Robin Tremayne - BestLightNovel.com
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About a fortnight pa.s.sed uneventfully--a rare occurrence in the year 1555. But as it was growing dusk on the 21st of May, there was a quick rap at the door, and Mr Underhill hastily entered.
"Coming from the light, I may scantly see who is here," said he; "but I wish to speak quickly with Mrs Rose--Mrs Thekla, I mean."
Mrs Rose and Isoult were sitting in the little chamber. The latter rose to call Thekla.
"What for Thekla?" asked her mother, earnestly. "Can you not tell me, Mr Underhill? Is there some evil news for me?"
"I knew not you were here till I heard you speak, Mrs Rose," he answered, in the gentle manner in which he always spoke to her. "Well, I suppose you may as well know it first as last. Your husband is ordered to Norwich for examination, and shall set forth this even. He shall pa.s.s the postern in half an hour, and I came to tell Mrs Thekla, if she desired to speak with him, she should come at once with me."
Thekla ran up-stairs to fetch her hood.
"To Norwich!" cried poor Mrs Rose, "what for to Norwich?"
"I know not," said Mr Underhill; "is he Norfolk-born?"
"He was born at Exmouth," she answered; "is Exmouth in Norfolk?"
"Nay, surely," said Isoult; "'tis in Devon, as I well know."
"Then what for Norwich?" she said again. "But, Mr Underhill! you take Thekla--and you take not me?"
"I cannot, Mrs Rose," said he; "your peril--"
"What care I for my peril?" she cried, pa.s.sionately.
"Doth he belong to them? or doth he belong only to Thekla? Let me go, Mr Underhill! He is mine--mine--mine! _Mi alma, mi bien_ [my soul, my own]! I will go, if it be the last sight of him! Who shall let me?"
"Marry, I would, if I could," said Mr Underhill, under his voice. "Mrs Avery, what am I to do?" and he looked helplessly at Isoult.
"Leave me to speak to her, Mr Underhill," she answered. "Dear sister Marguerite, remember Mr Rose is not yet condemned: and there is the shadow of hope that he may not be so. But if they can prove him to have been in your company, that hope will perish. Will you go, knowing that?"
Mrs Rose had knelt down by the table, and buried her head in her hands upon it. She gave no answer save a low, deep moan of unutterable anguish.
"_Seigneur, pour combien de temps regarderas-tu cela_?"
"Go, Mr Underhill," said Isoult, softly. "If I know her, she will not follow."
Mr Underhill hurried Thekla away.
It was an hour before they came back. Mrs Rose had gone up-stairs, and Isoult sat alone in the chimney-corner. She heard the latch lifted, and Mr Underhill's voice bidding Thekla good-night. He was not returning with her. Then her soft step came forward. She paused as soon as she entered the chamber.
"Who is here?" she said, under her breath.
"It is I, Thekla," answered Isoult. "Thy mother is above, dear heart; I am alone."
"I am glad of that."
And she came forward to the hearth, where suddenly she flung herself down on her knees, and buried her face in Isoult's lap.
"I cannot see her just now!" she said in a choked voice. "I must be over mine own agony ere I can bear hers. O Mrs Avery! he is so white, and worn, and aged! I hardly knew him till he smiled on me!"
And laying down her head again, she broke forth into sobbing--such a very pa.s.sion of woe, as Isoult had never heard before from the lips of Thekla Rose. Then in a little while--for she did not check her, only smoothed down her hair lovingly--Thekla lifted her head again, and her first gus.h.i.+ng of pain seemed over.
"The Sheriff was good to me," she whispered. "Mr Underhill said, 'Would it please you of your gentleness, to stay your prisoner five minutes?
Here is his daughter that would speak with him.' And he stayed, and gave us leave to speak--more than five minutes."
She dried her eyes, and smoothed back her hair.
"Now," she said, "I can go to her."
"G.o.d go with you, my poor child!" answered Isoult Thekla paused a moment before she set her foot on the stairs. "I feel," she said, "as if I wanted Him very near to-night."
On Thursday, the 30th of May, Cardmaker and Warne were burned in Smithfield. And on the 10th of June, in the same place, died John Bradford, saying he should have a merry supper with the Lord that night.
Four days afterwards came Austin Bernher.
"How do you all?" asked he.
"Marry, I shall do better when I know whence you come," said poor Mrs Rose, lifting her heavy eyes.
"Then I come from Norwich," saith he, "and, I hope, with good news. Mr Rose hath been examined twice afore the Bishop, the last day of this last month, and the seventh of this, but is not yet sentenced. He is kept in the Green Yard, next the Cathedral; and the charge against him is that he hath held and defended in public that in the Eucharist, or Sacrament of the Altar, the true, natural, and real body of Christ, and the true, natural, and real blood of Christ, under the espece of bread and wine, be not in verity; but that after consecration, the substance of bread and wine remaineth; and that whoso shall adore that substance shall commit idolatry, and shall give Divine honour unto a creature of G.o.d. And then he was asked but one question, 'Whether you will be obedient to the laws of the Catholic Church, whereof the Church of England is a member?' This was in the indictment; but the Bishop talked with him no little, and saith unto him, 'You have preached (quoth he) that the presence of Christ is not in the sacrament. What say you to that?' 'Verily, I say,' Mr Rose answered, 'that you are a b.l.o.o.d.y man, and seek to quench your thirst in the blood of an innocent. I have so preached,' saith he, 'yea, and I will so preach again.'"
"Gramercy!" cried Isoult.
"Ay, he was bold enough," said Austin. "Well, after examination, afore I set forth, come to me my old Lord of Suss.e.x, and that gentle knight Sir William Woodhouse, who told me they meant to see Mr Rose, and to do whatsoever they might in his behalf. And a word in your ear: the Queen is very, very grievous sick. My Lord of Suss.e.x, and other likewise, have told me that the Bishops _dare_ not sentence more heretics. They think Mr Rose shall have a lighter sentence than death--imprisonment it may be. But until they see how the Queen shall fare, they be sore afraid."
"They were not afeard to burn Mr Bradford," suggested Isoult.
"Truth," he answered. "But he, you see, was already sentenced. Mrs Avery, there is one thing I must needs tell you, and I pray you, let me get the same out ere Mrs Thekla come in. I am sore diseased touching Mr Tremayne."
"For Robin!" she cried. "Austin, have they sentenced him?"
"I know not what they have done unto him," saith he, "and that is the very truth. He is no longer in the Marshalsea. They have carried him thence some whither, and I, which am alway rambling up and down the realm, have not yet discovered whither. Trust me, you shall know as soon as I."
Early in the morning, six days afterwards, before all were down, and Isoult herself had but just descended the stairs, there came a hasty rap, and in ran Austin.
"Where is Mrs Rose?" said he. "I have good news for her."
"O Austin! is Mr Rose sentenced?" said Isoult, when she had called Mrs Rose.
"Ay," he answered, "but to no worse than imprisonment in his lodging.
It is as I told you--the Bishops dare not act. And Sir William Woodhouse, being present, maketh offer (under the Bishop's leave) to keep Mr Rose in his house, seeing he had no lodging in Norwich. Whereto the Bishop a.s.sents, but that he should come up when called for. Sir William therefore taketh him away, and at the very next day sendeth him thence. I cannot tell you where: Sir William will tell none. Only this I know; he is to be pa.s.sed secretly from hand to hand, until means be had to convey him over seas. And now my Lord of Norwich is come to London, and shall not be back for nigh a month; in which time Mr Rose may win far enough ere he be bidden.--Why, Mrs Rose! is it matter for weeping?"
"I think it is for weeping, Austin, but not for sorrow," said Isoult.
"One word, Augustine," said Mrs Rose, drying her eyes. "Whither shall they take him over seas?"
"In your ear, then," said he. "To Calais, to Mr Stevens, whence he shall be pa.s.sed again through France, until he reach Geneva."