Lady Caroline Talks With Me
I slept soundly that first night of my stay at Woodleigh Castle,
being altogether worn out and in the utmost need of Nature's kind
restorer, and it was very late on the following day when I awoke to
find Betsy at my side with hot broth and bread and sundry other
articles of food.
'Mistress,' said my woman, 'you must eat and drink, for there are
great happenings here, and you will need your strength, aye and your
wits about you, too. Timothy says he does not like you to be alone
amongst strange leaders of whom your father may not approve, and he
hopes that you will not be led to feelings which will unfit you for
being the companion of the high and noble lady to whom your father is
sending you, though indeed I think he might have come with you
himself if he had known how dangerous it was.'
I could not help smiling at Betsy's speech, as I sat up to take the
refreshment she brought me. The first part of her speech was
laboured and unnatural, as if she were the unwilling mouthpiece of
poor old Timothy, but the last bit was certainly her own, for it bore
Betsy stamped all over it.
'Yes, mistress, you can smile now that the danger is over,' said my
maid, much aggrieved, 'but I can tell you we have had a narrow
escape, a very narrow escape indeed. The people here say that we
might have been all killed, as likely as not, by the highwaymen whom
Sir Claudius consorts with and leads. They say that he got knighted
by mistake, and that he is to be unknighted again--the knowledge of
which makes him desperate. And they say, too, which indeed our men
and I think also, that you brought all our misfortunes upon us,
mistress, by interposing to save those witches, which was directly
interfering with Providence that was about to send them back to where
they came from.'
'I never did think you were wise, Betsy,' said I, 'but now I know you
are most foolish. And I will not listen to you any more.' And with
that I turned my back upon her, and took my food looking the other
way, with the vague feeling that I would not cast the pearls of my
wiser thoughts before the swine of Betsy's foolishness.
Betsy, however, was not to be suppressed. She went on talking as she
looked over my dress, repairing it in places where it had been torn
and making it ready for me to put on. And, by-and-by I heard her say
words which caused me to turn round and ask, 'What is that? What did
the men say Sir Claudius cried as he rode off?'
'He vowed,' she cried, 'he vowed that he would have you yet. Aye, he
said that he would never rest until he had won you for his own, that
he might vanquish your proud and haughty spirit!'
I was rather frightened, but endeavoured not to show it.
''Tis a little cock,' I said, 'that crows the loudest.'
Then Betsy approached the bed, and fell down on her knees before me.
'Mistress,' she said imploringly, 'promise me that you will not
interfere with witches and such like again. It is that which gives
the Evil One power over you, and makes you take rank with his
creatures----'
'Fie upon you, Betsy!' I exclaimed indignantly. 'I know what you are
thinking. In your naughty thoughts you are limiting the power of our
Heavenly Father to take care of me His child, and you are believing
that Satan is as mighty, or mightier than He.' Then, as she was
silent, I went on, 'Don't you remember that Master Montgomery used to
say, "There are no people common or unclean now, since the Gentiles
are called to salvation, and our Heavenly Father cares for us all
with the utmost tenderness." You know, Betsy, even those poor old
women you despised were His dear children. And Master Montgomery
said, too, which indeed we know well, that, strong though Satan may
be, there is One who is stronger than he.'
Betsy was silenced then. She arose, wiped her eyes and turned meekly
away to her work, and I saw it was better to instruct and teach her
right notions than to be so contemptuous as at first I was in heart,
and told myself I must remember that Master Montgomery said, 'A
Christian should always be gentle and "apt to teach."'
Scarcely had I settled that in my mind, when the door opened to admit
Lady Caroline Wood, who approached me with great kindness, asking how
I had slept and if I were recovered from my fatigue.
When I had answered that my night's sleep was good and my health as
well as usual, she asked if my woman might withdraw as she wished to
converse with me in private.
'Certainly,' I replied, a little wonderingly, and then I bade Betsy
leave the room; and Lady Caroline, who was not much older than
myself--though by wearing a large head-dress and elaborate garments
she looked so--sat down on the edge of my bed, and talked long with
me.
'I have heard,' she began--'Sir Hubert has told us--what a brave girl
you were yesterday in withstanding alone, with your few servants, the
cruelties a crowd of men and boys were practising on two old women.
It was noble of you, Mistress Margaret, and I honour you for it with
all my heart.'
Thereupon she took up my right hand and pressed it for a moment to
her lips.
'You are a heroine,' she said, 'and I admire and love you.'
'Indeed it was nothing,' I rejoined; 'moreover I was powerless to
avert their cruel death,' and the tears rose to my eyes as I thought
of what those poor old women endured.
But Lady Caroline, stooping over me, kissed my tears away.
'You did your best,' she said, 'and may well trust that the good God
would receive them through that painful--if haply short--gate into
His glorious kingdom.'
She was silent for a moment or two, and my heart warmed to her, for I
recognized that she loved Him whom I served, and thought not small
things of Him, but the very best.
Then she began again--
'They were taken away from the evil, and your precious life was saved
for further and it may be greater work. You are going, I hear, to
attend the noble lady who has married Guildford Dudley, the Duke of
Northumberland's fourth son?'
'Yes,' replied I, 'Lady Jane Grey, to call her by her maiden name.
Do you know aught about her, Lady Caroline?' and there was some
anxiety in my tone, for indeed it mattered much to me what sort of a
lady that was to whom I was making so long and hazardous a journey.
'Indeed I do. She is a very, very great lady. Some think she will
even become queen when our King Edward dies.'
'Queen!' exclaimed I, 'but the king has sisters. Princess Mary will
be our sovereign after him.'
Lady Caroline sighed deeply.
'That would be very sad for England were it to happen,' she said.
'Princess Mary is a Papist, you know, and if she became queen she
would plunge the kingdom into papistry and persecutions, so that
rivers of blood would flow----'
'And the good curates, and Master Montgomery,' I asked, 'what would
become of them?' For my thoughts had flown to the limited circle in
which I had been brought up and the good old man from whose teachings
I was fresh.
'They would be martyred--perchance he would be burned at the stake,'
said Lady Caroline.
'No, no,' I cried. 'God would not allow it.'
'God often works by means of man,' the lady answered solemnly, 'and
it may be in the power of the more enlightened of the people of
England to prevent those calamities from happening.'
'May it? But how?' I asked, my eyes opening wide with wonder. 'What
power in the world can prevent Princess Mary from becoming queen upon
the death of our young king?'
'Some of the wisest of our nobility, and our poor sick king himself,
have thought upon a way,' replied Lady Caroline, adding, 'Mistress
Brown, it may be in your power to help to bring it about.'
'How? How?' I cried. 'Explain. Explain.'
Then Lady Caroline explained. She said that to save the country from
horrors innumerable, which would fall upon it in the event of a
Papist succeeding to the throne, it was deemed expedient that the
king should be induced to make a will, or sign letters patent, to
appoint that after his death the crown should be placed upon the head
of his young relative, Lady Jane Grey, in which case the Princesses
Mary and Elizabeth would be pronounced illegitimate and would
therefore be passed over.
I did not know what to say to that. It did not seem to me to be
quite right, and yet Lady Caroline said it in such a manner as showed
that she was completely convinced it was so.
'The king is very ill now,' she continued, after a slight pause, 'and
the Duke of Northumberland is with him.'
'Is the duke one of those who favour Lady Jane Grey's being made
queen?' I asked.
'Yes. And I will tell you why. He sees so clearly what devastation
and woe will come upon this kingdom if a Papist is again upon the
throne; and on the other hand how blessed and prosperous it will
become under good Protestant governance.'
'Lady Jane Grey is a Protestant, then?' I asked.
'Certainly, and withal so wise and virtuous as to stand out far above
all other women in the world.'
I thought if that were so she would not like to step before the
Princesses Mary and Elizabeth, but I dared not say it, for, with all
her sweetness there was something imperious about Lady Caroline so
that I felt she would not brook dissent from a young girl like me.
She seemed to be a little piqued with my silence, and getting off the
bed, stood beside it to say, as if closing the discussion--
'For the enlightenment of the people in our neighbourhood and to
instil the truth into their minds my husband has invited Sir Hubert
Blair here, purposely to speak to a congregation to-night, which he
intends getting together, of our tenantry and people in the
neighbourhood.'
That touched me more nearly than the other matter, and I felt myself
colouring deeply. 'Has Sir Hubert skill thus to speak?' I asked.
'Certainly; he is a very able man, and always speaks out manfully for
the right. In Spain, when he went with his friend, Sir Thomas Wyatt,
who accompanied his father on an embassy, he saw much of the horrors
of papistry and the terrible Inquisition, and he is going to tell the
people about it to-night, that every one present may be stirred to do
his utmost to keep it far from our land.'
She paused.
'I should like to hear what he has to say,' I said. 'Are you going
to be present, Lady Caroline?'
'Yes, yes,' she said, 'and I will take you with me; indeed, we think
you ought to come to it--for you ought to know everything, then you
can tell Lady Jane all that you have heard.'
I was rather alarmed at the idea of doing that, not knowing then that
she was even sweeter and more easy to get on with than Lady Caroline
herself. But I have often noticed that the higher up in the scale of
society a person is so much the more courteous and gentle we are sure
to find him or her. For it is ever the greater man, the greater
courtesy.
After Lady Caroline had gone I dressed and went downstairs into the
large hall, where she came to me again, and the rest of that day was
spent very quietly with her alone, none of the gentlemen coming near
us, as they were all busy preparing for the meeting and riding far to
bid folk come to it. I was constantly hoping to see Sir Hubert Blair
again, and I think Lady Caroline discovered this, for she said not
unkindly--
'You cannot see Sir Hubert until the meeting, which is to be held in
the courtyard after the ringing of the curfew bell. And there you
will not be able to speak to him--at least not until the gathering is
over--but you will hear all he has to say.'
Then, I began to long exceedingly for the time of the meeting to
come, as I wished, above all things, to see my brave champion again,
and hear the words he had to say.