Perhaps it was the memory of those spiteful and malicious glances
bent upon his preceptor by Brother Fabian that suggested to Edred
upon the day following to pay a visit to the secret chamber that
had once before so well sheltered a helpless fugitive.
The secret of that chamber still remained with the three boys and
their faithful esquire, Warbel. To no other living soul in the
house had any of these four ever named the matter. The boys might
not have been able to give any reason for this reticence towards
their parents, but the fact remained that they had never revealed
the secret to them, and that although tradition still spoke of a
cleverly-masked chamber somewhere at Chad, it was now popularly
supposed to have been in that part of the house which had boon
demolished during the Wars of the Roses. Children did not chatter
to their parents in days of old as they do now. They might love
them never so well, but they held them in reverence and even in
awe. They were silent in their presence, as a rule, unless spoken
to first, and the habit of conversational intimacy did not grow up
until a much later period in their lives. Thus the adventures of
Warbel, and his strange midnight visit to their bedchamber, had
never been told to Sir Oliver or his wife. All they knew was that
the man had taken refuge from the anger of the Lord of Mortimer in
one of their woodmen's huts. They were glad to give him shelter and
employment at Chad, and had never regretted the hospitality
extended to him; for he had proved the most faithful of servants,
and his devotion to the boys was so great that they could be
trusted anywhere in his keeping.
As for the anger of his proud neighbour, Sir Oliver had made light
of that. The Lord of Mortimer could not make any thing out of so
small a matter, and at that time had other more weighty affairs on
hand. Warbel's stories to his fellows of the harshness and
tyrannical rule at Mortimer made his own servants more loyal and
stanch than ever. Chad was a peaceable and happy abode for all its
inmates, and the need for secret hiding places had so far never
arisen.
The boys in years gone by had almost regretted this fact. They had
pictured so vividly how they would hide their father or some friend
of his in this secret chamber, should peril menace them from any
quarter, that it had seemed sometimes almost a pity that so secure
a hiding place should be of so little use, when it might have done
such excellent service had the need arisen.
However, as years sped by and the lads began to know more of life,
they ceased to regret that the secret chamber remained without an
occupant. From time to time they visited it, swept out the dust and
cobwebs that had accumulated there, and bit by bit collected a few
more odds and ends of furniture, so that the place now wore a look
of greater comfort and habitation than it had done when they saw it
first.
Once when Edred had been laid up by an accident to his foot, he had
amused himself by making a number of feather pillows from the
feathers of the birds his brothers shot and brought home to him.
These feathers were dressed in the proper way by the boys
themselves, and then made up into large pillows or cushions, which
were then taken up to the secret chamber (at that time the
favourite hobby of the boys), in order to make restful and
comfortable the hard pallet bed, in case any fugitive were forced
to take shelter there. In the same way had several rudely-made
rugs, formed of the skins of wild bears taken in the woods, and
tanned by the boys in a fashion of their own, found their way
thither; and altogether the place had assumed an aspect of some
comfort and even luxury, although it was now several years since
any further additions had been made to its plenishings.
Edred looked round the strange apartment with a thoughtful air as
he emerged into it from the long, dark, twisting passage he had
threaded with the security of one to whom every winding and turn
was known. It was dim and dark there, but sufficient light filtered
in through cracks and cleverly-contrived apertures to render it
easy to move about; and when the eye grew used to the dimness,
everything could be seen with pretty fair distinctness.
"It would not be a bad hiding place," mused the boy, speaking half
aloud. "Methinks over there one could even read without much
trouble. Yes, without doubt one could; and that crack might be
judiciously enlarged without any peril. It does but give upon the
leads behind the main chimney stack, and the tiles would cover any
aperture I made."
He took out his large hunting knife from his girdle as he spoke,
and worked away awhile in silence. Very soon he had considerably
added to the amount of light in the strange room. He eyed his
handiwork with considerable satisfaction.
"That is better. It would be something gloomy to be shut up here
without light enough to study by; but with books and food one might
spend many a week here and not be overwhelmed with dullness. The
place is something straight, to be sure, and there is bare room for
a tall man to stand upright."
Edred drew himself to his full height, and found that his head did
not quite reach the beams which formed the ceiling.
"I trow Brother Emmanuel could just stand; he is not greatly taller
than I. And he is marvellous contented with a very little, and has
been used to passing days and weeks in the solitude of his cell.
Sure this would not be to him an evil place. If he had but a book
or two and the needful food, he would be vastly content.
"I wonder if he can be in any sort of peril. I liked not the looks
or the words of you malicious monk. Our father and mother often say
that these be times when men must walk warily, and ofttimes they
tell of godly men even in high places who have fallen into disgrace
and been accused of fearful sins. It is not safe in these days to
have for enemies those who are within the pale of the Church--monks
and priors, men who are held up as examples and models of true
faith and piety.
"I know not whether they merit the praise men give to them.
Methinks Brother Emmanuel could teach them many things both in
precept and practice. But it is not for me to be the judge in such
matters; yet if he were in any kind of peril, I would lay down my
life to save him!"
The boy's eyes kindled at the thought. He cherished for his
preceptor an ardent and enthusiastic love, and he had his share of
that chivalrous devotion and self-sacrifice which has been the
brightest ornament of days that have much of darkness and cruelty
to disgrace them.
His face wore a very earnest look as he set about his homely task
of cleaning and setting in order this secret chamber. He was more
than two hours over his task, for he went through it with unwonted
energy. The place looked almost tempting before he had done with
it, and he looked about him with satisfied eyes at the close of his
labours.
There was a convenient spout, meant to carry off the rain water
from the complex level of the old roof, which made an excellent
substitute for a dust shoot. It could be got at from this place
without difficulty, and Edred shot down his rubbish without any
trouble through a funnel-like piece of wood he and his brothers had
contrived for the purpose many years before. Then he stood quite
still at the aperture whence the soft breeze came blowing in, lost
in thought.
"It doth get very hot here in the summer days," he remarked, "and
in especial at this end of the room, where it abuts upon the leads.
It is cooler yonder, but then it is also darker. The air and the
light come in at this side, but so does the heat likewise. And how
thirsty one gets, too! My throat is parched and dry. I mind me how
poor Warbel suffered in like manner when he was here. Food could be
brought in without trouble. I will amass even now by slow degrees
some of those hard oaten cakes that keep good for weeks, and some
salted venison that would last the winter through.
"But water--how could that be brought? Suppose that we too were
watched; suppose we dared not go through the secret door? What
would become of the prisoner?
"I must talk to Bertram and Julian about that. Bertram has a
wonderful gift for getting out of such difficulties; he has a
marvellous quick wit. We never thought in old days how the water
was to be conveyed; we thought a few bottles of wine would last a
lifetime. But to die of thirst would be worse than to face one's
foes. I shall not really rest till I have thought how such a danger
might be guarded against."
Edred left the place with a thoughtful air. He gained their own
long sleeping room without adventure. Nobody was ever there at this
hour of the day, and he sat down on his bed to think and plan.
There his brothers found him later when they came rushing up
tumultuously to find him.
"Ha! thou art there. We have been seeking thee everywhere. What
hast thou been doing, brother?"
"I have been up to the room," answered the boy. "I have been making
it all ready. I was something disturbed by what chanced
yester-afternoon. I told thee of Brother Fabian and his evil
looks?"
The other two nodded.
"Yes, verily; but they be brothers of one fraternity. Surely one
Benedictine would not hurt another?"
"I know not that. I was talking this day with Warbel. He has been
about in the world. He has seen priests and monks accused of heresy
the one by the other; and none are so fearfully persecuted as those
who wear the tonsure, if men do but suspect them of that sin.
"Brother Emmanuel a heretic!" cried Bertram, with flashing eyes. "I
would force the word down the false throat of any who dared to say
so! Brother Emmanuel is a right holy man. Art thou mad, Edred, to
think such a thing?"
The boy shook his head doubtfully.
"I would I were," he replied; "but methinks Brother Emmanuel
himself thinks that peril may menace him. I understand not rightly
these matters; but I saw that yesterday upon his face which showed
me that he felt he stood something in peril, albeit he has no fear.
He is not of the stuff of which cowards are made."
Julian's eyes were wide with affright.
"They say the Lollards and heretics are to be sought out and
burned, and that right soon," he said, in low, awe-struck tones.
"Some of our people heard it today from those at Mortimer. The Lord
of Mortimer has become very zealous to help the priests and monks
to scent out all suspected of heresy and make a great example of
them.
"Edred, thou dost not think they will take Brother
Emmanuel--and--burn--him?"
The last words were little more than a whisper.
"I will die sooner than see it done!" cried the boy passionately.
"But in these days no man may say who is safe. Therefore went I up
to the chamber this very day to set it in order;" and then he told
his brothers of the difficulty that had beset him there, and how he
felt no security for any person in hiding there so long as the
difficulty of conveying water to him remained so great.
Bertram grasped the situation in a moment. He well knew that if any
person were suspected of lying hidden in the house, a close watch
might well be kept upon every member of the household, and that it
might be hard indeed to pay more than a very occasional visit to
the prisoner. If, for instance, suspicion were to fall upon the
boys in this matter, it would be probable they would be placed
under some restraint; they might be carried off to the priory and
forced to do some penance there. It would never do for the prisoner
to be entirely dependent upon them for supplies of the precious
commodity; and yet what else was to be done?
"I must think about it," cried Bertram. "I shall never rest till I
have thought of some method. Would we had not left it so long! We
have had all these years to make our plans, and we have never
thought of this thing till trouble seems like to be at the very
doors.
"Still it may but be our fantasy. Neither Brother Emmanuel nor any
other may need the shelter of this room. We will trust it may be
so.
"Yet I will cudgel my brains for a plan. It would be a fearful
thing to know him to be shut up here, and yet to be unable to visit
him with the necessaries of life. How poor Warbel drank when he
issued forth that night. Methinks I see him now. One would have
thought he had never tasted water before."
"But we came not to talk of all this," interrupted Julian, who had
been evincing a few signs of impatience latterly; "we came to tell
of the fair held today and tomorrow at Chadwick. Our father says we
may go thither tomorrow if we will. Warbel says they will bait a
bull, and perhaps a bear; and that there will be fighting with the
quarterstaff and shooting with cross and long bow, and many other
like spectacles. He will attend us, and we may be off with the
light of day, an we will. That is what we came to tell thee,
Edred."
Edred was boy enough to be well pleased at this news. Any variety
in the day's round was pleasing to the lads, who found life a
little monotonous, albeit pleasant enough. It was a relief, too, to
turn from grave thoughts and anxious forebodings to the
anticipation of simpler pleasures, and the boys all ran to seek
Warbel and ask him what these village fairs were like; for they had
been much interrupted during the recent wars, and only now that
peace had been for some years established did they begin to revive
and gain their old characteristics.
At break of day on the morning following, the little party started
forth on foot to walk the five miles which separated them from the
village of Chadwick. It was a pleasant enough walk through the
green forest paths before the heat of the day had come. The three
boys and Warbel headed the party, and were followed by some eight
or ten men of various degree, some bent on a day's pleasure for
themselves, others there with a view of attending upon their
master's sons.
Bertram felt that he could have dispensed with any attendance save
that of Warbel; but Sir Oliver had given his own orders. With so
powerful and jealous a neighbour within easy reach of the village,
he felt bound to be careful of his children. They were but
striplings after all, and doubtless his unscrupulous neighbour
would be delighted to hold one or more as a hostage should excuse
arise for opening hostilities of any kind. He knew well the
unscrupulous character of the man with whom he had to deal, and he
acted with prudence and foresight accordingly.
The little village when reached proved to be all en fete. Rude
arches of greenery crossed every pathway to the place, and all the
people had turned out in their holiday dresses upon the green to
join in the dances and see the sights. There was a miracle play
going on in one place, repeated throughout the day to varying
groups of spectators. In another corner some rude gipsy juggling
was to be seen, at which the rustic yokels gazed with wondering
eyes. There were all the usual country games in full swing; and the
baiting of a great bull, which was being led to the centre of the
green, attracted the attention of the bulk of the spectators, and
drew them away from other sports. The actors in the miracle play
threw off their dresses to come and witness this delightful
pastime, and hardly any of those present seemed to regard for a
moment the sufferings of the poor brute, or the savage nature of
the whole performance.
Edred, however, belonged to that very small minority, and whilst
his two brothers pressed into the ring, he wandered away elsewhere
to see what was to be seen. His attention was attracted by a little
knot of persons gathered together under the shade of a great oak
tree, rather far away from the green that was the centre of
attraction. The shade looked inviting, now that the heat was
growing greater, and the boy felt some curiosity to know what was
the attraction which kept this little group so compact and quiet.
On the green were shouting and yelling and noise of every
description; but Edred could hear no sound of any kind proceeding
from this little group till he approached quite near, and then he
was aware of the sound of a single voice speaking in low tones and
very earnestly.
When he got nearer still he saw that the speaker was a little
hunchback, and that he had in his hand a small book from which he
was reading aloud to the people about him. And this fact surprised
the boy not a little, for it was very unusual for any person in the
lower ranks of life to be able to read; and yet this man was
evidently in poor circumstances, for his clothes were shabby and
his hands were hardened by manual toil.
Drawing nearer in great curiosity, Edred became aware that what the
hunchback was reading was nothing more or less than a part of the
gospel narrative in the English tongue, to which the people about
him were listening in amazement, and with keen curiosity and
attention.
Edred was familiar enough with the Latin version of the Scriptures,
and had studied them under the guidance of Brother Emmanuel with
great care and attention; but he had never yet heard the words read
out in their entirety in his native tongue, and he was instantly
struck and fascinated by the freshness and suggestiveness of the
familiar language when used for this purpose. He was conscious that
it gave to the words a new life and meaning; that it seemed, as it
were, to drive them home to the heart in a new fashion, and to make
them the property of the listener as they could never be when a
dead language was used as the medium of expression. He felt a
strange thrill run through him as the story of Calvary was thus
read in the low, impassioned tones of the hunchback; and he was not
surprised to see that tears were running down many faces, and that
several women could hardly restrain their sobs.
Now and again the hunchback paused and added a few explanatory
words of his own; now and again he broke forth into a rhapsody not
lacking in a certain rude eloquence, in which he besought his
hearers to come to their Saviour with their load of sin--their
Saviour, who was the one and only Mediator between God and man.
Were not His own words enough--"Father, forgive them"? What need,
then, of the priest; the confessional; the absolution of man? To
God and to Him alone was the remission of sins. Let those who loved
their Lord seek to Him, and see what bliss and happiness resulted
from this personal bond between the erring soul and the loving
Saviour.
Edred shivered slightly as he stood, yet something in the
impassioned gestures of the hunchback, and the strange enthusiastic
light which shone in his eyes, attracted him in spite of himself.
That this was rank heresy he well knew. He knew that one of the
Lollard tenets had always been that confession was a snare devised
of man and not appointed by God. Edred himself could have quoted
many passages from Holy Writ which spoke of some need of confession
through the medium of man, and of sins remitted by God-appointed
ministers. He had been well instructed in such matters by Brother
Emmanuel, who, whatever his enemies might allege against him, was a
stanch son of the Church, even though he might be gifted with a
wide tolerance and a mind open to conviction; and his pupil was not
to be easily convinced against his will. Nor was Edred convinced of
the justice and truth of many things that this ignorant man spoke;
but what did strike him very greatly was his intense earnestness,
his fiery and impassioned gestures, the absolute confidence he
possessed in the righteousness of his own cause, and his utter
freedom from any kind of doubt or fear--the eloquence of one of
nature's orators that carries away the heart far more than the
studied oratory which is the result of practice and artifice.
Whilst the man spoke, Edred felt himself carried away in spite of
his inner consciousness that there was a flaw in the argument of
the preacher. He was intensely interested by the whole scene. He
could not help watching the faces of the group of which he made
one, watching the play of emotion upon them as they followed with
breathless attention their instructor's words, and drank in his
fiery eloquence as though it were life-giving water.
And was it wonderful this should be so? the youth asked of himself.
Were not these poor people fairly starving for want of spiritual
food? and what food did they receive from the hands of their parish
priest? Edred knew the old man well. He was a kind-hearted
sexagenarian, and in those days that was accounted an immense age.
He mumbled through the mass on Sundays; he baptized the children
and buried the dead when need arose; and if sent for by some person
in extremity, would go and administer the last rites of the Church.
But beyond that his duties did not go, and no living soul in the
place remembered hearing him speak a word of instruction or
admonition on his own account. He had a passion for gardening, and
spent all his spare time with his flowers; and his people went
their way as he did his, and their lives never touched on any
point.
Such being the case, was it wonderful that the people should come
with eagerness to hear of the Saviour from whomsoever would tell
them of Him? Edred well remembered Brother Emmanuel's words about
the four God-given channels of grace--the living ministry by which
He had meant His Church to be perfected. But how when the streams
grew choked? how when the ministry had become a dead letter? Was
the Church, were the people, to die of inanition? Might not God
pardon them for listening to any messenger who came with His name
upon his lips? Surely He who lived in the heavens would pardon them
even if it were sin, seeing that it was the instinctive love of His
own wandering sheep which brought them crowding round any shepherd
who would teach them of Him, even though he did not come in the
God-directed order.
Some such thoughts in a more chaotic form surged through Edred's
head as he stood listening, almost causing him to lose the words of
the preacher, though the tenor of his discourse was plain. He
almost wished he might enter into a discussion with this
enthusiast, and point out to him where he thought him extravagant
and wrong; but young as he was, Edred yet knew something of the
futility of argument with those whose minds are made up, and
caution withheld him from entering into any argument with one who
was plainly a Lollard preacher. So, after listening with sympathy
and interest for a long while, he quietly stole away again.
The bull baiting was over by this time. The games and other sports
were recommencing with greater energy after this brief interruption.
The miracle play was again represented, and Edred stood a few minutes
to watch, thinking within his heart that this representation, half
comical, half blasphemous (though the people who regarded it seemed
in no way aware of this), was a strange way of bringing home the
realities of the Scriptures, when it could be done so far more
faithfully and eloquently by simply reading the gospel words in the
tongue of the common people.
His eye roved from the actors, with their mincing words and
artificial gestures, to the group still collected beneath the tree,
and he could not but contrast the two methods in his own mind, and
wonder for a moment whether the Lollards could be altogether so
desperately wicked as their enemies would make out.
He was half afraid of allowing himself to think too much on such
themes, and went in search of his brothers. He found Warbel looking
out for him in some anxiety. He had missed the boy for some little
while from his charge, and as the field was filling fast with
followers and servants wearing the Mortimer livery, he was glad to
have the three boys all together beneath his care.
He would have been glad to get them to leave the place, but Bertram
would not hear of it. He wished to try his own skill at some of the
sports; and Julian, of course, must needs follow his example.
The skill and address of the Chadgrove brothers won the hearty
admiration of the rustics, but it also brought them more than once into
rivalry and collision with some of Mortimer's gentlemen-at-arms, who
were not best pleased to be overmatched by mere striplings. It was also
galling and irritating to them to note the popularity of these lads
with the rustics. Any success of theirs was rewarded by loud shouting
and applause, whilst no demonstration of satisfaction followed any feat
performed by those wearing the livery of Mortimer. And if the lads
scored a triumph over any of these latter, the undisguised delight of
the beholders could not pass unnoticed by the vanquished.
Altogether there were so much jealousy and ill will aroused that
little scuffles between the followers of Chad and Mortimer had
already taken place in more than one part of the field. Warbel was
getting very uneasy, and had persuaded Edred to use his influence
with his brothers to return home before any real collision should
have occurred, when a great tumult and shouting suddenly arose to
interrupt the whispered colloquy, and Edred saw a great rush being
made in the direction of the oak tree, where the hunchback preacher
had been keeping his station the whole day long, always surrounded
by a little knot of listeners.
Shouts and yells were filling the air, the voices being those of
Mortimer's following.
"A Lollard, a Lollard! A heretic! Down with him! Away with him! To
the fire with him! A Lollard, a Lollard!"
A deep flush overspread Edred's face. He made a spring forward; but
Warbel laid a detaining hand upon his arm.
"It is no case for us to interfere in," he said, with clouded brow.
"If they have a heretic to deal with we must not meddle. It is not
England's way for a score to attack one; but we must not interpose
betwixt Mortimer and a heretic. That would be too much peril."
But almost before the man had done speaking Edred broke away,
crying out excitedly: "My brothers, my brothers! they are there in
the thick of it!" and with a groan of terror and dismay Warbel
recognized the voice of Bertram raised in angry scorn.
"Stand back, you cowards! Who ever heard of fifty men against one,
and he a cripple? The first who touches him I strike dead. A
heretic! Pooh! nonsense. He is but a poor travelling peddler with
his pack. See, here is the pack to speak for itself. For shame to
mar a merry holiday in this unmannerly fashion! No; I will not give
him up! Ye are no better than a pack of howling, ravening wolves. I
am the Lord of Chad, and I will see that no violence is done this
day. Back to your sports, ye unmannerly knaves. Are ye fit for
nothing but to set upon one helpless man and worry him as dogs
worry their helpless prey?"
Howls, execrations, oaths followed freely; but the village people
were to a man with their young lord, and the scions of Mortimer
felt it by instinct.
"Who is he? Whence came he?" was being asked on all sides; but none
could give an answer. He was a stranger to the village, but all
those who had been drinking in his words rallied round him, and
declared he was but a simple peddler whose wares they had been
buying; and Bertram, who really thought so, stood beside the tree,
opened the bundle, and showed the innocent nature of the wares.
His brothers had forced their way to his side by this time, and
helped to make a ring round the poor hunchback; and Edred kept a
very sharp eye upon the emptying of the pack, resolved if there
should be any book at the bottom to contrive that it should not
reach the eyes of any of the vindictive followers of Mortimer.
But there was nothing of the sort to be seen. The man was both too
poor and too wary to carry such dangerous things with him. His own
thin volume had been slipped into some secret receptacle about his
person, and his calmness of bearing helped to convince all who were
open to conviction that he was innocent of the charge brought
against him.
With dark, lowering faces, and many muttered threats, the Mortimer
retainers drew off, seeing that with public feeling dead against
them they could not prevail to work their will upon the intended
victim. But Warbel was made very anxious by the words he heard
openly spoken on all sides, and he would have given much to have
hindered this act of Bertram's, generous and manly though he knew
it to have been.
"It is ill work drawing down the charge of heresy," he remarked, as
he got the boys at last in full march homeward. "Any other charge
one can laugh to scorn; but no man may tell where orthodoxy ends
and heresy begins. Godly bishops have been sent to prison, and
priests to the stake. How may others hope to escape?"
"Tush!" answered Bertram lightly; "there was never a heretic at
Chad yet, and never will be one, I trow. Was I to see a poor
cripple like that done to death without striking a blow in his
defence--he in Chadwick, of which my father is lord of the manor?
Was I to see Mortimer's men turning a gay holiday into a scene of
horror and affright? Never! I were unworthy of my name had I not
interposed. The man was no heretic, and if he had been--"
"Have a care, sir, how thou speakest; have a care, I entreat thee!
Thou knowest not what ears may be listening!" cried Warbel, in a
real fright.
Bertram laughed half scornfully.
"I have no need to be ashamed of what I think. I am a true son of
the Church, and fear not what the vile Mortimer scum may say. But
to pleasure thee, good Warbel, I will say no more. We will make our
way home with all speed, and tell the tale to our father. I doubt
not he will say it was well done. The Lord of Chad would ever have
the defenceless protected, and stand between them and the false and
treacherous bloodhounds of Mortimer. I have no fear that he will
blame me. He would have done the same in my place."
"I trow he would," answered Warbel in a low voice; "but that does
not make the deed done without peril of some sort following to the
doer."