BAFFLED.
IF Miles could only have followed his own wishes he would have started
on his journey to Oxford without a day's delay, but he was not master
of the situation, and had to be guided by what the Cardinal deemed
best under the circumstances; and so he had to wait until his master's
messengers returned, bringing news of where Cicely had been lodged.
There was also other business to be transacted, that they might carry
out their work of inspection as the duly accredited commissioners of
His Eminence; so that it was nearly a week before they could start with
a retinue befitting the office they had been invested with, and this
involved a slower progress than was altogether pleasant to Miles, who
was impatient to press on with all the speed possible.
But at last the scene for which his eyes had sorely longed gradually
rose before him. The stately tower of Magdalen College was the first
bit of the landscape that greeted his eager eyes, and the towers of the
city, and then at last they were winding along by the river bank, and
the walls of Magdalen were passed. Then Merton, and Balliol, and the
stately Cardinal College were passed on their way to the hostelry where
lodgings had been secured for them.
Here Miles met with his first disappointment, for the host had not
heard of Mistress Margery Paton coming to his house, and Miles had made
sure that she would be there before him, and his father with her; now
he began to fear that his father might refuse to come himself, or allow
Margery to come.
Fortunately he had little time to worry about this, for his master's
orders had been explicit,—that they should at once commence the
inquisition into the condition of the smaller monasteries around,
and so at daybreak the next morning the two commissioners presented
themselves at a monastery Miles had not heard mentioned until they
arrived at its gates. Quite another convent was to be the first to
receive them, he understood; and he was quite as much astonished as the
lay sister herself, who peered through the wicket of the gate, and then
hastened to open it, with trembling fingers, when she heard who were
outside.
Master Baldock, his companion, gave the sister no time to warn the
authorities inside, but the moment the gate was open he pushed his way
in, and bade her keep her post at the door, saying he would announce
himself to the Mother-Superior.
The next moment they found themselves in the midst of a group of
novices passing through the corridor on their way to the garden, and
one of these stood still, with bated breath, as her eyes fell upon
Miles Paton, while he was scarcely less moved. But, quick as the glance
had been between the two lovers, the older commissioner had seen it,
and noted the girl as she passed, silent and depressed, with her
companions into the garden.
The sight of the Cardinal's commissioners caused such a flutter among
the nuns and novices that the Mother-Superior was waiting to receive
them by the time they reached her parlour; and she met them suavely
enough, but complained that she had not been informed of their coming,
that the community might have received them with becoming respect, as
they would have wished.
Master Baldock bowed, and was equally suave, but said he was bound to
obey to the letter the commands of his master, and these had left him
no time to announce his arrival, as they had but reached their lodging
just before nightfall the previous day.
The Lady-Superior knew this as well as he did, for, suddenly as the
commission had been despatched, notice had been given to the convent
to be visited; for the system of espionage was not confined to the
Cardinal, and he knew there were spies in his household, who reported
all his movements to those whom it concerned, so that the monasteries
and convents around Oxford were expecting the visit they were supposed
to know nothing about.
But the commissioner's first words evidently took the lady by surprise:
"You will summon all the novices resident in your house; I will examine
these first," said Master Baldock. And he bade his assistant take out
his ink-horn, and prepare to write down the names of the ladies as they
appeared before him.
"Nay, but they are children, not used to the rough methods of men. I
will answer for them that they may be spared, for the minds of some are
over frivolous, and not much given to serious things, or to speak with
men."
But Master Baldock was not disposed to bandy many words with this lady,
or give her time to spirit away any of the girls; and so he cut short
her argument by saying, "I am but the servant of the Cardinal Legate,
and his orders I must obey with all the despatch possible, therefore
summon the maidens here. My assistant will take down their names and
condition, and where their friends dwell, and then I will give you a
week to send them to their homes."
The lady almost screamed at the announcement "Send my children away
from me!" she gasped, her strong masculine face working with passion,
as she clenched her hands as though she would tear the hair of the man
who dared to impose his will upon her.
[Illustration: "Madam, one of your novices has not taken her place with
the rest," said Master Baldock.]
But she soon found that it was useless to struggle against this man.
The calm, benevolent face that she thought gave promise of an easily
swayed will behind it, proved to be but as a velvet glove on a hand
of steel. The Cardinal always chose his instruments wisely, and they
were fitted by nature, as well as by training, for the work they
were deputed to perform; and so the lady was obliged to send for the
novices, and see them ranged in a line before these two men, and in
a moment the absence of one was detected by the elder, almost before
Miles himself could feel certain that Cicely was not among them.
"Madam, one of your novices has not taken her place with the rest,"
said Master Baldock, as he looked keenly along the line of shrinking
girls.
"She does not wish to expose herself to the gaze of men," said the
lady, defiantly, and at the moment the door was pushed open by an
elderly nun, and the faint sound of shrieks were heard in the distance.
In a moment Miles had sprung from his seat and darted to the door to
go to the rescue, for he felt sure that it was Cicely calling for him
to help her; but the Lady-Superior reached the door first, and shut it
in his face, and the two stood glaring at each other for a moment in
silence.
If she had been a man, or even a woman in secular life, Miles would
have hurled himself upon her and dragged her from the door; but her
sacred habit was still sacred to him, and he shrunk from laying his
hand rudely upon a nun. He shook like a tree beaten in a storm, as he
watched the hard relentless face, and thought of his darling being in
the power of this woman, and he unable to lift hand or foot to help
her, tied and bound as he was by the superstitious reverence, in which
he had been reared, for the sacred vocation of a nun.
Even Master Baldock was relieved to see that his assistant had
sufficient self-control to keep him from what he would have regarded as
the sacrilege of using violence to a pledged recluse, and he said, in a
calm tone, "My friend would fain have saved the lady from the peril she
must have been in, but doubtless the holy sisters of this house have
gone to her relief."
"Of course they have," replied the lady, haughtily, and she remained
master of the field, while Miles felt himself hopelessly beaten.
He was so torn by contending emotions that he scarcely understood what
his chief was saying for the next minute or two. He returned to his
seat, and resumed the cutting of the quill for writing his list of the
novices, and then, as he gradually grew calm, he heard Master Baldock
say, "You will summon the other novice, Cicely Guildford, to our
presence."
The Lady-Superior started when she heard the name, and even Miles—who
knew him to be one of the Cardinal's most trusted secretaries—was
amazed at the calm assurance with which he pronounced her name, until
his next words unravelled the mystery.
"How do you know the maiden you name has found a shelter in this
house?" demanded the Mother.
"Because I have seen her. I have known her from a child, and am the
bearer of a message from her parents, which the Cardinal has commanded
me to deliver."
The lady looked greatly disturbed for a moment, but at length she said,
"I will fetch this Cicely Guildford, since you are set upon seeing her;
but I pray you be gentle in your questioning of her, for she is not
over strong, and hath been ill of late."
"Do not fear that we shall be rough in our questioning, and be not long
absent, for I am not of the most patient mind, and already you have
sorely hindered me in my master's work."
The lady nodded, and withdrew, and Miles took the opportunity of asking
his friend if he thought he should know Mistress Cicely. "You have seen
her among the Queen's ladies, of course, but are you sure you would
know my Cicely?" said Miles, earnestly, but in a whisper.
"Be content; Cicely is my sister's child, and I never forget a face I
have once seen," answered Master Baldock, in a reassuring whisper.
They were kept waiting for some few minutes, but at last the Mother
came back, leading by the hand a girl, who looked timidly up at the two
men seated at the table in the middle of the room. The girl was attired
in the dress of a novice, but one glance at her face assured both of
them that it was not Cicely, and Master Baldock said, in a stern tone,
"Look at me, and tell me your true name. You are not Cicely Guildford,"
and the man fastened his eyes on the girl's face, as if to compel her
to speak the truth.
The plan succeeded. "I am Amy Taylor," she said, in a faltering tone,
not daring to look at the Mother-Superior, who stood at the back of her.
"Well, Amy Taylor, tell me where your friends live, and if you know
what dowry was paid with you when you came to this house."
But the girl could only shake her head at these questions. She had
lived with the sisters at the convent all her life, she said. She would
be a novice by-and-bye, she hoped, but now she only helped the lay
sisters. In short, she was the little drudge of the household, who had
been hastily fetched from the kitchen, and dressed in the habit of a
novice for the occasion, and these facts the commissioner soon elicited
from the frightened girl.
"You may go back to the kitchen now, my little wench," said the
commissioner. "I have no wish to take a useful servant away from
these ladies." Then, turning to the Mother once more, he said, "Will
you fetch me the true Cicely, or shall I have to close this house in
consequence of the rebellion of its Superior to the command of the
Cardinal Legate, who administers the affairs of the Church in this
realm as the Holy Father himself." He felt obliged to remind the lady
that he was armed with power to put a summary end to her rule, in the
hope that the hint would be taken, and the true Cicely produced.
Finding that the commissioner was not to be hoodwinked, and would not
proceed to the other part of his work until the girl he asked for was
brought before him, she at last reluctantly sent one of the elder nuns,
who had come to take charge of the novices while they were waiting,
to fetch Cicely; and this time there was no mistaking the sweet, shy
face Miles had learned to love. But it was sadly changed. There was a
deep and abiding look of sorrow in the large grey eyes, and deep rings
beneath told of broken health and sleepless nights; while the look
of terror that mantled her face when the Mother-Superior spoke, was
sufficient to tell both men what she had endured although she had been
here such a short time.
As Cicely drew near the table the Mother contrived to change her
position, and sit so that she could command a view of the girl, and
also make her feel that she was being watched.
So when Master Baldock said, "Now, Cicely Guildford, I have come by
the command of my Lord Cardinal to ask you some questions, which your
father would have propounded to you if his duty to the King would have
suffered him to come with me on this journey. First, are you happy in
this household?"
But, instead of answering at once, Cicely glanced timidly round at the
elder lady, and then slowly answered, in a mechanical tone.
"Madam, I must request you to change your seat, and leave my witness to
answer me alone."
"I have not spoken to the witness," said the Mother, indignantly.
"But you are frightening her, and if you do not move I shall send the
whole of these girls to their friends without further parley."
So the lady moved, and the commissioner took care that the girl kept
her eyes upon him or Miles.
Without betraying the secret of either of them, he contrived to draw
from the girl the confession that she was very unwilling to enter upon
a monastic life when the time came for her to leave home; and, though
she was heartily ashamed to confess it, she would greatly prefer to
live a secular life than be a nun.
She did not make any complaints of the treatment she had received since
she had been here, but it was easy to see that the girl was unhappy;
and a glad light beamed in her eyes when Master Baldock, turning to his
assistant, said, "Mistress Cicely will be returned to her father, and,
as I have his authority to take charge of her, she must come back to
the hostelry with us." To the Lady-Superior he said, "If a lay sister
can attend her I will take the charge of her as well."
"What do you mean? I cannot allow you to remove any of these children
of God out of my care."
"But you forget I have the authority of the Cardinal Legate for this,"
said the commissioner, calmly. And then he motioned Cicely aside, and
called one of the other girls before him. Similar questions were asked
and answered; and among the twenty novices there two only wished to
remain. The rest had grown tired of the life that had been pictured to
them as one of exalted piety, but which they found to be so different
on a fuller knowledge of it.
They all hoped they might be taken to the hostelry as well as Cicely,
but this did not suit the plans of the commissioners, and they simply
received a promise that they should be sent to their friends in the
course of a week, when they could be sent under proper escort, and
arrangements had been made for them to be welcomed home once more.
Then the storm began over Cicely again. The Mother protested that she
must not be separated from her companions until her father came to
fetch her.
In vain Master Baldock explained that the King's business would not
permit him to take such a long journey; and, moreover, that the journey
was needless, as he was her uncle, and duly authorised to take her into
his care. At first the lady would not hear of such a thing; and when,
at last, she was forced to yield a reluctant consent, she said the
girls were all faint and in want of food, and Cicely must have a meal,
and be wrapped up from the observation of passengers in the streets, or
there might be some disturbance in the town over the matter.
This precaution was certainly necessary if they would escape
observation as they passed through the streets, which would be thronged
with students now; and the commissioner blamed himself for not thinking
of this.
So he thanked the lady, and Cicely passed out of the room with the
rest, and Miles packed up his things for that day, eager now to reach
the hostelry, and ascertain whether his sister had arrived yet. If she
had not, he would go in search of Rankin, and see if his wife could
not come to attend upon the young lady until some more suitable friend
could be found.
He would fain have gone on first to ascertain this point, but his
friend declined to be left alone with these ladies. "I would not have
my life at the mercy of that Lady-Superior, and I would not leave you
in her power, and so, for the same reason, I decline to be left here by
myself," he said, in a jocular way.
At length a nun summoned them to the gate, where, she said, Cicely was
awaiting them; and there she stood when they appeared, muffled up to
the eyes, so that the most prying and impudent of students could not
catch a glimpse of the sweet, shy face; and she walked between the two
men without asking a question as to how far she was to go, or how all
the friends at Greenwich were faring.
Judging her by himself, Miles was not surprised at this silence, for
he had no wish to talk, and, indeed, the state of the roads, and the
rushing parties of students compelled them to give more attention to
the passengers around them than to each other.
Cicely walked very slowly now, Miles thought. Remembering how she had
climbed the hills with him in Greenwich Park, her lagging steps now
made him think that she must be very weak through the fasts she had
been keeping, or else she was very tired.
At last their hostelry was reached, and then Master Baldock hastily
seized the cloak she was wearing, and tore it off her head.
"I thought so! I thought so!" he exclaimed. "Fool that I have been to
trust a nun," for there stood revealed before them the demure face of
an elderly nun, instead of Cicely Guildford!