John Deane of Nottingham Part 8

"You mean to say, you would like to pay another visit to Harwood Grange," said Pearson, with a laugh. "Well, to my mind, you will serve your own purpose better if you carry out Mr Harwood's wishes. In a few months probably the matter will be forgotten, and in the mean time you can see something of the world. A trip over to the Continent would be of interest."

"But I have engaged to accompany Brinsmead to Norwich," observed Jack; "and I have several commissions of importance to execute there for Mr Strelley. I must not neglect them."

"No need for you to do so," answered Pearson. "Go on to Norwich, as you purpose, and I will meet you in a week's time at Saint Faith's. I have agreed to wait there for a party of Highland drovers, who are on their way south with some large herds of lean beasts, for the purpose of getting flesh put upon them in the Lincolns.h.i.+re fens. What do you say to this plan?"

"I will think it over," said Jack. "I would rather go back to Nottingham and meet the charge like a man. If a fine would get me off, I would sell every thing I possess; though I have no fancy for the pillory, I will confess."

"You would run a great risk of the pillory, let me tell you," observed Pearson; "so I would advise you to carry out the plan I proposed; I think our reverend friend here will give you the same advice."

"Indeed would I, my son," observed the minister; "and though by it you have made yourself amenable to the laws, I cannot see that you are called upon of your own free will to expiate your offence by undergoing the punishment that would await you. I propose to accompany Master Pearson, and may be I shall be able to give you such counsel and advice as will keep you in future from committing such follies and transgressions. These are bad times we live in. Our ancient customs are being overthrown daily, and no man can say where it will all end."

"I thought that most people were pretty well contented now that King William is firmly seated on the throne, and that great improvements are taking place throughout the country in all directions," observed Jack, repeating the remarks he had often heard made by his father, Dr Deane, the Wors.h.i.+pful Mr Pinkstone, and others.

The minister sighed.

"What some call improvements others may look upon in a very different light," he observed; "but we will talk of these things by and by, my young friend; perhaps matters which you now see in one light, you may then see in another."

It is scarcely necessary to repeat the conversation which took place.

Jack was excessively puzzled with many of the remarks made by his companions, especially by the divinity student, who seemed to have notions very different to those held in general by Puritan divines. He was evidently a shrewd man, with cunning, piercing eyes, and sharp features, professing to care very little for the good things of life.

It appeared that he was to remain at the house where they then were, for Master Pearson wished him good night, and, telling him that he would return anon, invited Jack to accompany him into Cambridge, where he would endeavour to find out the Cat and Whistle, the sign of the hostelry at which Brinsmead and his drovers had put up.

"No necessity to tell old Will what we have been talking about,"

observed Pearson; "especially that poaching matter, for instance. Tell him that you have received instructions to part company with him at Saint Faith's; and if you render exact account of all your transactions, and give him up any money you may have received belonging to Mr Strelley, he can have no cause of complaint."

Pearson accompanied Deane to the entrance of the inn, where, shaking him warmly by the hand, he said, "Remember Saint Faith's; for your own sake keep to your present intention."

Jack followed Pearson's advice with regard to the account he gave of the cause of his absence. Old Will fixed his keen grey eyes upon him; and Jack could not help feeling that he looked at him with suspicion.

"It's always that Master Pearson!" observed old Will; "I should like to have a few words with him myself. I don't like these strangers who come dodging our steps and turning up in all manner of places. I have an idea, Master Jack, that he has been using you as a pump, to get up through you what information he can about our business. Now, Jack, if you have been communicative to him, you have acted like a fool, and, more than that, have done very wrong. A wise man should keep all his own affairs to himself; and still closer should he keep his master's affairs. They are not his property, remember; and he who talks about them is giving away what is not his own, and that no honest man will do."

"You are hard upon me, Master Brinsmead!" said Jack. "I am not conscious of having said any thing about Mr Strelley's affairs to Pearson, or to any one else. I have committed faults in my time, that I know, and am very likely to have to pay the penalty--I rather hope I may--but I have never acted dishonourably to any one who has trusted me."

Jack, though he spoke thus, was not altogether comfortable in his mind.

That night's fis.h.i.+ng expedition, and many others of a similar character, which he was conscious were unlawful, rose up before him. Besides, he felt he had spoken more freely to Master Pearson than he ought to have done, though he had not, that he was aware of, communicated any information which might prove detrimental to the interests of his employer. For the first time in his life, perhaps, he had little inclination for supper, while his dreams were far from being of a pleasant character.

The next day he and Brinsmead, with all their party, had an abundance of work to get through. One of the company of pack-horses had to be laden with wool and sent off to Nottingham, while another was got ready to proceed to Norwich. Brinsmead and Jack were to accompany the latter.

The wool for Norwich was to supply with material the worsted manufacture carried on in that town. It had long been noted for it, having been introduced by the Flemings as early as the twelfth century; and it was followed up in latter years by that of Sayes arras and bombasins.

Gauzes and c.r.a.pes had of late years been introduced by the French Huguenot refugees, to whom every encouragement was wisely afforded to set up their looms and other machines.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

JACK'S VISIT TO MR GOURNAY--THE STORY OF MADAME LE MERTENS.

Evening was drawing on when Brinsmead and Jack saw the towers of the numerous churches which Norwich possessed, each situated on its own peculiar mound or hill. On entering the town, they proceeded through its narrow and winding streets to the Bear Inn, which Brinsmead usually frequented.

"There is time to present your letters this evening," he observed to Jack. "When there's business to be done there's nothing like doing it immediately. It's provoking to find when you have delayed that the person whom you wished to meet has left the town the morning after your arrival, when you might have found him had you gone to his abode immediately."

Jack, nothing loath, prepared himself to call upon Mr Gournay. He liked old Brinsmead very well in his way; but could not help sighing for more refined society than his late companions afforded. He therefore put on his Sunday suit, and made himself as presentable as possible. He had no difficulty in finding his way to Mr Gournay's handsome and substantial residence, it being one of the princ.i.p.al mansions in the place. The great merchant himself was out; but he was admitted into the presence of the mistress of the family, who received him with a sweet and matronly grace. She wore her soft brown hair without the addition of any false curls, a rich grey silk gown woven by the Huguenot weavers in Spitalfields, a Norwich-c.r.a.pe shawl, and fine Flemish cambric in her cap, neckerchief, and ruffles. Although it was the custom for ladies of rank to wear rouge as thick as paste, she wore none. She made many inquiries after her esteemed friends Mr and Mrs Strelley, as well as Jack's father and mother, and invited him to remain for their evening meal, which was to be served as soon as Mr Gournay and the other gentlemen inmates of their family returned. While they were speaking four young boys came into the room, whom Mrs Gournay introduced as her sons. They were followed by a tall and graceful lady in deep mourning, no longer young, but bearing traces of considerable beauty.

"I must make you known to my friend and inmate Madame de Mertens," said Mrs Gournay. "She speaks English perfectly, having resided with us for some years, since she was compelled by the Popish Government of France to quit her native country."

"Ah, yes; and I have found a happy and quiet home here," said the lady.

"If those I have lost could be restored to me, I would willingly abandon all hopes of regaining the fortune and estate I once enjoyed. Ah, Monsieur Deane," she exclaimed, after some further conversation had pa.s.sed between them, "how can any English people regret their Popish king? I am told that even now among your n.o.blest families there are some ready to risk life and fortune to bring him back! See what ours has done for us! Think of the atrocities of his barbarous dragoons in our Protestant districts--peaceful homes given up to pillage, to fire, and the sword. The best of our pastors flogged, and tortured in other ways, imprisoned in loathsome dungeons--what do I say? worse, oh, worse than all! the horrors of the galleys reserved for the n.o.blest and best, for such as my own dear husband Eugene, who, if he still lives, may yet be labouring at the oar, among slaves and outcasts of all nations! Oh, may heaven in mercy rescue him from such an existence!"

She ceased, for her feeling, roused by the recollection of the terrible scenes she had gone through, overcame her power of speech. She hid her face for some moments in her hands!

"I should not have ventured to speak on this subject," she said, when she again looked up. "My husband was Dutch, of an old family; but when he married me he became naturalised as a Frenchman. For a few years after our marriage we lived a life of tranquillity and happiness in a chateau which I had inherited, removed from the turmoil of the world and political strife. We had one only child, a fair-haired, blue-eyed little damsel, with bright rosy cheeks and a happy, joyous smile on her countenance. At length, however, fearful troubles broke upon us on the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, just ten years ago. It was a time fatal to Protestants who ventured to remain in the country. Many of the best and n.o.blest in the land fled from persecution. Some effected their escape, but many were overtaken, and were executed, or are still groaning in prisons, or, like my dear husband, in the galleys. My dear sister and her husband had come to reside with us, hoping that in our secluded abode they would escape observation. Her health was delicate, and on that fatal night when the dragoons burst into our house and carried off my brother-in-law, so greatly was she affected that her spirits gave way, and in a few days afterwards she sank to rest from this troubled world. My brother-in-law was heart-broken at the loss of his wife. He little knew how soon he was to follow her! My husband was absent from the house, when one evening I received notice that some officers of justice, as they were called, were approaching, in search of Protestants. I had just time to s.n.a.t.c.h up my little Elise, and to hurry off to the woods, where, in a hut which had been prepared by a faithful attendant, and known only to him, we were able to conceal ourselves. My dear husband, not aware of the personages who had possession of our house, returned late in the evening, having missed those who were on the watch to give him notice of what had occurred. He was instantly seized, and carried off for trial before the Government officials, who had been sent to the neighbourhood for that purpose. He, like a faithful servant of our blessed Master, refused to deny Him, or to acknowledge the truth of any of the dogmas of Rome. He was accordingly condemned to the galleys, a fearful fate! He was immediately marched off with many others, condemned for the same crime, to one of the naval ports; but from that day to this I have had no tidings of him, and if he has survived the hards.h.i.+ps he has had to undergo, he is still labouring at the oar in one of those dreadful s.h.i.+ps, enduring the worst kind of slavery, for life alone will terminate it. My poor brother-in-law was also captured, and refusing to recant, he was treated, being a Frenchman, even more severely than my husband, for he was first tortured; still holding out, the barbarians placed him on the cruel wheel, where, while still alive, his bones were broken, and he, as did many other faithful Protestants, expired, though in fearful torments, still crying to their Lord and Master, and acknowledging His love and the efficacy of the perfect sacrifice He offered for them. Our faithful Pierre, the steward of our estate, having collected all the jewels and other property which he could find, brought them to me and urged me on no account to return to the chateau, being sure that both Elise and I should be sacrificed to the fury of our enemies. Having friends in England, I resolved forthwith to escape to this country. I will not trouble you with my various adventures as I endeavoured to make my way with little Elise in my arms to the sea-coast. The poor people in the villages through which I pa.s.sed, compa.s.sionating me and my little girl, gave us all the a.s.sistance in their power. Often some honest farmer, though at considerable risk to himself, would drive me some distance, concealed in his waggon, in the direction I wished to go. Thus I at length reached the neighbourhood of the north coast, where I hoped to find a vessel which would convey me to the sh.o.r.es of England. I had already gained the beach, when in consequence of the waves breaking on the sh.o.r.e, there was great difficulty in embarking. Fearing that Elise might receive some harm should I attempt to hold her while getting into the boat, I committed her to the charge of a seaman, an officer he seemed of some sort, who told me he was going off with us. A considerable number of other people were about to embark in the same vessel, and were crowding down to the edge of the water, when there was a cry that the dragoons were advancing towards us. I in vain attempted to reach the boat. Other people were crowding in, and the seamen, afraid that some accident would happen from her being overloaded, shoved her off into deep water. In vain I entreated that Elise might be restored to me, or that I might be taken on board.

"'The dragoons! the dragoons!' shouted the people all around me.

"'Come, madame, this is no place for you!' I heard a person say close to me. He seized my arm, and almost dragged me along the beach. 'I know of a place near here where you can be concealed,' he said. 'I will conduct you to it; there is no time to lose.'

"Again I entreated him to look for Elise.

"'That will be useless,' he answered: 'she is in G.o.d's hands, and He will preserve her! You can do nothing now.'

"He forced me on; and I could not indeed help feeling the justice of his remarks.

"a.s.sisted on by him we reached some rocks, amid which he worked his way, even though it was dark, showing that he was well acquainted with the spot. After going on for some time longer, I found that we were in front of a small cave.

"'Go in there,' he said, in a low voice. 'It is large enough to contain many people; and I have stored it with food for such an emergency as this.'

"The stranger then told me that he was the Protestant pastor of the neighbouring district, and that, though compelled to quit his church, he still ministered in secret among his former flock, who supplied him with food, and warned him of the approach of danger. He had devoted himself to a.s.sisting those Protestants who, less fortunate than himself, came to that part of the coast.

"'I am aware,' he said, 'that at any moment I may be discovered; and yet I feel that I am called to this work. G.o.d in His mercy has thought fit to preserve me from the hands of my persecutors!'

"Supplied with food and other necessaries by this brave and good man, I remained for several days in the cave. He had a sad account to give me of the fate of most of the fugitives who had been unable to get on board the vessel. Some were cruelly sabred by the dragoons, even though crying for quarter. Others--men, women (young and old), and children-- were lifted up on their horses, and carried off at full speed to the neighbouring town, where they were thrown into the dungeons already crowded with prisoners.

"At length the good pastor considered it safe to conduct me to a lonely farm-house, where he told me I must remain till he could arrange for my pa.s.sage to England. I longed to go, in the hopes of recovering my dear little Elise. Nearly a month pa.s.sed before he was able to make the desired arrangements. I wished to pay the good people with whom I had lived, but they would receive no remuneration, and insisted on carrying me in a cart to the beach, where the boat was ready to receive me. A gale came on soon after we were at sea, and we were driven up the Channel till we were off the town of Yarmouth, where at length I landed.

Some co-religionists of the good Mr Gournay, living in that town, hearing of my arrival, received me in their house; and from thence I came on to Norwich, where I have ever since resided. In vain I have made inquiries for my dear little Elise, greatly helped by my kind friends in this house, but no news have I received of her. You, I am told, Monsieur Deane, are likely to be constantly moving about the country, and it is possible that you may thus hear of the little girl, should she have escaped."

"But she must have greatly grown since the time you speak of," observed Deane: "it was fully ten years ago, was it not?"

"Ah, yes--yes!" answered Madame de Mertens; "but she cannot be so changed that I should not know her; and you may hear, among the Huguenot families, of a little orphan girl, though, I fear, alas! that there are many, many such. I will show her picture to you as I conceive her to be, and that perhaps may help you. I have drawn it often and often; for my great delight is to think of the little girl, and of my dear husband also. You would not know him though, I fear, if he survives, so greatly changed must he be by the hards.h.i.+ps and barbarities he has gone through.

Compared to his, my own fate has been fortunate, thanks to the generosity of my kind friends in this house, and to others. I have also been able to support myself by teaching, and have even had it in my power to help others of my countrymen who required a.s.sistance; but still the picture of my dear husband, in that dreadful slave-s.h.i.+p, is constantly coming before me; and often and often I think of my beloved child, thrown among strangers, who may too probably be of an inferior cla.s.s, unable to give her instruction, or perhaps Papists, who will bring her up in a faith so contrary to that for which her father died, and those who love her suffered!"

Jack, much interested in what he heard, promised faithfully to lose no opportunity of making inquiries for the little Elise, who, however, by that time must have been fifteen years of age--a fact which her mother, when first describing her, seemed to have overlooked.

When Jack afterwards told Brinsmead of the commission he had undertaken, the old man smiled somewhat grimly, as was his wont when he smiled at all, saying, "I am afraid it will be something like looking for a needle in a stack of hay, but at the same time the needle may be found, so I do not tell you not to do your best to execute the poor lady's wishes."

Madame de Mertens had just brought her history to a conclusion when Mr Gournay, accompanied by Giles Dainsforth, entered the room.

"Friend Deane, I am truly glad to see thee," he said, taking Deane by the hand. "I have heard of thee from friend Dainsforth here, and of thy family, and I trust that anon we shall become better acquainted. Thou hast an honest face, and if thou art diligent in business, thou art sure to gain the competency which is all that a man need desire in this life, and albeit its wealth flows in on some, by G.o.d's providence; remember, shouldst thou ever possess it, that wealth may prove a snare and temptation to thee, even as great as want and poverty is to some men.

Thou wilt have need of prayer for guidance, even as much as thou hast at present, for the devil is ever going about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour; and the rich man may prove as dainty a morsel to him as the poor one--but above all does he delight in feeding upon those who have a name to lose, those who are ensigns and leaders in their church, elders and deacons, and such like. However, thou hast been journeying all day, and I will not speak to thee more of this subject at present, so come with us that thou mayst recruit thine inner man."

Saying this, the hospitable and generous Quaker led the way to his handsome parlour. Though his own dress was simple--for he had abjured ruffles and periwig, and wore neither sword, nor lace on his cloak, nor clocks to his stockings--yet it was of the best material, and in no way different in form from that of other wealthy merchants and commoners, while the apartment into which he ushered his guest was richly furnished, and the table was covered with a handsome service of plate and china.