_A WINTER OF PLOTS._
I went back to my uncle's house with my head full of romantic stuff
about lovers and love's dreams, and with every intention of working
might and main to bring about the happiness of the two beings in whom
these romantic notions centred--namely, the dashing young Viscount
and sweet Mistress Mary Mead. Not only did I resolve to deliver the
precious letter upon the first possible opportunity, but I also made up
my mind to speak such glowing words of praise anent the writer thereof
as should move the heart of any maiden, still more of one who I was
very certain was predisposed to think kindly of him of whom I should
thus speak. I was little versed in affairs of the heart; yet I had
not read my Shakespeare so earnestly for nothing all these years, and
I felt very sure that the heart of a young maid was not of adamant,
and that the youthful wooing of which the Viscount had told me could
not have failed to make an impression upon the tender and ardent
imagination of Mistress Mary.
Nevertheless, in spite of all the eagerness on my part to set things
in train for a happy consummation, I was destined to disappointment;
for not only had Mistress Mary not returned to Miss Blake's house
when I got back, but I speedily heard that she had accompanied her
young namesake on a visit the latter was paying to some relatives in
the adjoining county of Devon, and that she was not like to return to
Taunton for some months to come. Moreover, I could not learn her exact
whereabouts in Devonshire, only that it was at the other side of the
county, and nigh to Cornwall. There was plainly no chance for me to
pay her a flying visit on Blackbird. I should have to wait until she
returned to her abode in the town. I shrewdly suspected that my Lord
of Lonsdale had had somewhat to do with this journey of hers far away.
Belike he had spoken to his friend Sir Ralph Bridges of his wish to
keep his son from the fascinations of Mistress Mary, and this visit for
her had been arranged between them.
Lord Vere was very sorrowful when he heard what had befallen,
and declared it all part of a plot. But he was resolved that no
machinations on the part of those about them should sunder him from his
Mary, and made up his mind to wait in patience till she returned, and
then see if he could not make shift by hook or by crook to get speech
of her, and plead his cause in person. Meantime he hung much about
Taunton, and improved his acquaintance with that city and with many of
its inhabitants, making himself well beloved by all who saw him for his
gay and winsome ways, and his gracious kindliness of demeanour to his
inferiors. And doubtless this paved the way for what followed later.
I had not been home long before Will Wiseman sought me out, and with an
air of secrecy and importance invited me to come when occasion served
and visit him of an evening at Master Simpson's house.
"There be meetings twice or thrice in the week, Dicon," he whispered,
with his finger on his lips. "Men say that the King cannot live
long--that he has a mortal disease which is slowly consuming him. The
friends of liberty are laying their plans, and are taking counsel
together what it is best to do. They meet at Master Simpson's ofttimes,
and if thou wilt come I will take care thou dost hear all that is said.
Money is being got together, and men are secretly working amongst their
fellows, so that at the right moment the whole county will rise as one
man for the right. Come and hear for thyself; but not a word to thine
uncle. He is too cautious a man to join with the friends of freedom. He
desires to see how the issue will be decided ere he commits himself to
take a side. That is not the stuff of which heroes are made." Will's
eyes flashed with his enthusiasm; and I caught the spirit from him, and
vowed I would come so soon as my duties would permit me.
What Will spoke of mine uncle was too true for me to resent. He was one
of those who desired to embrace the winning side, whichever that side
should be. I knew well that in his heart he favoured the cause of the
Duke of Monmouth; but he was less sanguine than some of his towns-folk
of the chances of the Duke's success, and he had no wish to imperil
his life or his living by any unguarded movement that might cause
him trouble later. He went steadily about his daily business, talking
freely with all who came and went, but always professing that he had
neither time nor knowledge to judge such matters. The making of kings
was no business of his; all he strove after was to obey the laws of the
land, and give his allegiance to the reigning sovereign.
By these methods he succeeded in keeping the confidence and liking of
all men; for a pleasanter companion, and a more hearty man in his ways,
it would be hard to find. If ever he heard me speak an unguarded word
on great matters, he would smite me on the shoulder, and give me a
kindly hint to guard my tongue, lest it should bring me into trouble,
and urge me not to meddle with matters beyond my understanding. But I
could not abide by such prudent counsel, and was all agog to hear what
was the talk of Master Simpson's parlour, whither I repaired whenever I
had the chance.
The men most frequently gathered together there for discussion and
mutual encouragement as the winter drew on were the two Hewling
brothers, of whom mention has been made, and who had wealth and leisure
as well as good-will to expend in the cause; Master Herring and Master
Hucker; a gentleman of the name of Sharpe, who was son to the Rev.
Emmanuel Sharpe, who had once been Vicar of St. Mary Magdalen; and
last, but not least, the two Dares, father and son, who always seemed
of all present the most to incline to bold counsel and resolute action.
I should weary the reader were I to give too much in detail all that
was planned and discussed at these meetings; but as the winter days
drew on, and rumours from London spoke more certainly of the King's
declining health, there was greater and greater desire amongst our
friends to rouse in the minds of the people of the West Country a
resolve to make a stand against Popery and unlawful tyranny. And I
remember well how Heywood Dare stood forth one day and said that
he would straightway go to Holland, find the Duke of Monmouth, and
take counsel with him; whilst those who remained behind were to work
ceaselessly in his interest here: so that when a blow was struck it
might be a heavy and decisive one.
The Duke of Monmouth was now living at the Hague in a sort of
honourable exile. The King had never ceased to regard him with
affection; but the jealousies and dissensions of the Court, and the
hostility of his own brother, had made him decree this thing for the
sake of peace and quietness. It seemed to us that it should have been
the Duke of York who ought to have been sent away; but unluckily we had
no voice in the ruling of these matters. It was the Protestant Duke
who had been forced to quit the country, and it certainly seemed an
excellent thing to establish direct personal relations with him through
the medium of Heywood Dare, a man of so much courage and devotion.
Those who worked amongst the people, sounding them and striving to
kindle within their hearts an enthusiasm for the cause, reported
favourably of the temper of the common people, but said that the
gentry held aloof, and were not to be approached. The influence of
the Earl of Lonsdale, Sir William Portman, and Sir Ralph Bridges was
very great around Taunton, and all these gentlemen were loyal in their
allegiance to what was termed the "Court party."
Sometimes I was called in and questioned about what I had heard at
Court House of the matters appertaining to the Duke, and my reports
were not favourable to our wishes. But I ventured once to hint that I
thought perhaps the young lord, Viscount Vere, might be won over to our
cause; and Mr. Benjamin Hewling was forthwith requested to seek him
out and strive to sound him in the matter. For all those who knew most
about the chances of such a struggle and the fortunes of war--should it
ever come to a passage of arms--declared many times that we must have
men of the better sort to lead and advise our recruits. Undisciplined
soldiers would follow an experienced and gallant captain, when they
would fall away in confusion and fear if they had no one above
themselves to look to. I could well believe that there were hundreds
who would follow the Viscount to danger and death, and fight to the
very last gasp, who would turn tail and run like sheep had they only a
plain townsman at their head.
How Mr. Benjamin Hewling fared on his mission I did not hear at once,
but I thought in my heart that Lord Vere would scarce be adamant to
a cause in which his Mary's heart was so bound up. He despised and
hated the Duke of York--I knew that very well--albeit he declared his
conviction of the necessity of supporting the rightful heir to the
crown be he never so personally unbeloved. But if Mr. Benjamin, with
his silver tongue and gentle ways, or Mistress Mary, with pleading
glances and eloquent words, could make him see the matter differently,
why, then, in him the good cause would have an able recruit; for my
Lord Vere was skilled in every kind of martial exercise, had seen
action abroad, and was of no small personal valour and gallantry.
I not unfrequently saw him in the streets arm in arm with Mr. Hewling,
and I heard of him as being seen within their hospitable doors, whilst
men spoke of the friendship which was growing up between him and the
two brothers, of whom all men thought so well. That they were growing
to be friends was evident enough, but whether the brothers Hewling
would persuade him to look at public matters with their eyes was what
none could say as yet.
Things were in this way at the approach of Christmas, and of that busy
festive season which kept me so close at home that I could scarce
stir abroad in search of amusement or information. There seemed to be
nothing but coming and going from morning till night--the lack of rain,
which still continued even during the winter, making the roads better
for travellers, and the excited state of the country tending to make
men restless and anxious for news.
But what excited me more than the rumours from London or the
preparations for Christmas-tide was the return of Mistress Mary to Miss
Blake's house just before the festive season came.
I did not know that she was back; for the school had broken up for the
recess, and my informant Lizzie, who kept me conversant with what went
on within those walls, had not heard anything of the matter when I was
asked to come and read to the ladies, as I was in the way of doing
from time to time. When therefore I entered the parlour, with my book
beneath my arm and the most recent news-letter in my hand, who should
be there, in her accustomed seat beside the fire, but Mistress Mary
Mead, looking as sweet and lovely as ever, though perhaps a little
pale; and seated beside her, with his hungry, cruel-looking eyes almost
always fixed upon her face, was the Rev. Nicholas Blewer, the man whom
above all others in Taunton Town I feared and hated.
How came he there? and how dared he sit beside Mistress Mary as though
it were his right, and keep his evil eyes so constantly upon her face
as he was doing now? I felt my blood boil in my veins as I saw him, and
I should well have liked to take the knave by the throat and fling him
out at the door. But instead I was forced to sit in my place and read
to him as well as to the rest, and listen to his comments upon the news
of the week--comments which, as I well saw, brought the flush of anger
many times into Mistress Mary's cheek. For Mr. Blewer was a bitter
enemy of those who held for liberty and the Duke; and it was whispered
that at heart he was a Papist, and every whit as cruel as the Duke of
York.
Now I trust that in thus speaking of Mr. Blewer it will not be thought
that I would willingly speak evil of any man called to a holy office,
or that I have any hatred towards the clergy of the Established Church
of the land, for this is far from being the case. I hold that we owe
them all reverence and honour, and, as these pages will show, I account
Mr. Axe a great and noble man, albeit he took our contrary part in the
struggle I am coming to. Yet inasmuch as there are black sheep in every
flock, and as the cassock and surplice do not do away with a man's evil
nature--nay, the very fact that a man of unbridled passions should
blaspheme the name of God and the Holy Ghost by taking upon himself
vows for which he is unfit, makes his office of necessity a mockery and
a stumbling-block--so it always has seemed to me that if an ordained
priest of God is untrue to his calling, he becomes a much worse man
than if he had not mocked God by taking such vows into his lips. At
least I can but say that Mr. Blewer always appeared to me to be an
emissary of the Evil One disguised as a servant of God, and I am sure
that Mistress Mary shrank from him as though he were indeed such an one.
It was a great matter of wonderment to me how he came to be in Miss
Blake's parlour, for I was sure that neither she nor Mrs. Musgrave
had any love for him. These ladies and their pupils (such as resided
beneath their roof) attended service at St. Mary's Church, as it was
considered right and proper to do, and Mr. Axe was revered and beloved
by them. But why this evil-faced Mr. Blewer was admitted was a source
of much perplexity to me, and my perplexity was turned to alarm when
I perceived that upon rising to take his leave he saluted Mistress
Mary's hand with a look which could not well be mistaken, and made as
though he would have gone further and saluted her lips also had she not
drawn herself away with a decision that was not to be mistaken.
I saw an ugly look spring into his eyes at that, and thought his smile
more hideous than a frown would have been.
"Ah well, I must be patient, sweetheart," he said. "We shall learn to
understand each other better in time."
Then, with a bow which included all the ladies, he retired, and I was
almost astonished to see gentle Mistress Mary dash the hand that he had
kissed against the marble mantel-shelf with such force that she must
have bruised the tender skin.
"That odious man!" she cried, with unwonted heat. "Prithee, dear madam,
have pity upon me, and let him come here no more."
"Dear Mary, I like him as little as thou," answered Miss Blake, with a
shake of the head. "I know he is an evil creature. But what can I do,
when your worthy guardian bids me give him access from time to time,
that he may pay his addresses to you, and tells me that he does this
with his approval and consent?"
I almost gasped at this, for I began to see that Mistress Mary was
like to be made the victim of a plot which seemed vile and base to
me, although I was certain that Lord Lonsdale had no idea of acting
unjustly or cruelly. Doubtless he would think Mr. Blewer a suitable
husband for his ward. No one knew aught against him, so far as I
had ever heard, and he had some money, and came of a family as good
as Mistress Mary's. To get her safely and quickly married would, of
course, be the easiest way of keeping her out of the path of his son. I
could not wonder at the turn matters had taken, and yet my heart felt
hot within me as I thought of the Viscount and then recalled the cruel,
wolfish face of Mr. Blewer.
That night, as I reached my room, I stepped out upon the balcony and
eagerly scanned the windows of the house I had just quitted. Once or
twice it had been my hap to see the fair face of Mistress Mary looking
out from a window not very far away; and to-night fortune favoured me,
for I had not been at my post more than a few minutes before a curtain
was drawn aside and a gleam of light shone out. Then quickly a casement
was flung open as if by an impatient hand, and Mistress Mary leaned out
into the clear frosty night as though eager to inhale the fresh cold
air. I thought I heard a sound break from her like a sob or a sigh.
That she was in perplexity and trouble I could not doubt, and I longed
with a longing that would brook no delay to go and comfort her.
I looked into the yard below. All was perfectly quiet and tranquil. I
scanned all the windows of both houses, but no light shone from any
save Mistress Mary's. I stood above her in my balcony, clasping the
letter I had dashed in to fetch in my hand. The next minute I had
hidden it in the breast of my doublet, and was swinging myself like a
monkey from balcony and waterspout to balcony and waterspout, till my
movements attracted her attention, and she gave a little cry of fear.
"Hist, mistress!" I cried in a low voice; "fear not. It is I--Dicon
Snowe. I have somewhat to say to thee, and somewhat to give. Have no
fear; I will reach thee without hurt."
For if my back was crooked, and my legs not of great service for long
walks, I had a length and strength of arm that made amends for much,
and such a transit as this was but child's play to me. I was soon
upon the balcony outside the window by which she stood; but I came no
further, knowing my place better than to intrude upon her.
"Mistress Mary," I said eagerly, "I have a letter for you from my lord
the young Viscount Vere. I have had it these three months, but never
have seen you to deliver it. I sware to him I would not let it leave my
hands till I could place it in yours. Take it and read it; and if there
be any answer, I will make shift to deliver that. For I love my lord as
much as he deserves to be loved by high and low; and since I know his
heart is bound up in love for you, I would fain carry him good tidings."
It was perhaps overbold of me to speak so, but my heart seemed burning
within me; and although Mistress Mary's cheek glowed and she turned
away with her letter, yet I saw the soft light which had come into her
eyes, and I knew that her heart was not cold to him, however she might
have schooled herself to think she must thwart his love.
She read her letter from end to end whilst I stood and watched her,
though since she discreetly turned her back to me I could not see its
effect upon her. Nevertheless, when she turned round I was sure there
were tears upon her cheek, and I did not think that they were tears of
sorrow.
"O Dicon," she said, coming forward towards me with the confidence that
a sister might show to a brother, "Lord Vere says he has told all the
story to thee. What must I say? What must I do when there be so many
things against it, and it will hurt him so with his father if I let him
have his way?"
"Methinks, lady, it will hurt him the more if you be cruel to him," I
answered eagerly; "for his very heart is bound up in this matter, and
he has been faithful all these years."
"I know it, I know it! How can I doubt it, and how could I help loving
him, when he was suffered to be all the world to me in days of yore?
But a maid may not always wed as her heart prompts, and I would suffer
untold woe myself sooner than hurt him. And it has been said to me that
it would hurt him grievously if I were to wed with him; and in very
truth there be many and grievous barriers betwixt us," and she sighed
heavily, whilst a cloud came over her face.
I guessed of what she was thinking, and that it was the different view
they took of the coming strife, and I knew not how to reassure her
here; but I ventured to remark,--
"But Mr. Blewer hates the cause of the Duke and of freedom as my lord
the Viscount never would. Sure it were better to marry a noble foe than
one so cruel and false!"
"Marry Mr. Blewer!" cried Mistress Mary, with a vehemence I scarce
believed her capable of; "sooner would I die than do that! Nay, come
what will, none shall coerce me there. I can live and die a maid, if
Heaven so will it, but I will never wed with yon bad man!"
Right glad was I to hear her speak with such spirit and resolve; for we
of the stronger sex are always half afraid that women may be cajoled or
coerced into anything if only the persecution be determined enough. Yet
I could not get her to intrust me with a letter to Lord Vere, nor yet
with a direct message; only when I said that I would tell him what had
passed betwixt us twain, she did not say me nay.
I had no rest till I had got speech of the Viscount and had told him
all that had passed. His brow darkened ominously as he heard of Mr.
Blewer, and of his own father's support of such a suit.
"He had better have a care how he goads me," I heard him mutter through
his shut teeth; "he may chance to find he has gone too far an he treat
her and me thus."
Then I told of the interview I had had with Mistress Mary, and his face
kindled at the recital. As I finished he burst forth,--
"They have made her think she will injure me by her love. I must see
her myself, and show her the folly of that belief. Dicon lad, thou
art a trusty comrade; thou must do yet one thing more for me. Thou
must show me how I may get secretly to the balcony of my lady's room,
and so have speech with her, no man but thee knowing it. Once face to
face with her, I warrant I will chase away her fears and her doubts.
Thou shalt keep thy watch whilst I speak with her; nor will I enter her
room, but only stand without as thou hast done. But see her I must,
else shipwreck may come of the happiness of two lives. Wilt thou help
me in this, good Dicon?"
I think I would have helped him to whatever he asked with such a look
and smile; but anything so like a repetition of the romantic story of
Romeo and Juliet kindled my ardent enthusiasm and interest. I had very
small doubts myself that Mistress Mary would be at her window again
to-night, half repenting her of her refusal to send a message, and on
the look-out for more news of her lover; therefore as soon as the house
was quiet I showed the Viscount how the transit to the balcony might be
made, and myself stood in another balcony commanding all the windows,
just out of ear-shot, but in full view of the lovers, and ready to give
them any assistance by warning or counsel.
It was a bold scheme, but like many such it won its reward. My lord had
not waited there above ten minutes before the curtains were drawn back,
the casement opened, and then, with a little cry which penetrated even
to my ears, Mistress Mary came face to face with her lover.
I was very happy at the success of this experiment; but I confess I
had time to grow very cold before the casement closed again and my lord
called cautiously to me to join him. I did this without much trouble,
and then showed him how he might reach the ground without danger of
falling. Soon we stood together in the paved court-yard of the inn, and
he grasped my hands in both of his, whilst I could see that his eyes
were shining as brilliantly as stars.
"Dicon," he said, "thou art the best and truest of comrades. I will
never forget thy good offices this night."
And I felt already abundantly rewarded for what I had done.
It was not my place to ask questions, but surely there was no need in
face of my lord's joyous and triumphant bearing. He seemed to tread on
air. He passed his arm through mine, and drew me forth into the street
with him through the arched gateway, which was not closed at night in
quiet times; nor did we pause till we reached the bridge and stood
looking down into the flowing dark waters together.
"I could walk all night for very happiness!" cried the Viscount, with
that exhilaration of spirit which comes from a deep joy. "Can England
itself boast a fairer and more gracious maid than my Mary? Ah, the days
will come when my father will rejoice to welcome her as a daughter!
None could stand long against such sweetness and beauty."
Then, his energies having been spent in pacing awhile through the
frosty night, we turned our steps homewards. I gained ingress by means
of a small side door, the key of which I had in my pocket; and my lord
slept that night at the Three Cups, and rode forth in the morning;
whilst a white hand was waved for a moment from a window above the
yard, and then quickly withdrawn.
The next time that I was able, at Will Wiseman's eager instigation, to
find my way to Master Simpson's when a meeting had gathered there, I
saw Lord Vere enter arm in arm with Mr. Hewling; and Will gave my ribs
a triumphant dig with his elbow as he whispered joyfully,--
"See, we are getting nobles to join us at last. Mr. Hewling has
prevailed with my lord Vere."
I nodded, keeping my own counsel; but I had a shrewd notion that
something else besides the arguments and persuasions of Mr. Hewling had
prevailed to make a convert of the Viscount.