In Doublet and Hose Part 22

"Open in the name of the queen," came the stern command.

CHAPTER XX

FRANCIS FINDS A HELPER

"It is the pursuivants," cried Francis in consternation. "Good mother, hide me, I entreat. They must not know that I am here."

Then, indeed, was she thankful that she had taken the old woman into her confidence. The beldame arose and with an agility that was surprising in one of her years glided across the room, and opened a small door that was so small, and black, and grimy that it had escaped the girl's attention.

"Enter," whispered the woman. "Enter and fear nothing. They shall not know of thy presence."

Francis pa.s.sed through the entrance and closed the door after her just as the rapping came again with renewed vigor.

"What, ho inside!" came a voice. "Give entrance, whosoe'er ye be, else it will be made by force."

"Now who be ye who would seek admittance to the house of a white witch?"

asked Dame Margery's shrill voice.

"Gramercy! we will show who we be," and there was a sound as of a man pressing against the panels of the door. The dame undid the fastenings and threw open the door. A man who had evidently put his shoulder against it for the purpose of forcing an entrance sprawled his entire length on the floor. With a loud laugh at his discomfiture several other men crowded into the room.

"Marry! what an unmannerly welcome," cried the man picking himself up.

"My good woman, is this the way to receive guests?"

"Be that the way to enter a body's house?" cried the dame. "Ye bean't gentle, surely, else ye would know that an old woman can't move the swiftest when she's bent with the rheums."

"I crave thy pardon, dame," said the leader who was evidently a man of high degree. "I crave thy pardon for such an unceremonious entrance. I thought that no one was within. Give us shelter from the storm and supper. Then must we on our way. We pay for your trouble."

"Well, ye won't get either supper or shelter here. Do ye take this for an inn?" she asked querulously.

"Nay, dame; for then would we find greeting and good cheer," returned the leader good naturedly. "This seemeth more in truth like witch's dwelling.

Whatsoe'er it be here we stay until the storm abates. We are from the queen, woman."

Dame Margery said no more, but began to bestir herself about the supper.

"Some of you see about the horses," commanded the leader, placing himself before the fire.

Two of the men went out and presently returned.

"'Tis a crazy sort of a barn, sir," said one, "but it encloses as good a bit of horseflesh as e'er trod a heath. How now, dame? Where didst thou get so fine a horse?"

"Are there men here other than us?" asked the leader hastily. "If there be we must look to ourselves for we are on the queen's business, and naught must delay us."

"No men, sir," answered Margery.

"The stable is bad, sayst thou, Martin?" with an expression of relief on his face as he heard the dame's reply. "The dwelling, too, is none of the best."

"None asked ye to enter it," said the woman bluntly. "An ye like not mine abode, ye can leave it."

"Hold thy tongue, old beldame!" said the leader imperiously. "Nay;" as the dame flashed an angry glance at him, "be not prodigal of thy looks.

An thou cast the evil eye on me, I'll sheathe my blade in thy flesh. We want no witch's work here."

Margery made no answer, but placed the supper before them. The men fell to, and soon disposed of all that was on the table. Then the leader began to show signs of impatience for the storm had not yet subsided.

"Beshrew me!" he exclaimed to his companions. "I fear that we will be compelled to pa.s.s the night in this vile place. Marry! how it rains!"

"It doth, Master Wainwright," answered one. "But better the storm than pa.s.s the night in the abode of a witch, and if yon dame be not the veriest witch in the kingdom then I ne'er saw one. The house makes me creepy. 'Tis fitting place for some dark deed to be committed. The horse in the stable, I dare say, belonged to some belated traveler caught like ourselves in a storm afar from an inn. Marked you how she answered me not when I spoke on't? How the wind howls, and how blue the taper burns!

'Sblood! I'd sooner be out in the storm."

"I would not," observed Master Wainwright. "One drenching a day is enough for me. Marry! there is naught to do but to possess our souls in patience. I dare say, we will o'ertake the boy on the morrow."

"Marry! yes, master. If he be out in this storm he will drown like a rat.

Who would have thought that he could have kept so far ahead of us?"

"They ride fast who flee from justice," quoth another sententiously. "If we be not careful he will outstrip us, and we will be void of our quarry."

"Be not alarmed. We will o'ertake him," rea.s.sured the leader. "Though I like not for the storm to continue. It delays us too much." He mused for a moment and then turned to the dame suddenly.

"My good woman," he said, "have ye seen aught of a boy to-day?"

"A boy? What boy?" asked she stupidly.

"A boy of the court in page's dress. Hast thou seen him?"

"No boy have I seen this day," answered the dame stolidly. "Marry! nor for many days for the matter of that. What did ye want with the boy?"

"We have a warrant for his arrest," said the leader. "Also one for his father, Lord William Stafford. What think you, my good dame? There has been foul attempt to slay the queen."

"Ye do well to say 'attempt,'" said the woman. "Elizabeth will never die by the hand of an a.s.sa.s.sin."

"Say ye so?" asked the leader eagerly. "Good dame, how will she die?"

"Not in her bed. No hand shall be raised against her, and she dies by misease; yet shall she not die in bed," and the old woman nodded prophetically.

"Ask her how long the queen will live," whispered one. "The queen waxeth in years and it may not be amiss to be prepared."

"Seek no further, sir," said Margery quickly. "Know that thou wilt never live to see the day of her death. Thy time is nigh."

"Now a murrain on thee for that foul prophecy," cried the man starting up, his hand on the hilt of his sword. But Master Wainwright interposed.

"No brawling, sirrah. We are on the queen's business. Thou and thy right arm may be needed ere it be completed. Have done!"

The man sank back. Quiet fell upon them, broken only by the sweep of the rain against the house and the fitful howling of the wind. Night deepened, and still the storm continued. The men disposed themselves about the hearth for their damp clothing made them chilly, and soon one after another fell into slumber, until, after a time, all were asleep.

Then Dame Margery rose to her feet and tiptoeing to the small door opened it, and pa.s.sed out of the room.