some measure subsided. "But remember, I will not answer for the
result. Only in cases of the greatest difficulty and trial it was
that the duchess made me resort to so dangerous a resource."
Most of his hearers besought him to desist. Simon yielded at once to
their entreaties, and the uplifted foot fell softly on the floor. Soft
and noiseless though it was, yet they saw a lurid mist roll upward;
and a form, apparently of gigantic size, was faintly visible in the
dark vapour, as it swept slowly through the apartment. Even Simon and
his royal pupil showed symptoms of agitation and alarm.
The assembly was suddenly dissolved. The proud ambassador of a prouder
prelate was astonished and bewildered, and hastily took his leave to
report these occurrences to his master.
The whole of these proceedings, in all probability, were but the
artful contrivance of an ambitious priest; and yet, connected as they
were with a female whose well-known predilection for the occult
sciences, and herself no mean adept therein, they assumed in those
ages of credulity and superstition more the character of miraculous
events than as happening in the common course and established order of
nature. The alarm of the king, too, evidently at the appearance of the
figure, caused some to say that it was the arch-enemy himself to whom
these conspirators had sold themselves.
In the meantime, Dick, having been delivered over to the tormentors,
was transferred to the prison or dungeon by the porch. He bore his
mishap with wondrous fortitude and equanimity. Many a strange inquiry
and silly speech did he make as he heard the sound of footsteps pass
the door, through which a few chinks admitted a doubtful glimmer into
his cell.
"I seay--hears to me, lad?" shouted he to a gruff Fleming, as he
passed to and fro before the entrance to his prison-house; but the
guard heeded him not. Dick listened; then, repeating his demand,
muttered certain conventional expressions, not over-nice either in
their form or application. He then began to sing, performing a series
of _cantabile_ movements in the most ludicrous manner possible;
sometimes chanting a _Miserere_ or an _Ave_, then breaking into some
wild northern ballad or roundelay of unintelligible import. It was in
the midst of a cadence which he was terminating with great earnestness
and effect that the first deep rumble, the result of Simon's appeal to
the truth and justice of their cause, interrupted Dick's vocal
dispositions for a while; but when the second concussion took place,
shaking the very stones in their sockets and the hard floor under his
feet, Dick ran whooping and bellowing round his den as though he had
been possessed, laughing, amid the wild uproar, like some demon
sporting fearlessly in the fierce turmoil of the troubled elements.
The sentinel ran, terrified, from the door, and the whole camp and
garrison were flying to arms, in fear and consternation. Dick,
drumming with his fist, found the door yield to his efforts, and he
marched forth without let or molestation. His besetting sin was
curiosity, which oftentimes led him into difficulties and mishaps.
Though just now a prisoner, and escaping by means little less than
miraculous, yet, instead of making the best use of this opportunity
for escape, he commenced a sort of prying adventure on his own
account--a temptation he could not resist--by walking, or rather
shuffling, into the guard-room, where his own peculiar crab-like
sinuosities were particularly available. A number of soldiers were
jabbering some unintelligible jargon, too much occupied with their own
clamour to notice Dick's proceedings.
Through a confused jumble of warlike implements, intermingled with
camp-kettles and cooking utensils, some steaming with savoury
preparations for the evening's repast, and others nearly ready for the
service, Dick insinuated himself, until he came to a little door in
the corner, the entrance to a staircase communicating with the leads
above. Through this door marched the incorrigible intruder--the sentry
from the summit having just issued therefrom, fearful lest the castle
should tumble about his ears. Dick's course was therefore unimpeded;
and after sundry gyrations and stoppages, now and then, to peep
through the loopholes, he emerged into broad daylight on the roof of
the tower. Here he paused for some time, entranced with the sudden
change he beheld. The bustle and animation around and below him; the
vessels, with their brave and gallant equipments, anchored in the
bay;--all this amused Dick vastly for a while. But the most
heart-ravishing delights end ultimately in satiety and disgust,
greater, and probably more keenly felt, the more they have been
relished and enjoyed. Dick began to feel listless and tired with his
day's work. He laid his head upon a groove or niche in the
battlements, and fell fast asleep. It seems the sentinel did not
return; for Dick remained undisturbed, and when he awoke it was
completely dark, save that there was a wan gleam from a dull watery
moon, just dipping into a stratum of dark clouds over the sea. His
ideas, not over-lucid in broad daylight, would necessarily be still
more hazy and obscure in his present situation. Unable to extricate
them, he rubbed his eyes and made faces; yawned and groped about for
his usual dormitory, in a little cell behind the kitchen at the abbey.
But the vision of the moon--which, by reason of the confined glen
wherein the abbey was built, rarely blessed the sight of a
night-watcher--was a wondrous and puzzling appearance. He had some
confused recollection that he had mounted a flight of steps, and that,
by contrary motion, descending would be the next consequent movement.
To this end he diligently sought an opening, and, naturally enough,
took the first that presented itself. Creeping round the angle of a
turret, he came to a flight of steps, which he descended. It was not
long ere he perceived a faint light through an aperture or chink in
the wall. He pressed against the side cautiously, when the wall itself
appeared to give way, and he entered, through a narrow door, into a
large room, lighted by a few turf embers, that flickered dimly on the
hearth. A tester bed was near him, whose grim shadow concealed the
objects under its huge canopy. It was the king's chamber; but so
softly and cautiously was the entrance effected that Dick's footsteps
did not awake him. He was heard, nevertheless, by the priest Simon,
who, being concealed by the curtains on the other side, was not seen
by the intruder. Dick stood still, on being addressed in a low and
suppressed voice as follows:--
"Thou art early, Maurice; but thy despatches are ready. They are on
the chair at thy right hand. Thou hast had thy instructions. Be speedy
and discreet. On the third day, ere sunset, we look for thy return."
Dick put out his hand and laid hold of a sealed packet, which he took
with becoming gravity, and luckily in silence.
"The same password, 'Warwick,' will convey thee hence; a boat is in
waiting, and so God speed," said the priest.
Dick returned by the way he came, and descending the turret staircase,
found a sentry standing at the outlet into the guard-chamber. It was
dark, and Dick's person was not recognised. With a sort of blundering
instinct he gave the word and passed on. This magic sound conveyed him
safely through bars, bolts, and all other impediments. The drawbridge
was lowered, and Dick, in a little time, found himself again upon the
beach, where a boat was waiting to carry him to the opposite shore.
"Who goes there?" inquired a gruff voice from the skiff.
"Why Dick--Warwick," cried the blundering knave, nigh mistaking his
cue.
"Hang thee," said the ferryman, "what art' ganging o' this gait for?
If I'd ken'd it waur thee 'at I'd orders to lie by in shore for, thou
might ha' waited a wee for aught 'at I'd ha' brought."
"Hush!" said Dick, full of importance from his newly-acquired
diplomatic functions; "I'm message to the king yonder."
"Ill betides him that has need o' thee," said the boatman,
surlily;--"come, jump in. They'd need of a hawk, marry, to catch a
buzzard."
Just as Dick was preparing to step in, a low, slight-made figure
passed by whom the boatman immediately challenged.
"Warwick!" said he, and would have passed on.
"Nay, nay," said Dick; "I'm Warwick, ma lad; there's no twa on us;
they gied me that name i' the castle yon, just now. I'se butter'd if
thou shall ha't too." Dick was a powerful fellow, and he collared the
other in a twinkling. "Thou'rt a rogue, I tell thee, an' about no
good; an' I've orders from the governor yonder to tak' thee. Bear a
hand, boatie, and in wi' him. There--there."
Spite of his struggles and imprecations, the stranger was impounded in
the boat, and Dick soon forced him to be quiet. They pushed off, and
in a short time gained the other shore. Here Dick, with that almost
instinctive sagacity which sometimes accompanies a disturbed state of
the intellects, would not allow his prisoner either to go back to the
island or remain in the boatman's custody, but secured him to his own
person, setting off at a brisk pace towards the abbey. In vain the
stranger told him that he had business of great moment at the castle;
that he was a page of the court, and on the eve of a secret mission
from the priest, who was now waiting for him with the despatches. Dick
resolved, with his usual cunning it seems, to conceal his possession
of these documents, and, at the same time, to prevent the real
messenger from revealing the deception by his appearance at the
castle.
It was past midnight; yet the abbot and several of the brethren were
still assembled in close council. The importance of the events that
were unfolding, and in which their own line of conduct was to be
firmly marked out and adhered to, necessarily involving much
deliberation and discussion, had kept them beyond their usual hour of
retirement.
A bell rung at the outer gate, and shortly afterwards one of the
brotherhood in waiting announced that two men were without, craving
audience, and that one of them, when asked his name, answered
"Warwick."
"Ah!" said the bewildered abbot, with a sudden gleam of wonder and
gladness on his countenance--"does he come hither? then is our
deliverance nearer than we hoped for, even from the special favour and
interference of Heaven. Admit them instantly."
But in a little while the messenger came back in great dudgeon to say
that the knave who had demanded admittance with such a peremptory
message was none other than Dick Empson, the errand boy to the abbey.
"What can possess him," continued the monk, "I greatly marvel; for he
still persists in demanding audience, saying that he is 'Warwick.' He
refers to some message from the castle with which he is charged, but
he refuses to deliver it save into the hands of the reverend abbot
himself. Furthermore, he has brought a prisoner, he sayeth, and will
have him taken into safe custody."
"Why, bring him hither," said the abbot; "there's little harm can come
by it. He has a shrewd and quick apprehension at times, under that
silly mask, which I have thought he wears but for purposes of knavery
and concealment."
The monk folded his hands and retired. Returning, he was followed by
Dick, who assumed a very grave and solemn demeanour before this august
and reverend assembly.
"Why art thou abroad in these evil times, and at such improper hours
too? To the meanest of our servants it is not permitted. Speak. Thine
errand?"
The abbot looked towards the offender with an air of displeasure; but
Dick, hitching up his hosen with prodigious fervour, gave a loud and
expressive grunt.
"Dick is a fool," said he; "but he ne'er begged benison of an abbot, a
bone from a starved dog, or a tithe-pig from a parson."
"What is the message wherewith thou hast presumed upon our audience?"
"If ye rear your back to a door, see to it that it be greatly tyned,
or ye may get a broken head for trust."
"And is this thy message, sirrah? Hark ye, let this fool be put i' the
stocks, and well whipped."
"And who'll be the fule body then?" said Dick, leering. "I ken ye be
readier wi' a taste o' the gyves than oatmeal bannocks; an' sae I'se
gang awa' to my mither."
"Thou shalt go to the whipping-post first."
"Haud off," shouted Dick, who flung aside the person that would have
seized him with the most consummate ease, at the same time placing
himself in the attitude of defence; "haud off, as ye are true men,"
said he; "I'm cousin to the king, and I charge ye with high treason!"
"Enough," said the abbot; "we may pity his infirmity; but let him be
sent to the mill for punishment. Now to business, which I fear me hath
suffered by this untimely interruption."
"Happen you'll let me be one of the guests," said the incorrigible
Dick, thrusting himself forward, even to the abbot's chair, which so
discomposed his reverence that he cried in a loud and authoritative
tone--
"Will none of ye rid me of this pestilence? By the beard of St
Cuthbert, I will dispose of him, and that presently!"
Seizing him by the shoulder, the abbot would have thrust him forth,
but Dick slipped dexterously aside. Taking out the packet, he broke
open the seals, and immediately began to tumble about the contents,
seating himself at the same time in the vacant chair of the abbot,
with great solemnity, and an air of marvellous profundity in his
demeanour. It was the work of a few moments only; a pause of silent
astonishment ensued, when the abbot's eye, catching, from their
appearance, something of the nature of the documents, he started
forward with great eagerness and surprise. He snatched them from the
hands of their crack-brained possessor, and soon all other matters
were forgotten. The abbot in breathless haste ran through the
contents. The assembly was all eye and ear, and some were absolutely
paralysed with wonder. There was not an indifferent observer but Dick,
who, with a chuckling laugh, rubbed his hands, and fidgeted about in
the chair with a look of almost infantile delight.
"I've done it brawly, ha'n't I? Dick wi' the lang neb! an' I'll hae
two messes o' parritch an' sour milk, an' a barley-cake; I'm waesome
hungry i' the waum here."
The abbot was too deeply involved in the subject before him to heed a
craving appetite. Dick's stomach, however, was not to be silenced by
diplomatic food; not having tasted anything for a considerable time,
his wants immediately assumed the language of inquiry.
"Old dad, ha' ye any bones to pick? I'd like to have a lick at the
trencher."
The abbot made signals that he should not be disturbed; but Dick was
not to be put off or convinced by such unsubstantial arguments, and
they were fain to rid themselves from further annoyance by ordering
him into the kitchen, where he was speedily absorbed in devouring a
pan of browis, left there for morning use--the breakfast of the
labourers about the abbey.
During this interval matters of the deepest importance were discussed,
the contents of the packet having furnished abundant materials for
deliberation. When the bearer was effectually replenished, he was led
into the council-chamber again, where the abbot, in a tone of deep and
serious thought, thus addressed him:--
"Who gave thee these despatches? It is plain they were not meant for
our eyes; but Heaven, by the weakest instrument, often works the
mightiest and most important events. Where and how came they into thy
keeping?"
Dick looked cunningly round the apartment ere he replied, surveying
the floor, the walls, and the ceiling; even the groinings of the roof
did not escape a minute and accurate examination; whether to give time
for the contriving of a suitable reply, or merely to gratify his own
peevish humour, is of little consequence that we should inquire. After
a long and anxious silence on the part of his auditors, he replied--
"I told ye when ye spiered afore." Another pause. The abbot was
fearful that Dick's ideas, if not carefully handled, might get so
entangled and confused that he would be unable to give any
intelligible account of the matter. He therefore addressed him
coaxingly as follows--
"Nay, nay, Dickon, thou hast not; answer me now, and thou shalt have
the fat from the roast to-morrow, and a sop to season it withal."
Dick leered again at this prospective dainty, as he replied--
"I tou'd ye, and ye heeded not, belike; and who's the fool now? Come,
I'll set you my riddle again. If ye set your back to a door, see that
it be tyned, or ye may get a broken head, and then"----
Here he paused, and looked round with a vacant eye; but they wisely
forbore to interrupt the current of his ideas, hoping that ere long
they might trickle into the right channel.
"There was a big room, and a bed in it," he continued, "and a priest,
which the fule body has cheated. A fule's wit is worth more nor a wise
man's folly."
A vague apprehension of the truth crossed the abbot's mind. Being now
on the right scent, he no longer forbore to follow up the chase, but
endeavoured to hasten the development by a gentle stimulating of his
pace in the required direction.
"The priest yonder at the castle gave it thee?" said the abbot
carelessly.
"Well, and if he did," replied Dick sharply, "he didna ken I was
a-peeping into his chamber, as I've done many an unlucky time here in
the abbey, and gotten a good licking for my pains."
"To whom was it sent?"
"Ask the bairn yon', that I ha' brought by th' scut o' th' neck. He
woudna come bout tugging for."
"Was he the messenger?" asked Roger, the abbot's secretary and prime
agent.
"Help thine ignorant face, father!--I was peeping about, you see, in
the dark. The priest thought it waur the laddy yonder, a-comin' for
his bag; so he gied it me, and tou'd me to carry it safe, but forgot
to grease my pate forbye wi' the direction. I ken'd ye could read
aught at the abbey here, and so ye may e'en run wi' it to the right
owner for yere pains."
The cunning knave glossed over his treachery with this excuse; for he
evidently knew better, and had a notion that he should serve his
masters by this piece of diplomatic craft.
"Thou mayest depart, and ere morrow we will give thee a largess for
thy dexterity."
Dick did not care to be long a-snuffing the chill air of the vaults
and passages after his dismissal, but in a warm cell near the kitchen
fire he was soon wrapped in the delights of oblivion. Such, however,
was the importance of the documents he had so strangely intercepted,
that a messenger was immediately despatched to London with a packet
for the Privy Council.
The same morning, with the early dawn, the abbot and his secretary
were together in the cloisters. It was a fitting place and opportunity
either for intrigue or devotion, and many a masterstroke of church
policy has issued from those dim and sepulchral arches in "the Glen of
the deadly Nightshade."
"Craft is needful, yea laudable," said the abbot, "when we would cope
with worldly adversaries, unless we could work miracles for our
deliverance. But since in these degenerate ages of the church they
have, I fear me, ceased, we must e'en employ the means that Heaven has
put into our hands: and if I mistake not, this envoy of ours will be a
skilful craftsman for the purpose. Under that garb of silly speech
there's a cunning and a wary spirit. Thou didst note well his
ready-witted contrivance last night."
"Yea, and the skill too with which he compassed his expedients, and
the ingenuity that prevented the disclosure of his treachery, in
arresting the real messenger, and thus keeping them in the dark at the
castle yonder until we have had time to countervail their plots. Could
he be made to play his part according to our instructions, an agent
like him were worth having. Besides he knows every chink and cranny
about the castle, so that he could jump on them unawares."
"I am not much given to implicit credence in supernatural devices,"
said the abbot, "or visible manifestations of the arch-enemy; yet have
our chronicles not scrupled to give their testimony to the truth of
such appearances; and it is, moreover, plain, from the papers we have
read, that the conspirators themselves believe in the existence of
some supernatural presence amongst them, by which they are holpen."
He drew a billet from his bosom:--"I have kept this writing alone, as
thou knowest," continued the abbot, "for our guidance. Listen again to
the confessions of yonder rebellious and it may be credulous priest:--
"We are sure of success. The noble Margaret hath, by her wondrous art,
together with the exercise of prayer and fasting, fenced us about as
with a triple barrier, that no earthly might shall overcome. A power
attends us that will magnify our cause, and lay our foes prostrate.
'Tis a mystery even to us, but a being appears unexpectedly at times,
and by his counsels we are guided. We know not whence he comes, nor
whither he goes; but his path is with us, and his presence, though
generally invisible, not without terror, even to ourselves."
"'Tis a strange delusion this, if it be one; for it is plain they have
been ably counselled. Whilst they retain the castle their position may
be reckoned as impregnable. It is a powerful support, on which they
have placed the lever of their rebellion."
"And in what way purpose you to entice them from it? Methinks it were
in vain to make the attempt, if guarded and counselled by supernatural
advisers."
"I believe in no such improbabilities. Listen. We have heard, as thou
knowest, that a strange figure, muffled in close garments, steals
forth, at times, by the southern cliff into the passage there, under
the foundations. This, doubtless, will be the emissary referred to in
the despatch. 'Tis of a surety some person about the camp, concealed,
in all likelihood, even from the leaders themselves; but employed by
yonder ambitious restless woman, to control and direct their
operations by a pretendedly miraculous and supernatural influence. It
is the way in which the vulgar and the superstitious are most easily
led. Fanaticism is a powerful engine wherewith to combine and wield
the scattered energies of the multitude. Besides, their plans are well
laid, as we have seen by the despatches, and many and powerful are the
helps by which they hope to accomplish their designs. Should they
succeed, our destruction is certain. Yet could we draw them forth from
our fortress, we might look to the issue undisturbed. The king will
then dispose of them, and few will dare to interrupt us in the quiet
possession of our privileges."
"How purpose you to entice them forth?" again inquired the secretary.
"If properly tutored, our messenger from the kitchen, Dick Empson,
will doubtless be a fitting agent for this deed. He must be well
furnished with means and appliances against discovery."
"Leave him to my care. I can work with untoward tools, and make them
useful too upon occasion."
"The prisoner, whom he so craftily seized and brought hither, is yet
safe in the dungeon?"
"He is, my lord."
"There he must lie, at any rate, until our plans be accomplished."
"We know not yet unto whom these communications were to have been
conveyed."
"No; but doubtless, from their tenor, to some person of great note. It
may have been to one even about the person of royalty itself, for this
treason hath deep root, and its branches are widely spread throughout
the land."
"Shall we put him to the question?"
"Nay, let present difficulties be brought to issue first; afterwards
we shall be able to inquire, and with more certainty, as to the line
of examination we should pursue."
The speakers separated, one to communicate with Dick Empson, and
prepare him for the important functions he would have to perform; the
other to his lodgings, where he might ruminate undisturbed on the
events then about to transpire, and of which he hoped, finally, to
reap the advantage.