The Coming of the King Part 29

"To whom--G.o.d or man?" he asked quietly.

"To man," I made answer, even before I knew the words had escaped from my lips.

"Ay, to man," he replied; "but he who loves G.o.d will never be a traitor to Him. Nevertheless, may G.o.d grant that the will of man and the will of G.o.d may never be set against each other."

"Do you fear they will?" I asked.

"What say men in London town?" he asked.

"That the king will bring in a new order of things," I made answer, "and that those who favoured his father's death shall be punished."

"Ay, ay," he said slowly. "But what of the Church, young master, what of the Church?"

"It is said that the bishops are already looking forward to the time when schism shall be overcome, and that they are already making preparation for the change. That they are overjoyed that the king is coming back is but to make suggestion of the whole truth."

"Ay, ay," he replied; "but we fight not with carnal weapons; our strength is in the Lord of Hosts. The three Hebrew youths would not fall down and wors.h.i.+p, and they were thrown into the furnace seven times heated, yet did the Lord deliver them. The Apostles were commanded not to preach the Gospel, yet did they preach it, and were thrown into prison; but the Lord opened the prison doors. At present the cloud is no bigger than a man's hand, yet it will darken this land. I can see it plainly, yet must the children of G.o.d bear witness to the truth."

The man spoke like one would think the prophets of old times spoke, so calm and quiet, and yet so full of authority were his tones.

"Methinks, those who call themselves the children of G.o.d fight with other than carnal weapons," I made answer. "If ever there was a man of the sword it was Oliver Cromwell."

"Ay, but he trusted not in the arm of flesh, but in the Lord G.o.d," he made answer, "else would his armies have been but burning stubble in a strong wind. It was the men of G.o.d whom Cromwell selected, who won Marston Moor and Naseby. On the other hand, it was the lies and the base living of Charles and his followers which caused their defeat."

"Ay, but Cromwell is dead, and men have it that a whining, hypocritical crew have taken his place. There have been some Judas Iscariots and traitors at the head of England for many months."

"Ay, and some Monks too," he added, a little bitterly, I thought.

"Ay, and a Puritan woman sought to kill him, and if report speaks truly, she is even now in Bedford Gaol."

I thought I saw him start as I spoke, so being young and foolish, and wis.h.i.+ng to get the better of an argument of which, as I thought, he had the best all the way, I went on--

"Men have it that Master John Leslie, the father of this woman, is a great man among the hot-gospellers and Independents, while Sir Charles Denman, her husband, is almost as much renowned for his preaching as Hugh Peters himself."

For a moment he stopped still in the road, and he lifted his right hand above his head. Even in the dim light I noted his st.u.r.dy thick-set figure, his broad mouth, and his searching, yet kindly eyes.

"Is that what men are saying?" he asked presently, dropping his hand.

"It is common gossip," I replied.

"Men have it that Constance, daughter of John Leslie, together with her husband and father, plotted the murder of Monk, have they? Is that the talk in London town?"

"It is given out by General Monk himself," I replied. "It is told to the new king and his counsellors, and more it hath been proved by many witnesses. The wound in the arm of Monk's secretary is sufficient proof."

He stood still for a minute without speaking, then he said quietly--

"And have you heard aught concerning the probable fate of this maiden?"

"She is to be brought to London without delay after the king hath arrived thither, and then she is to be tried, condemned, and put to death. Men also have it that there is a warrant out against Sir Charles Denman and Master John Leslie."

"Perhaps it is the will of G.o.d," he said, presently. "The blood of the martyr hath ever been the seed of the Church of the living G.o.d."

"Martyr," I said, for something made me feel that this man knew much of these people. "Can the death of a woman who hath attempted murder be called martyrdom?"

I could have almost bitten my tongue for having uttered these words, for although my reason told me they were true, my heart went against them, and accused me of being unjust to the woman to whom I had avowed that she could never do an unworthy deed.

"There be many things known only to G.o.d," he replied solemnly, "and G.o.d's ways are not our ways, neither His thoughts our thoughts, yet will we trust Him though He slay us."

"Know you aught of this woman?" I asked.

"I know what all men know," he answered. "I know that she was on her way to Bedford to visit her father, who is a man of substance in Bedford, as well as in London, and that while coming hither she was taken by the minions of Monk, and dragged to gaol."

"From whence did she come?"

"From the south, somewhere."

"But had she no protector?"

"She had none. She was taken during the night."

"But surely she could not travel from the south on foot."

"Nay, she rode a good horse."

I wanted to ask other questions, but I was afraid, for I knew not who the man was, and I dared not trust him so far as to lead him to think I knew anything concerning her.

"Know you aught of her, young master?"

"I have come from the south," I answered, "and it was said that she had been seen not twenty miles from where the king landed but yesterday."

"Ay, poor child, I fear me that this led her to think she would be safe here. For you are mistaken in believing that a warrant is out against her father. It is not true. It hath been proved that Master Leslie had neither part nor lot in the attempt to murder Monk, and in proof of my words he may be seen in Bedford town, although in sore grief that his daughter is now awaiting such a fearful end."

"But he would have sheltered her, ay, and have sought to hide her, had she reached his house?" I said.

"Did not the early Christians hide each other in Rome?" he asked. "And did not men hide their faithful friends in the time of Mary?"

"But they were innocent?"

"And is not she innocent?"

At this I did not speak, although there seemed but little doubt, as I gathered from the words spoken to the king, that proofs of her guilt were unanswerable.

"Nevertheless," he went on, "although Master John Leslie is a man of station and wealth, he has been much insulted these last three days. Men wag their heads as he pa.s.ses by, especially those who are G.o.dless, and rejoice because they believe the coming of the king will mean G.o.dlessness and licentiousness. Ay, and whatever be the state of things in London, it seems as though the devil is unchained. Drunkenness and vice walk naked and not ashamed, while many who I thought were founded in the faith have joined the hosts of those who love not the Lord."

By this time we had entered the town, and I began to look around me for some inn where I could find fodder for my horse and a supper for myself.

"Stay you long in Bedford, young master?"

"I hope my stay may be brief," I replied. "Will you show me to the best inn the town affords?"