It is not to be credited with how great an admixture of pleasure and
pain I do set myself to my daily task of writing, for the thought of
those spring and summer months spent in Lady Tregony's house doth stir
up old feelings, the sweetness of which hath yet some bitterness in
it, which I would fain separate from the memories of that happy time.
Basil had taken up his abode at Euston, whither I so often went and
whence he so often came, that methinks we could both have told (for
mine own part I can yet do it, even after the lapse of so many years)
the shape of each tree, the rising of each bank, the every winding of
the fair river Ouse betwixt one house and the other. Yea, when I now
sit down on the shore, gazing on the far-off sea, bethinking myself it
doth break on the coast of England, I sometimes newly draw on memory's
tablet that old large house, the biggest in all Suffolk, albeit homely
in its exterior and interior plainness, which sitteth in a green
hollow between two graceful swelling hills. Its opposite meadows
starred in the spring-tide with so many daisies and buttercups that
the grass scantily showeth amidst these gay intruders; the ascending
walk, a mile in length, with four rows of ash-trees on each side, the
tender green of which in those early April days mocked the sober tints
of the darksome tufts of fir; and the noble deer underneath the old
oaks, carrying in a stately manner their horned heads, and darting
along the glades with so swift a course that the eye could scarce
follow them. But mostly the little wooden bridge where, when Basil did
fish, I was wont to sit and watch the sport, I said, but verily him,
of whose sight I was somewhat covetous after his long absence. And I
mind me that one day when we were thus seated, he on the margin of the
stream and I leaning against the bridge, we held an argument touching
country diversions, which began in this wise:
"Methinks," I said, "of all disports fishing hath this advantage, that
if one faileth in the success he looketh for, he hath at least a
wholesome walk, a sweet air, a fragrant savor of the mead flowers. He
seeth the young swans, herons, ducks, and many other fowls with their
broods, which is surely better than the noise of hounds, the blast of
horns, and the cries the hunters make. And if it be in part used for
the increasing of the body's health and the solace of the mind, it can
also be advantageously employed for the health of the soul, for it is
not needful in this diversion to have a great many persons with you,
and this solitude doth favor thought and the serving of God by
sometimes repeating devout prayers."
To this Basil replied: "That as there be many men, there be also many
minds; and, for his part, when the woods and fields and skies seemed
in all one loud cry and confusion with the earning of the hounds, the
gallopping of the horses, the hallowing of the huntsmen, and the
excellent echo resounding from the hills and valleys, he did not think
there could be a more delectable pastime or a more tuneable
sound by any degree than this, and specially in that place which is
formed so meet for the purpose. And if he should wish anything, it
would be that it had been the time of year for it, and for me to ride
by his side on a sweet misty mornings to hear this goodly music and to
be recreated with this excellent diversion. And for the matter of
prayers," he added, smiling, "I warrant thee, sweet preacher, that as
wholesome cogitations touching Almighty God and his goodness, and
brief inward thanking of him for good limbs and an easy heart, have
come into my mind on a horse's back with a brave westerly wind blowing
about my head, as in the quiet sitting by a stream listing to the
fowls singing."
"Oh, but Basil," I rejoined, "there are more virtues to be practised
by an angler than by a hunter."
"How prove you that, sweetheart?" he asked.
Then I: "Well, he must be of a well-settled and constant belief to
enjoy the benefit of his expectation. He must be full of love to his
neighbor, that he neither give offence in any particular, nor be
guilty of any general destruction; then he must be exceeding patient,
not chafing in losing the prey when it is almost in hand, or in
breaking his tools, but with pleased sufferance, as I have witnessed
in thyself, amend errors and think mischances instructions to better
carefulness. He must be also full of humble thoughts, not disdaining
to kneel, lie down, or wet his fingers when occasion commands. Then
must he be prudent, apprehending the reasons why the fish will not
bite; and of a thankful nature, showing a large gratefulness for the
least satisfaction."
"Tut, tut," Basil replied, laughing; "thinkest thou no patience be
needful when the dogs do lose the scent, or your horse refuseth to
take a gate; no prudence to forecast which way to turn when the issue
be doubtful; no humility to brook a fall with twenty fellows passing
by a-jeering of you; no thankfulness your head be not broken; no love
of your neighbor for to abstain in the heat of the chase from treading
down his corn, or for to make amends when it be done? Go to, go to,
sweetheart; thou art a dextrous pleader, but hast failed to prove thy
point. Methinks there doth exist greater temptations for to swear or
to quarrel in hunting than in fishing, and, if resisted, more
excellent virtues then observed. One day last year, when I was in
Cheshire, Sir Peter Lee of Lime did invite me to hunt the stag, and
there being a great stag in chase and many gentlemen hot in the
pursuit, the stag took soil, and divers, whereof I was one, alighted
and stood with sword drawn to have a cut at him."
"Oh, the poor stag!" I cried; "I do always sorely grieve for him."
"Well," he continued, "the stags there be wonderfully fierce and
dangerous, which made us youths more eager to be at him. But he
escaped us all; and it was my misfortune to be hindered in my coming
near him, the way being slippery, by a fall which gave occasion to
some which did not know me to speak as if I had failed for fear; which
being told me, I followed the gentleman who first spoke it, intending
for to pick a quarrel with him, and, peradventure, measure my sword
with his, so be his denial and repentance did not appear. But, I thank
God, afore I reached him my purpose had changed, and in its stead I
turned back to pursue the stag, and happened to be the only horseman
in when the dogs set him up at bay; and approaching near him, he broke
through the dogs and ran at me, and took my horse's side with his
horns. Then I quitted my horse, and of a sudden getting behind him,
got on his back and cut his throat with my sword."
"Alack!" I cried, "I do mislike these bloody pastimes, and love not to
think of the violent death of any living creature."
"Well, dear heart," he answered, "I will not make thee sad again by
the mention of the killing of so much as a rat, if it displeaseth
thee. But truly I mislike not to think of that day, for I warrant
thee, in turning back from the pursuit of that injurious gentleman,
somewhat more of virtue did exist than it hath been my hap often to
practice. For, look you, sweet one, to some it doth cause no pain to
forgive an injury which toucheth not their honor, or to plunge into
the sea to fish out a drowning man; but to be styled a coward, and yet
to act as a Christian man should do, not seeking for to be revenged,
why, methinks, there should be a little merit in it."
"Yea," I said, "much in every way; but truly, sir, if your thinking is
just that easy virtue is little or no virtue, I shall be the least
virtuous wife in the world."
Upon this he laughed so loud that I told him he would fright all the
fishes away.
"I' faith, let them go if they list," he cried, and cast away his rod.
Then coming to where I was sitting, he invited me to walk with him
alongside the stream, and then asked me for to explain my last speech.
"Why, Basil," I said, "what, I pray you, should be the duty of a
virtuous wife but to love her husband?"
So then he, catching my meaning, smiled and replied,
"If that duty shall prove easy to thy affectionate heart, I doubt not
but others will arise which shall call for the exercise of more
difficult virtue."
When we came to a sweet nook, where the shade made it too dark for
grass to grow, and only moss yielded a soil carpet for the feet, we
sat down on a shelving slope of broken stones, and I exclaimed,
"Oh, Basil, methinks we shall be too happy in this fair place; and I
do tax myself presently with hardness of heart, that in thy company,
and the forecasting of a blissful time to come, I lose the sense of
recent sorrows."
"God doth yield thee this comfort," he answered, "for to refresh thy
body and strengthen thy soul, which have both been verily sorely
afflicted of late. I ween he doth send us breathing-times with this
merciful intent."
By such discourses as these we entertained ourselves at sundry times;
but some of the sweetest hours we spent were occupied in planning the
future manner of our lives, the good we should strive to do amongst
our poor neighbors, and the sweet exercise of Catholic religion we
should observe.
Foreseeing the frequent concealing of priests in his house, Basil sent
one day for a young carpenter, one Master Owen, who hath since been so
noted for the contriving of hiding-places in all the recusants' houses
in England; and verily what I noticed in him during the days he was at
work at Euston did agree with the great repute of sanctity he hath
since obtained. His so small stature, his trick of silence, his
exceeding recollected and composed manner filled me with admiration;
and Basil told me nothing would serve him, the morning he arrived,
when he found a priest was in the house, but to go to shrift and holy
communion, which was his practice, before ever he set to work at his
good business. I took much pleasure in watching his progress. He
scooped out a cell in the walls of the gallery, contriving a door such
as I remembered at Sherwood Hall, which none could see to open unless
they did know of the spring. All the time he was laboring thereat, I
could discern him to be praying; and when he wot not any to be near
him, sang hymns in a loud and exceeding sweet voice. I have never
observed in any one a more religious behavior than in this youth, who,
by his subtle and ingenious art, hath saved the lives of many priests,
and procured mass to be said in houses where none should have durst
for to say or hear it if a refuge of this kind did not exist, wherein
a man may lie ensconced for years, and none can find him, if he come
not forth himself.
When he was gone, other sort of workmen were called in, for to make
more habitable and convenient a portion of this large house. For in
this the entire consenting of our minds did appear, that neither of us
desired for to spend money on showy improvements, or to inhabit ten
chambers when five should suffice. What one proposed, the other always
liked well; and if in tastes we did sometimes differ, yet no
disagreement ensued. For, albeit Basil cared not as much as I did for
the good ordering of the library, his indulgent kindness did
nevertheless incline him to favor me with a promise that one hundred
fair, commendable books should be added to those his good father had
collected. He said that Hubert should aid us to choose these goodly
volumes, holy treatises, and histories in French and English, if it
liked me, and poetry also. One pleasant chamber he did laughingly
appoint for to be the scholar's room, in the which he should never so
much as show his face, but Hubert and I read and write, if we listed,
our very heads off. The ancient chapel was now a hall; and, save some
carving on the walls which could not be recovered, no traces did
remain of its old use. But at the top-most part of the house, at the
head of a narrow staircase, was a chamber wherein mass was sometimes
said; and since Basil's return, he had procured that each Saturday a
priest should come and spend the night with him, for the convenience
of all the neighboring Catholics who resorted there for to go to their
duty. Lady Tregony and her household--which were mostly Catholic, but
had not the same commodities in her house, where to conceal any one
was more hard, for that it stood almost in the village of Fakenham,
and all comers and goers proved visible to the inhabitants--did repair
on Sundays, at break of day, to Euston. How sweet were those rides in
the fair morning light, the dew bespangling every herb and tree, and
the wild flowers filling the air with their fresh fragrance! The pale
primroses, the azure harebell, the wood-anemone, and the dark-blue
hyacinth--what dainty nosegays they furnished us with for our Blessed
Lady's altar! of which the fairest image I ever beheld stood in the
little secret chapel at Euston. Basil did much affection this image of
Blessed Mary; for as far back as he could remember he had been used to
say his prayers before it; and when his mother died, he being only
seven years of age, he knelt before this so lively representation of
God's Mother, beseeching of her to be a mother to him also; which
prayer methinks verily did take effect, his life having been marked by
singular tokens of her maternal care.
In the Holy Week, which fell that year in the second week of April, he
procured the aid of three priests, and had all the ceremonies
performed which do appertain to that sacred season. On Wednesday,
toward evening began _Tenebrae_, with the mysterious candlestick of
fifteen lights, fourteen of them representing, by the extinguishing of
them, the disciples which forsook Christ; the fifteenth on the top,
which was not put out, his dear Mother, who from the crib to the
cross, was not severed from him. On Thursday we decked the sepulchre
wherein the Blessed Sacrament reposed with flowers and all such jewels
as we possessed, and namely with a very fair diamond cross which Basil
had gifted me with, and reverently attended it day and night. "God
defend," I said to Basil, when the sepulchre was removed, "I should
retain for vain uses what was lent to our Lord yester eve!" and
straightway hung on the cross to our Lady's neck. On Friday we all
crept to the crucifix, and kissing, bathed it with our tears. On
Saturday every fire was extinguished in the house, and kindled again
with hallowed fire. Then ensued the benediction of the paschal candle,
and the rest of the divine ceremonies, till mass. At mass, as soon as
the priest pronounced "Gloria in excelsis," a cloth, contrived by Lady
Tregony and me, and which veiled the altar, made resplendent
with lights and flowers, was suddenly snatched away, and many little
bells we had prepared for that purpose rung, in imitation of what was
done in England in Catholic times, and now in foreign countries. On
Easter Sunday, after mass, a benediction was given to divers sorts of
meat, and, in remembrance of the Lamb sacrificed two days before, a
great proportion of lamb. Nigh one hundred recusants had repaired to
Euston that day for their paschal communion. Basil did invite them all
to break Lent's neck with us, in honor of Christ's joyful
resurrection; and many blessings were showered that day, I ween, on
Master Rookwood, and for his sake, I ween, on Mistress Sherwood also.
The sun did shine that Easter morning with more than usual brightness.
The common people do say it danceth for joy at this glorious tide. For
my part, methought it had a rare youthful brilliancy, more cheering
than hot, more lightsome than dazzling. All nature seemed to rejoice
that Christ was risen; and pastoral art had devised arches of flowers
and gay wreaths hanging from pole to pole and gladdening every
thicket.
Verily, if the sun danced in the sky, my poor heart danced in my
bosom. At Basil's wishing, anticipating future duties, I went to the
kitchen for to order the tansy-cakes which were to be prizes at the
hand-ball playing on the next day. Like a foolish creature, I was
ready to smile at every jest, howsoever trifling; and when Basil put
in his head at the door and cried, "Prithee, let each one that eateth
of tansy-cake to-morrow, which signifieth bitter herbs, take also of
bacon, to show he is no Jew," the wenches and I did laugh till the
tears ran down our cheeks. Ah me! when the heart doth overflow with
joy 'tis marvellous how the least word maketh merriment.
One day late in April I rode with Basil for to see some hawking, which
verily is a pleasure for high and mounting spirits; howsoever, I wore
not the dress which the ladies in this country do use on such
occasions, for I have always thought it an unbecoming thing for women
to array themselves in male attire, or ride in fashion like a man, and
Basil is of my thinking thereon. It was a dear, calm, sun-shiny
evening, about an hour before the sun doth usually mask himself, that
we went to the river. There we dismounted and, for the first time, I
did behold this noble pastime. For is it not rare to consider how a
wild bird should be so brought to hand and so well managed as to make
us such pleasure in the air; but most of all to forego her native
liberty and feeding, and return to her servitude and diet? And what a
lesson do they read to us when our wanton wills and thoughts take no
heed of reason and conscience's voices luring us back to duty's perch.
When we had stood a brief time watching for a mallard, Basil perceived
one and whistled off his falcon. She flew from him as if she would
never have turned her head again, yet upon a shout came in. Then by
degrees, little by little, flying about and about, she mounted so high
as if she had made the moon the place of her flight, but presently
came down like a stone at the sound of his lure. I waxed very eager in
the noticing of these haps, and was well content to be an eye-witness
of this sport. Methought it should be a very pleasant thing to be
Basil's companion in it, and wear a dainty glove and a gentle tasel on
my fist which should never cast off but at my bidding, and when I let
it fly would return at my call. And this thought minded me of a
faithful love never diverted from its resting-place save by heavenward
aspirations alternating betwixt earthly duties and ghostly soarings.
But oh, what a tragedy was enacted in the air when Basil, having
detected by a little white feather in its tail a cock in a brake, cast
off a tasel gentle, who never ceased his circular motion till he had
recovered his place. Then suddenly upon the flushing of the cock
he came down, and missing of it in that down-come, lo what working
there was on both sides! The cock mounting as if he would have pierced
the skies; the hawk flying a contrary way until he had made the wind
his friend; what speed the cock made to save himself! What hasty
pursuit the hawk made of the fugitive! after long flying killing of
it, but alack in killing of it killing himself!
"Ah, a fatal ending to a fatal strife!" exclaimed a known voice close
unto mine ear, a melodious one, albeit now harsh to my hearing. Mine
eyes were dazzled with gazing upward, and I confusedly discerned two
gentlemen standing near me, one of which I knew to be Hubert. I gave
him my hand, and then Basil turning round and beholding him and his
companion, came up to them with a joyful greeting:
"Oh, Sir Henry," he exclaimed, "I be truly glad to see you; and you,
Hubert, what a welcome surprise is this!"
Then he introduced me to Sir Henry Jemingham; for he it was who,
bowing in a courteous fashion, addressed to me such compliments as
gentlemen are wont to pay to ladies at the outset of their
acquaintanceship.
These visitors had left their horses a few paces off, and then Sir
Henry explained that Hubert had been abiding with him at his seat for
a few days, and that certain law-business in which Basil was concerned
as well as his brother, and himself also, as having been for one year
his guardian, did necessitate a meeting wherein these matters should
be brought to a close.
"So," quoth he then, "Master Basil, I proposed we should invade your
solitude in place of withdrawing you from it, which methought of the
two evils should be the least, seeing what attractions do detain you
at Euston at this time."
I foolishly dared not look at Hubert when Sir Henry made this speech,
and Basil with hearty cheer thanked him for his obliging conduct and
the great honor he did him for to visit him in this amicable manner.
Then he craved his permission for to accompany me to Lady Tregony's
house, trusting, he said, to Hubert to conduct him to Euston, and to
perform there all hospitable duties during the short time he should be
absent himself.
"Nay, nay," quoth Sir Henry, "but, with your license, Master Basil, we
will ride with you and this lady to Banham Hall. Methinks, seeing you
are such near neighbors, that Mistress Sherwood lacketh not
opportunities to enjoy your company, and that you should not deprive
me of the pleasure of a short conversation with her whilst Hubert and
you entertain yourselves for the nonce in the best way you can."
Basil smiled, and said it contented him very much that Sir Henry
should enjoy my conversation, which he hoped in future should make
amends to his friends for his own deficiencies. So we all mounted our
horses, and Sir Henry rode alongside of me, and Basil and Hubert
behind us; for only two could hold abreast in the narrow lane which
led to Fakenham. A chill had fallen on my heart since Hubert's
arrival, which I can only liken to the sudden overcasting of a bright
sun-shiny day by a dark, cold cloud.
At first Sir Henry entered into discourse with me touching hawking,
which he talked of in a merry fashion, drawing many similitudes
betwixt falconers and lovers, which he said were the likest people in
the world.
"For, I pray you," said he "are not hawks to the one what his mistress
is to the other? the objects of his care, admiration, labor, and all.
They be indeed his idols. To them he consecrates his amorous ditties,
and courts each one in a peculiar dialect. Oh, believe me, Mistress
Sherwood, that lady may style herself fortunate in love who shall meet
with so much thought, affection, and solicitude from a lover or a
husband as his birds do from a good ostringen."
Then diverting his speech to other topics, he told me it was bruited
that the queen did intend to make a progress in the eastern counties
that summer, and that her majesty should be entertained in a very
splendid manner at Kenninghall by my Lord Arundel and also at his
house in Norwich.
"It doth much grieve me to hear it," I answered.
Then he: "Wherefore, Mistress Sherwood?"
"Because," I said, "Lord Arundel hath already greatly impaired his
fortune and spent larger sums than can be thought of in the like
prodigal courtly expenses, and also lost a good part of the lands
which his grandfather and my Lady Lumley would have bequeathed to him
if he had not turned spendthrift and so greatly displeased them."
"But and if it be so," quoth he again, "wherefore doth this young
nobleman's imprudence displeasure you, Mistress Sherwood?"
I answered, "By reason of the pain which his follies do cause to his
sweet lady, which for many years hath been more of a friend to my poor
self, than unequal rank and, if possible, still more unequal merit
should warrant."
"Then I marvel not," replied Sir Henry, "at your resentment of her
husband's folly, for by all I have ever seen or heard of this lady she
doth show herself to be the pattern of a wife, the model of high-born
ladies; and 'tis said that albeit so young, there doth exist in her so
much merit and dignity that some noblemen confess that when they come
into her presence they dare not swear, as at other times they are wont
to do before the best of the kingdom. But I have heard, and am verily
inclined to believe it, that he is much changed in his dispositions
toward his lady; though pride, it may be, or shame at his ill-usage of
her, or fear that it should seem that, now his favor with the queen
doth visibly decline, he should turn to her whom, when fortune smiled
upon him, he did keep aloof from, seeking her only when clouds gather
round him, do hinder him from showing these new inclinations."
"How much he would err," I exclaimed, "and wrong his noble wife if he
misdoubted her heart in such a case! Methinks most women would be
ready to forgive one they loved when misfortune threatened them, but
she beyond all others, who never at any time allowed jealousy or
natural resentments to draw away her love from him to whom she hath
vowed it. But is Lord Arundel then indeed in less favor with her
majesty? And how doth this surmise agree with the report of her visit
to Kenninghall?"
"Ah, Mistress Sherwood," he answered, "declines in the human body
often do call for desperate remedies, and the like are often required
when they occur in court favor. 'Tis a dangerous expedient to spend
two or three thousands of pounds in one or two days for the
entertainment of the queen and the court; but if, on the report of her
intended progress, one of such high rank as Lord Arundel had failed to
place his house at her disposal, his own disgrace and his enemies'
triumph should have speedily ensued. I pray God my Lord Burleigh do
not think on Cottessy! Egad, I would as lief pay down at once one
year's income as to be so uncertainly mulcted. I warrant you Lord
Arundel shall have need to sell an estate to pay for the honor her
majesty will do him. He hath a spirit will not stop half-way in
anything he doth pursue."
"Then think you, sir," I said, "he will be one day as noted for his
virtues as now for his faults?"
Sir Henry smiled as he answered, "If Philip Howard doth set himself
one day to serve God, I promise you his zeal therein will far exceed
what he hath shown in the devil's service."
"I pray you prove a true prophet, sir," I said; and, as we now had
reached the door of Lady Tregony's house, I took leave of this
courteous gentlemen, and hastily turned toward Basil--with an
uneasy desire to set him on his guard to use some reserve in his
speeches with Hubert, but withal at a loss how to frame a brief
warning, or to speak without being overheard. Howsoever, I drew him a
little aside, and whispered, "Prithee, be silent touching Owen's work,
even to Hubert."
He looked at me so much astonished, and methought with so great a look
of pain, that my heart smote me. We exchanged a brief farewell; and
when they had all ridden away, I felt sad. Our partings were wont to
be more protracted; for he would most times ask me to walk back with
him to the gate, and then made it an excuse that it should be
unmannerly not to see me home, and so three or four times we used to
walk to and fro, till at last I did laughingly shut the door on him,
and refused to open it again. But, ah me! that evening the chill I
spoke of had fallen on our simple joys like a blight on a fair
landscape.
On the next day two missives came to me from Euston, sent by private
hand, but not by the same messenger. I leave the reader to judge what
I felt in reading these proofs of the dispositions of two brothers, so
alike in features, so different in soul. This was Basil's letter:
"MINE OWN DEAR HEART--
The business which hath brought Sir Henry and Hubert here will, I be
frightened, hold me engaged all to-morrow. But, before I sleep, I must
needs write thee (poor penman as I be) how much it misliketh me to see
in thee an ill opinion of mine only and dear brother, and such
suspicion as verily no one should entertain of a friend, but much less
of one so near in blood. I do yield thee that he is not as zealous as
I could wish in devout practices, and something too fond of worldly
pleasures; but God is my witness, I should as soon think of doubting
mine own existence as his fidelity to his religion, or his kindness to
myself. So, prithee, dear love, pain me not again by the utterance of
such injurious words to Hubert as that I should not trust him with any
secrets howsoever weighty, or should observe any manner of restraint
in communicating with him touching common dangers and interests.
Methinks he is very sad at this time, and that the sight of his
paternal home hath made him melancholy. Verily, his lot hath in it
none of the brightness which doth attend mine, and I would we could
anyways make him a partaker in the happiness we do enjoy. I pray God
he may help me to effect this, by the forwarding of any wish he hath
at heart; but he was always of a very reserved habit of mind, and not
prone to speak of his own concernments. Forgive, sweetheart, this
loving reproof, from thy most loving friend and servant,"
"BASIL ROOKWOOD."
Hubert's was as followeth:
"MADAM--
My presumption toward you hath doubtless been a sin calling
for severe punishment; but I pray you leave not the cause of it
unremembered. The doubtful mind you once showed in my regard, and of
which the last time I saw you some marks methought did yet appear,
should be my excuse if I have erred in a persistency of love, which
most women would less deserve indeed, but would more appreciate than
you have done. If this day no token doth reach me of your changed
mind, be it so. I depart hence as changed as you do remain unchanged.
It may be for mine own weal, albeit passion deems of it otherwise, if
you finally reject me whom once you did look upon with so great favor,
that the very thought of it works in me a revived tenderness as should
be mine own undoing if it prevailed, for this country hath laws which
are not broken in vain, and faithful loyal service is differently
requited than traitorous and obstinate malignity. I shall be the
greater for lacking your love, proud lady; but to have it I would
forego all a sovereign can bestow--all that ambition can desire.
These, then, are my last words. If we meet not to-day, God
knoweth with what sentiments we shall one day meet, when justice hath
overtaken you, and love in me hath turned to hatred!"
"HUBERT ROOKWOOD."
"Ay," I bitterly exclaimed, laying the two letters side by side before
me, "one endeth with love, the other with hate. The one showeth the
noble fruits of true affection, the other the bitter end of selfish
passion." Then I mused if I should send Basil, or show him later
Hubert's letter, clearing myself of any injustice toward him, but
destroying likewise for ever his virtuous confidence his brother's
honor. A short struggle with myself ensued, but I soon resolved, for
the present at least, on silence. If danger did seem to threaten
Basil, which his knowledge of his brother's baseness could avert, then
I must needs speak; but God defend I should without constraint pour a
poisoned drop into the dear fount of his undoubting soul. Passion may
die away, hatred may cease, repentance arise; but the evil done by the
revealing of another's sin worketh endless wrong to the doer and the
hearer.
The day on which I received these two letters did seem the longest I
had ever known. On the next Basil came to Banham Hall, and told me his
guests were gone. A load seemed lifted from my heart But, albeit we
resumed our wonted manner of life, and the same mutual kindness and
accustomed duties and pleasures filled our days, I felt less secure in
my happiness, less thoughtless of the world without, more subject to
sudden sinkings of heart in the midst of greatest merriment, than
before Hubert's visit.
In the early part of June, Mr. Congleton wrote in answer to Basil's
eager pressings that he would fix the day of our marriage, that he was
of opinion a better one could not be found than that of our Lady's
Visitation, on the 2d of July, and that, if it pleased God, he should
then take the first journey he had made for five-and-twenty years; for
nothing would serve Lady Tregony but that the wedding should take
place in her house, where a priest would marry us in secret at break
of day, and then we should ride to the parish church at Euston for the
public ceremony. He should, he added, carry Muriel with him, howsoever
reluctant she should be to leave London; but he promised us this
should be a welcome piece of constraint, for that she longed to see me
again more than can be told.
Verily, pleasant letters reached me that week; for my father wrote he
was in better health, and in great peace and contentment of mind at
Rheims, albeit somewhat sad, when he saw younger and more fortunate
men (for so he styled them) depart for the English mission; and by a
cypher we had agreed on he gave me to understand Edmund Genings was of
that number. And Lady Arundel, to whom I had reported the conversation
I had with Sir Henry Jemingham, sent me an answer which I will here
transcribe:
"MY WELL-BELOVED CONSTANCE
--You do rightly read my heart, and the hope you express in my regard,
with so tender a friendship and solicitous desire for my happiness,
hath indeed a better foundation than idle surmises. It hath truly
pleased God that Philip's disposition toward me should change; and
albeit this change is not as yet openly manifested, he nevertheless
doth oftentimes visit me, and testifies much regret for his past
neglect of one whom he doth now confess to be his truest friend, his
greatest lover, and best comfort. O mine own dear friend! my life has
known many strange accidents, but none greater or more strange than
this, that my so long indifferent husband should turn into a secret
lover who doth haunt me by stealth, and looking on me with new eyes,
appears to conceive so much admiration for my worthless beauty, and to
find such pleasure in my poor company, that it would seem as if a new
face and person had been given to me wherewith to inspire him
with this love for her to whom he doth owe it. Oh, I promise thee this
husbandly wooing liketh me well, and methinks I would not at once
disclose to the world this new kindness he doth show me and revival of
conjugal affection, but rather hug it and cherish it like a secret
treasure until it doth take such deep root that nothing can again
separate his heart from me. His fears touching the queen's
ill-conception of him increase, and his enemies do wax more powerful
each day. The world hath become full of uneasiness to him. Methinks he
would gladly break with it; but like to one who walketh on a narrow
plank, with a precipice on each side of him, his safety lieth only in
advancing. The report is true--I would it were false--of the queen's
progress, and her intended visit to Kenninghall. I fear another fair
estate in the north must needs pay the cost thereof; but avoidance is
impossible. I am about to remove from London to Arundel Castle, where
my lord doth will me for the present to reside. The sea-breezes on
that coast, and the mild air of Sussex, he thinks should improve my
health, which doth at this time require care. Touching religion, I
have two or three times let fall words which implied an increased
inclination to Catholic religion. Each time his countenance did very
much alter, and assumed a painful expression. I fear he is as greatly
opposed to it as heretofore. But if once resolved on what conscience
doth prescribe, with God's help, I hope that neither new-found joys
nor future fears shall stay me from obeying its voice.
"And so thou art to be married come the early days of July! I' faith
thy Basil and thou have, like a pair of doves, cooed long enough, I
ween, amidst the tall trees of Euston; which, if you are to be
believed, should be the most delectable place in the whole world. And
yet some have told me it is but a huge plain building, and the country
about it, except for its luxuriant trees, of no notable beauty. The
sunshine of thine own heart sheddeth, I ween, a radiancy on the plain
walls and the unadorned gardens greater than nature or art can bestow.
I cry thee mercy for this malicious surmise, and give thee license,
when I shall write in the same strain touching my lord's castle at
Arundel to flout me in a like manner. Some do disdainfully style it a
huge old fortress; others a very grand and noble pile. If that good
befalleth me that he doth visit me there, then I doubt not but it will
be to me the cheerfullest place in existence. Thy loving servant to
command,
"ANN ARUNDEL AND SURREY."
This letter came to my hand at Whitsuntide, when the village folks
were enacting a pastoral, the only merit of which did lie in the
innocent glee of the performers. The sheep-shearing feast, a very
pretty festival, ensued a few days later. A fat lamb was provided, and
the maidens of the town permitted to run after it, and she which took
hold of it declared the lady of the lamb. 'Tis then the custom to kill
and carry it on a long pole before the lady and her companions to the
green, attended with music and morisco dances. But this year I
ransomed the lamb, and had it crowned with blue corn-flowers and
poppies, and led to a small paddock, where for some time I visited and
fed it every day. Poor little lamb! like me, it had one short happy
time that summer.
In the evening I went with the lasses to the banks of the Ouse, and
scattered on the dimpling stream, as is their wont at the lamb-ale, a
thousand odorous flowers--new-born roses, the fleur-de-luce,
sweet-williams, and yellow coxcombs, the small-flowered
lady's-slipper, the prince's-feather and the clustered bell-flower,
the sweet-basil (the saucy wenches smiled when they furnished me with
a bunch thereof), and a great store of midsummer daisies. When, with
due observance, I threw on the water a handful of these golden-tufted
and silver-crowned flowerets, I thought of Master Chaucer's
lines:
"Above all the flowers in the mead
These love I most--these flowers white and red.
And in French called _la belle Marguerite_.
O commendable flower, and most in mind!
O flower and gracious excellence!
O amiable Marguerite."
The great store of winsome and graciously-named flowers used that day
set me to plan a fair garden, wherein each month should yield in its
turn to the altar of our secret chapel a pure incense of nature's own
furnishing. Basil was helping me thereto, and my Lady Tregony smiling
at my quaint devices, when Mr. Cobham, a cousin of her ladyship,
arrived, bringing with him news of the queen's progress, which quickly
diverted us from other thoughts, and caused my pencil to stand idle in
mine hand.