, anddiscovered that I had locked him in his room? Would he not cry aloud,and arouse some sleepy official, who would be doubtless within call?Loose as had been the discipline in prisons since the coming of the kinghad been proclaimed, there must be still some semblance of orderremaining. I therefore crept back to his door again and listened. Yes,there could be no doubt about it. He was breathing heavily like a manwho would not awake for several hours. I therefore found my way backagain, and listened at the door in which he said the woman wasconfined.

  Yes, there could be no doubt about it, there was a movement within. Iheard the rustle of a woman's dress. I heard some one sighing. Ilistened if possible more silently, and heard a voice, a woman's voice.I will write down what I heard, for although I deem it an ill-judgedact, as a rule, to repeat a woman's prayers, yet because it may shewthat I had reason for believing in the woman's innocence in spite of allthat had been said to her discredit, I will even do so. For the womanwas praying.

  "Great Judge of men," she said, "Thou who art God over all, and hast inall ages been kind to those that trust in Thee, be pleased to deliverme. For I am sorely set about with danger. Thou knowest the thoughts ofmy heart, Thou understandest why I am brought to this condition. Thusbecause Thou understandest all things I come to Thee with confidence. Bepleased to set at nought the cunning devices of men, and even as thedoors of the prison were thrown open to the Apostles of old time, bepleased to open the doors of my prison. But if it is Thy will that Ishould suffer, help me to deport myself even as one who trusts in Thymercy through the merits of Christ, who died for the world."

  At this there was a silence, and after waiting a moment I made a slightnoise at the door, so that she might be prepared for my coming. Then Iput my lips to the keyhole, and spoke. "Be silent and fear not," I saidin a whisper.

  "Who is there?" I heard her say.

  "A friend," I replied, "be not afraid."

  Upon this I put the key in the door, and to my delight it opened wide. Amoment later I stood within the woman's prison house.

  Dim as was the light of the candle, for a moment it dazzled her eyes, sothat she could not see plainly, but ere long she made out who I was, andthen I saw that she was overcome with astonishment.

  "Master Rashcliffe!" she said in a frightened whisper.

  "Yes," I made answer.

  "How came you here?"

  "To deliver you--if I can."

  For a moment she seemed too overwhelmed for further speech, butpresently I saw that she conquered her astonishment, and I thought I sawthat half-angry half-defiant look which I had detected when I firstovertook her on the road outside Folkestone.

  "Do you know you run great danger?" she asked.

  "Perhaps," I replied, for somehow her presence seemed to make me slow ofspeech.

  "Then what led you to enter these walls?"

  "I have told you," I replied.

  "But how could you gain entrance?"

  "Another time I will tell you, but there is no time now. Once outsidethe town I can tell you concerning this and many other matters, but nowyour liberty is my chief concern."

  She looked up into my face as though she would read the story of my lifetherein, and as she did so I was able to see her more plainly than everit had been my lot to do. I saw now what the man at the inn had meantwhen he said she was fair to look upon, for she possessed a beauty suchas I had never seen before. And yet she wa
s different from the beautiesof Charles' Court, concerning whom I had heard my father speak. Hers wasthe beauty of a woman who was as pure as the angels. Concerning thismany may smile, and say that I saw her with the eyes of foolish boyhood.Yet although many years have passed since then, and although many harshjudgments have been formed concerning the deed of which she was accused,I hold fast to what I say. Her eyes had all the innocence of the eyes ofa child. Her face was as free from marks of passion and guilt as werethe faces of which artists dreamt when they painted pictures of theMother of Christ. Nevertheless, hers was not the face of a child. It wasstrong and resolute. There was neither fear nor shrinking in her gaze asshe turned her eyes to my face. Wonder there was, even amounting toastonishment, but there was more. I saw that this woman with such abeauteous face was capable of deeds of daring and sacrifice. That Joanof Arc, the story of whose deeds had so inspired my imagination yearsbefore, was not capable of greater daring than she, and that this womanwould follow the call of God as faithfully as did the Maid of Orleansmore than two hundred years before. Moreover, her presence suggested noweakness. I saw that though barely twenty years of age, she was notweak, nor of delicate appearance. The blood of health coursed throughher veins. Her hands were firm, the light of her eyes burned steadily.Moreover, she was not cast in a small mould, rather she was taller thanmost women, and was perfectly proportioned.

  All this I saw at a glance even although it has taken me some time toset it down on paper, and if I had ever hesitated in my determination tosave her from the doom which awaited her, it had now flown to the winds.For I knew that her life was not worth a silver groat. General Monk haddetermined on her death, and in spite of all talk about the king'sclemency, it was freely said that he would shew no mercy on those whohad aught to do with his father's death. Moreover, as it was given outthat both Sir Charles Denman and Master Leslie were much implicated inthis matter, the woman who was so closely connected with them both couldexpect no mercy.

  "You know the meaning of what I told you when we stood together outsidePycroft Hall," she said quietly. "You know of what I am accused now?"

  "Yes."

  "And you believe it?"

  "I believe nothing unworthy of you."

  "But you have heard of the proofs?"

  "Ay, I have heard; but I know nought of them. They are nothing to me. Ipromised to befriend you, and I have come to fulfil my promise."

  "But can you?"

  "Ay, I can."

  I meant what I said, for at that moment all difficulties appeared asnothing.

  "You can take me outside these prison walls?"

  "Ay."

  "And after that?"

  "After that I know not. Perhaps you have plans in your own mind, but ifyou have not I can save you."

  Perhaps the confident way in which I spoke gave her courage; moreover, Isaw by the flash in her eyes that she comprehended what to many otherwomen would have seemed mysterious. For she was no woman of dullintelligence, but one who thought quickly and to purpose.

  "If I can reach my father's house I am safe," she said.

  "Your father's house? That surely is the first place men will go whenthey hear of your escape from here."

  "Nay, it is not. They will never believe that I should go thither now.If they do, it will not matter; I shall be safe there, and even myfather will not know of my presence."

  "You have trusty servants, and there are secret places at Goodlands," Isaid.

  She gave me a glance which made my heart burn, although I knew not why.

  "But for an accident I should have taken refuge there," she said. "WhileI was at Pycroft it was given out that I had been recognized in theneighbourhood, and endeavours were made to capture me. So I made my wayto Dorking, where I made myself known to those whose business it was totake me. But I escaped from there, leaving no trace behind, and hoped toreach my father's house."

  "But how did you do this?"

  "I have many friends."

  "But why did you make yourself known at Dorking?"

  She looked at me steadily and seemed on the point of speaking; but noword escaped her lips.

  "And did Sir Charles Denman accompany you?" I said.

  "No," she replied, and there was, as I thought, anger in her tones. "No,he did not."

  Why it was I did not know, but I rejoiced at this.

  "And you do not know where he is now?"

  "No, I do not know," she answered.

  She paused a moment, and although it was a joy beyond the telling to bewith her and hear her speak, it came to me that not a moment was to belost if I was to lead her to liberty.