"If Brother Emmanuel is found, Chad will be forfeit."
Such was the burden of Edred's thoughts as he rode homeward at his
brothers' side, just behind their father and mother, at the close
of that eventful day's proceedings.
It was a thought that could not but be fraught with some terror to
the boy, who knew that he had been instrumental in hiding the
threatened monk, and that if by some gruesome chance the secret
were to be discovered, their bitter enemy would make it an excuse
for prosecuting his malicious and covetous purpose towards Chad
with redoubled ardour, and with every prospect of success. At
present the prior was standing neutral betwixt the two foes; at
present the king was well disposed towards Sir Oliver. But should
it be proved beyond dispute that he had set the Church at defiance,
and had harboured a suspected heretic within his walls, then the
prior would at once turn against him, and representations would be
made to the king which would almost force him to turn away his
favour. The Lord of Chad would be a disgraced and suspected person,
whilst in all probability the wiles of the ambitious Mortimer would
prove successful, and the claim of Sir Edward Chadwell would be
admitted, and the estate pass into his hands.
The thought was maddening. The bare idea of being forced to leave
the old home sent the hot blood coursing through the boy's body. If
such a thing as that were to befall them, it would break their
father's heart. And how should he ever hold up his head again,
knowing that in some sort he had been the author of the mischief?
All the brothers had been heart and soul together in their desire
to hide the brother from the wrath and unjust tyranny of the prior;
but Edred felt as though the greatest responsibility had been his,
though he could scarcely have said why.
Julian had certainly taken the lead in the final act of the drama;
but Julian was yet a boy, and did not thoroughly realize the perils
which might follow such a course. Edred did, and his face was grave
and thoughtful; and when from time to time he stole a glance at
Bertram, he saw that his elder brother's face was overcast and
anxious, too.
They did not dare to exchange a single word upon the subject
nearest to their hearts as they rode decorously behind their
parents and the two monks. The whole train had to restrain their
horses to the ambling pace of the steed bestridden by the monks,
who were by no means skilled riders; and dusk had fallen ere they
all rode into the courtyard of Chad, where the bustle of
dismounting afforded the brothers the chance of escaping for a few
minutes to their upper chamber together.
"We must not stay a minute; the spies will be after us!" whispered
Bertram. "But one question I must ask. Is he there?"
"Yea, verily; and none need visit him for many days. It were better
not.
"But, brothers both, lend me your strong arms here. I would move
this great chest across the fireplace. Ask no question; I will show
you why anon."
Edred was the speaker, and he indicated an enormous carved oak
chest quite twelve feet in length, which was kept in this room to
hold the clothing of the three lads. They did from time to time
change its position in the room, so that no remark would be excited
by the fact that it had been moved. As Edred wished to place it
now, it would stand right across the fireplace, blocking entirely
the secret door; but Bertram looked a little doubtfully at it when
it was in place, saying tentatively:
"Thou dost not think it would draw attention to the carved pillars
of the fireplace? We shall have cunning and crafty men to deal with
on the morrow."
Edred smiled slightly.
"Wait till the morrow comes, and thou shalt see," he answered; and
then the brothers hastened down again, knowing that any sudden
disappearance on their part might be marked and held as suspicious.
They had not, however, been gone long enough to be missed, and the
two monks who had been told off to keep watch within this house had
but just made their way into the hall, where hot spiced wine was
being dispensed, and the table set out for supper.
Notwithstanding the feast recently partaken of at the priory, the
brothers appeared by no means loath to sit down once again, and
Edred could not but observe how differently they comported
themselves from Brother Emmanuel, and how thoroughly they
appreciated the dainty viands which were brought out in their
honour.
He did not mean to sit in judgment--he scarcely knew that he was
doing so; yet as be watched their deep potations, and marked how
they chose the best portions, and stinted themselves in no good
thing, his stern young mind could not but rise up in revolt, the
more so that these very men were actually here on purpose to strive
to capture a brother of their own order, and deliver him over to
death. And so far as the youth understood the matter, the offence
for which it was resolved he should suffer was that he was too
faithful to the vows he had taken upon himself, and too ardent in
striving to enforce upon others the rules he held binding upon
himself.
But at least if these brothers ate and drank merrily, they were not
therefore the better watchers. They had smiled a little scornfully
as he contrasted their good feeding and deep drinking and
subsequent visible sleepiness with the spare and frugal meal always
taken by Brother Emmanuel, to be followed as often as not by a long
night vigil in the chantry. There was small look of watchfulness
about these men. Any vigil kept by them would be but a mockery of
the term. It was all they could do to stumble through the office of
compline when the meal was ended and the household about to retire,
and there was no suggestion on their part of wishing to remain to
keep vigil.
But Edred resolved that he would watch again that night. He had
done so the previous night with Brother Emmanuel, both thinking
that it might be the last watch they would ever hold together. Now
the boy felt that he could not sleep, at least for many hours; and
since their mother had whispered to them that Brother Fabian was to
share their room, since he said it was his duty to keep watch upon
the boys till next morning, it seemed well to leave his bed for the
drowsy monk, aid keep vigil himself in the silent chantry.
The brother looked puzzled when he heard what one of his young
charges proposed to do. Edred looked him full in the face as he
answered:
"Brother Emmanuel taught us that it were not well that all within
the house should be sleeping. We know not when the Lord may
appear--at midnight, at cock crowing, or in the morning; and
methinks whenever He may come, He would gladly find one soul
holding vigil and waiting for His appearing. Lock the door of the
chantry upon me, my father. Thou canst see that there is but the
one door by which we may come or go. If thou fearest to leave me
here, lock the door upon me until such time as it pleases thee to
release me."
The brother regarded the boy with perplexed looks, and slowly shook
his head, as though such an attitude of mind were wholly
incomprehensible. But he did not oppose his resolve. It would not
do to appear astonished at the idea of keeping vigil. He passed out
of the chantry muttering to himself, and Edred prostrated himself
before the altar, above which the solitary lamp burned clear and
bright, and offered up most earnest prayers for the safety of
Brother Emmanuel, for the failure and discomfiture of his foes, and
for his safe escape when the time was ripe into some country where
his enemies were not like to find him.
How the hours of the night passed he scarcely knew. He might
perhaps have slept at his post awhile, or have remained in a dreamy
and passive state; for it did not seem long before the morning sun
came glinting in at the eastern window, and the boy saw that the
day had come which was to be a momentous one to Chad.
Before very long, sounds of life about, and later on within the
house, warned him that he was not the only watcher now; and feeling
very drowsy and weary, he resolved to creep upstairs and share
Julian's couch for the remaining hours before the working day
should commence.
He had not been locked into the chantry. Perhaps Brother Fabian
felt a little shame in his suspicions, or perhaps he forgot to take
the precaution. The door yielded to his touch, and he found himself
at liberty to go where he would.
But before turning his steps to his room upstairs, he made an
expedition to an outhouse on what appeared to be a curious errand.
It was a dirty, neglected place, and was full of dust and flue and
cobweb. The boy began deliberately collecting masses of this flue
and web, and presently he swept up carefully a good-sized heap of
dust, which he as deliberately placed in a wooden box, and
proceeded to make in one end a number of small holes.
Carefully carrying away this strange load, and bearing it with
great secrecy, the boy mounted the stairs very softly, and put down
the handkerchief in which the flue was placed in the small unused
room beside their sleeping chamber. With the box still in his hands
he stole on tiptoe into the room and looked carefully round him.
His brothers were sleeping lightly, looking as though they would be
easily and speedily aroused. But the monk was snoring deeply, and
the bloated face which was turned towards him displayed that
abandonment of repose which bespeaks a very sound and even sottish
slumber.
The boy looked with repulsion at the flushed face, the open mouth,
and dropped jaw. Something in the expression of that sleeping face
filled him with scorn and loathing. No danger of this man's
awakening; his half-drunken sleep was far too heavy and sodden.
Edred stepped lightly across the room towards the chest which he
had had moved the previous evening, and lying at full length along
the floor, he proceeded to shake his box after the manner of a
pepper pot until he had made beneath the chest a soft layer of dust
which looked like the accumulation of weeks. It was deftly and
skilfully done, and although he looked critically at the after
effect, to make sure there was nothing artificial about the aspect,
he could not detect anything amiss.
The next step was to carry away his box, empty it out of a window,
and break in pieces the perforated part, that there might be no
tracing his action in this matter. Then gaining possession of his
handkerchief full of flue, he stole softly back again, and laid
great flakes between the legs of the chest and the wall, stuffed
light fragments into the interstices of the carving, and laid them
upon any projecting ledge that was likely to have caught such light
dirt as it filtered through the air.
A soft movement in the room told him that his brothers were awake
and watching him, though the monk still snored on in his stertorous
fashion. One after the other the pair stole from their beds and
looked for a moment at this skilful travesty of nature's handiwork,
and both nodded in token of approval and congratulation.
Edred had an artist's eye for effect, and did not spoil his
handiwork by overdoing it. The result produced was exactly as if
the chest had stood for some time in its present position, so that
the dust had gathered beneath it and the flue had clung to the wall
behind it. No one looking at its position there could doubt that it
had been there for a period of some weeks.
Satisfied with the result of his manoeuvre, the boy flung away the
rest of his spoil, and throwing himself upon one of his brothers'
beds was soon lost in healthy sleep.
When he awoke the sun was high in the sky, and he found himself
alone with Father Fabian, who appeared likewise only just to have
awakened.
Brother Emmanuel would long ago have held early mass in the
chantry, but this new inmate appeared by no means disposed to
follow in the footsteps of his predecessors. He rubbed his eyes,
and seemed scarce to know where he was; but he accepted Edred's
offers of assistance, and was soon ready to leave the room in
search of the meal to which he was accustomed.
All Chad was in a stir of expectation. It was known throughout the
house that a great search was to be instituted after the missing
priest, who had, as it were, disappeared into thin air.
Everybody knew that he had been within the precincts of Chad upon
the previous day. Some amongst the few servants who had been left
behind to take care of the house had seen him moving quietly about
from the chantry to the courtyard and back. It was now well known
that spies were lurking in the forest round Chad with a view of
intercepting any attempt at flight, and it was plain they had seen
nothing of him. Therefore, unless he had escaped their vigilance by
cunning and artifice, he must still be somewhere within the
precincts of the house; and on the whole this appeared the most
probable theory. In a place like Chad, where there were all manner
of outbuildings, sheds, and lofts; to say nothing of all the
corners and hiding places within the house itself, it would be very
tempting to take refuge in one of these nooks and crannies, and to
trust to the chance of concealment rather than run the gauntlet of
meeting foes in the open.
Brothers from the monasteries, to say nothing of hunted heretics,
had the reputation of being marvellous cunning in their methods. It
was like enough that Brother Emmanuel had long been planning some
such concealment for himself, and had made his plans cleverly and
astutely. Such was the prevailing opinion at Chad, and scarcely a
member of the household but hoped and trusted his hiding place
would not be detected, even though they did not know how seriously
the fortunes of their master might be affected were the monk to be
found hidden in his house.
They all loved Brother Emmanuel for his own sake, and hated the
Lord of Mortimer. And it was well known that that haughty baron was
making common cause with the prior of Chadwater in this matter,
doubtless in the hope of disgracing Sir Oliver in the eyes of the
ecclesiastical powers.
So a general feeling of excitement and uncertainty prevailed during
the early hours of the morning. Sir Oliver and his wife strove to
appear calm and tranquil, but inwardly they were consumed by
anxiety. They felt something very much approaching certainty that
their own sons knew what had befallen the monk--probably his very
hiding-place; and they were by no means certain that it might not
be within the very precincts of Chad itself. The knight's
generosity and love of justice were sufficiently stirred to make
him willing to run some risk in the cause; he had resolved to ask
no question, and to let matters take their own course. But he could
not help feeling a tremor run through him as he heard the winding
of the horn which bespoke the presence of the visitors at his gate,
and he went forth to meet them with a sinking heart, albeit his
mien was calm and untroubled and his bearing dignified and assured.
The prior and the Lord of Mortimer headed the train, and behind
followed a goodly retinue of men wearing the livery of the baron,
to say nothing of the lay brothers and the cowled monks, who were
skilful in matters pertaining to search, and who had come to assist
in the examination of the whole of the great house.
Upon the face of Lord Mortimer and upon that of his son-in-law
there was an ill-disguised look of vindictive triumph. It was easy
to see that they were fully assured of the presence of the fugitive
within these walls, and that they did not mean to leave until he
had been dragged forth from his hiding place.
The guests of the better quality were respectfully conducted into
the great hall, and refreshments were placed before them. Sir
Oliver put his whole house and possessions into the hands of the
prior, who was invited to make any kind of investigation and
examination that he thought necessary. The knight repeated what he
had said the previous day as to his entire ignorance where the monk
was hiding, and whether he was hiding at all. But no obstacle of
any kind would be placed by him against the most stringent search,
and he would either accompany the searchers or remain passive where
he was, exactly as the reverend father judged best.
This statement was well received by the prior, who turned to the
Lord of Mortimer and suggested that in the first place his armed
troopers, who were well used to this kind of work, should make a
strict search through all the outbuildings of whatever kind,
posting his men wherever he thought needful, and taking any steps
such as the smoking of chimneys and kindred methods that might in
any wise be likely to dislodge the fugitive. Meantime the rest of
the party would remain where they were, and the house should only
be searched if it was made clear that the monk was not hiding
without.
Lord Mortimer retired to give his orders, and the rest of the
company remained in the hall. The boys would better have liked the
house searched first, that their anxiety might be the sooner
relieved. It was keeping them on tenterhooks all this time, as they
knew well that no result could accrue from any search of the outer
yards or buildings, and it was hard to wait all that time in
uncertainty and suspense.
But they heard the order given without making any sign. It was well
for them at this crisis that they had been trained in habits of
self control and reserve. No one, to look at the three boys, would
have guessed them to be greatly interested in the proceedings. They
remained standing in the background, with an air of quiet respect
and submission appropriate to the young in presence of their
spiritual superiors. The prior, as his keen eye travelled over the
faces in the hall, never suspected for a moment that those three
quiet lads knew aught of this matter. But, pleased by their air and
bearing, he called them to him and asked them some questions, to
assure himself that they had been properly taught by the
recalcitrant monk whom now he had resolved to find and to punish
for his rebellion and temerity.
The boys replied with such ready intelligence and so much actual
learning that he could not but be pleased with them. Edred, in
particular, showed such readiness and aptitude that the prior was
surprised, and laying a kindly hand upon the boy's head, asked him
how soon they would be welcoming him at Chadwater.
The youth looked up with grave, thoughtful eyes.
"I know not that, my father. I have had thoughts of the religious
life; but--"
"Well, boy, what is the 'but'?" asked the prior with a smile, but a
keen flash of the eye which did not pass unheeded.
Edred saw the flash, and was put at once upon his guard. This was
not Brother Emmanuel, to whom he could open his whole soul and ask
counsel and advice.
"I misdoubt me at times if I be fit for the life," he answered.
"There is too much of the world in my heart, I fear me. I used to
think I was fit to be a monk, but I am the less sure now."
"Well, well, I would fain have a promising lad like thee beneath my
care; but there is time to talk of that later.
"Well, my Lord of Mortimer, how goes the search? Is all in train
for it?"
"Ay, reverend father; and I trow if the miscreant be in hiding
anywhere without the house, he will shortly be brought before us. I
am no novice in this manner of work, and I have laid my plans that
he will scarce escape us. If that fail, we must try the house
itself. It will go hard if we find him not somewhere. We have full
information that he has not left the place;" and here he flashed an
insolent look of triumph at Sir Oliver, who took not the smallest
notice either of the speech or the look.
Edred retired to his former place beside his brothers, and the
party awaited the result of the search with what patience they
might. Now and then shouts and calls broke the stillness, and faces
would flush with excitement at the sound; but the shouts always
died away again into silence, and at last there came a trooper into
the hall to salute the company and report that there was no one
hidden in any of the places without. Not a rat or a mouse could
have failed to be turned out after the stringent search to which
the premises had been subjected.
The Lord of Mortimer then rose and said:
"Keep the men posted as I have given orders. Let none stir from his
vantage ground. And be thou there to see that the closest watch is
kept. We go in person to search the house, and if any living thing
seeks to make escape by door or window, it will be thine office and
that of thy men to seize and hold him."
"We will not fail, my lord," said the man, who again saluted and
withdrew.
Then the prior rose and called his monks about him, whilst the Lord
of Mortimer did the like with his followers.
"Sir Oliver," said the prior, "I would have spared you this
unwelcome formality had it been possible, but my duty must be done.
I will ask you to be our conductor throughout the house, and will
crave permission to post my servants hither and thither about the
passages as seems to me best, and to take such steps as shall
appear needful for proving to the satisfaction of all that this
traitor monk is not hidden within your walls."
Sir Oliver bent his head.
"Take what steps you will, reverend father; I and mine are at your
disposal. Whatever means you desire to use, do so without
hesitation. Shall my people arm themselves with tools to remove
panelling or flooring? You have but to command them; they shall
instantly obey."
The Lord of Mortimer again looked taken aback for a moment. There
was a confidence in Sir Oliver's manner that did not appear to be
assumed. He would have preferred another aspect in his foe.
"We have brought all things needful for a rigorous search,"
answered the prior. "We hope and trust nothing will be needed. Is
it true that there are secret hiding places in the house, my son?
It would be well, perhaps, to visit any such first."
"There be two," answered Sir Oliver quietly, though his heart beat
rather fast. What if Brother Emmanuel had learned the secret of
either of those places, and had sought refuge in one? True, it
would have been worse than useless to deny their existence. Many in
the household knew of them and how they might be entered.
Probably the prior or some of his monks had the trick of those
chambers by heart. Chad had been through many vicissitudes, and the
monks had often been its guests. Secrets once known to them were
never allowed to be lost. It would have been idle to seek to put
the searchers off the scent. He led the way to the places where the
masked doors lay--one was much after the pattern of that in the
boys' chamber--and in each case himself opened the door, letting
his guests go in to examine for themselves.
Those were terrible moments for him; but the hearts of the boys did
not palpitate. Each time the search party came forth with looks of
baffled disappointment. Each time the Lord of Mortimer's face was
dark and gloomy. He had reckoned somewhat confidently on finding
the fugitive in one of these known hiding places. He had hoped Sir
Oliver would profess an ignorance of at least one of the two. His
face was fierce and vindictive as the second was "drawn blank."
But the excitement of the boys was slowly augmenting as the party
moved higher and higher in the house, leaving scouts posted in
various places, and, as it were, spreading a cleverly-constructed
net all through Chad, which it would be impossible for any person
being hunted from spot to spot finally to escape.
The prior's idea now was that the monk might be gliding before them
from place to place, confident that his knowledge of the
intricacies of the house would give him the chance of evading them
at the last. It was a desperate game, to be sure, but one that had
been successfully tried by others on more than one occasion. He
therefore posted his men with great skill and acumen; and knowing
the house accurately, was able to feel secure that if this were the
game being played, the prey would sooner or later be his.
Lord Mortimer, on the other hand, gave his attention to the
panelled walls, the carved chimney pieces, the flooring of the old
rooms; and many were the blows struck here and there by his orders,
and great was the damage done to certain panelled rooms, in the
hopes of coming upon some masked door or passage.
It was this energy on his part that caused such anxiety to the
boys. Suppose he were to attack the carving which really concealed
the masked door in their room? Might not his eagle eye light upon
that, too, and might not all be discovered? The boys felt almost
sick with apprehension as they approached the door of their room,
and Edred's whole heart went up in a voiceless prayer that no
discovery might be made.
Nothing in the aspect of the room attracted comment. All looked
matter of fact and innocent enough, and the prior was growing
something weary with the unavailing search. The usual thumping on
the walls was commenced; but even the carved mantel pillars were so
solid that no hollow sound was given forth when they were struck.
The prior turned away.
"There is naught here, methinks, my Lord of Mortimer."
"Wait one moment," replied the baron. "This carving be something
deep and ponderous. I always suspect traps when I see such pains
bestowed upon it. Let me examine a while further. These grapes look
to me as if they had been fingered something often. Let me examine
further."
Edred's heart was in his mouth. It was all he could do to restrain
himself from seeking to attract the prior's attention in another
direction; but his sound sense told him that this sudden
interruption would be suspicious. Julian nipped him by the arm, as
those strong fingers went travelling over the carved work with dire
intent. Both started when the Lord of Mortimer exclaimed:
"Take away yon chest; it encumbers me."
The servants did his bidding in a moment; and then a sudden change
came over his face. The eager look died away. He remained awhile
looking down at the floor, which was covered with dust and flue, as
was also the carving which had been concealed behind the chest. The
prior looked down too, and shrugged his shoulders.
"That tells a tale, my lord. Naught has been disturbed here for
many a long day. Let us pursue our search elsewhere. No fugitive
could have passed by that spot since yesterday, when Brother
Emmanuel was last seen."
The baron could not but assent. He looked once again at the
carving, but he had had no real reason to suspect aught, and he
turned away to go elsewhere. Another grip of the arm showed Edred
how Julian's feelings had been stirred; but the lads did not even
look at each other as they moved on behind the company, and they
now hardly heard or heeded what passed during the remaining hour of
that long search.
For them the crisis had passed when they turned from the room where
the secret lay. If not discovered at that awful moment when Lord
Mortimer's hand was actually upon the bunch of grapes beneath which
lay the spring, they surely need not fear any other manoeuvre on
his part.
And at last the long search ended. Even the Lord of Mortimer had to
own himself beaten. Reluctantly and with scowling brow he followed
the prior back to the long banqueting hall, where the tables had
already been laid with savoury viands. He had been worsted where he
had been most confident of success, and he was as furious as a bear
robbed of her whelps.
The prior was taking Sir Oliver by the hand and speaking words of
goodwill, professing great satisfaction at the result of this
stringent search; his only vexation being that the monk had
contrived to give them the slip. In the back of his head the prior
had a lurking feeling that Sir Oliver had been in some sort
concerned in Brother Emmanuel's escape, and was rejoicing at it;
but inasmuch as he had entirely failed to bring home any charge
against him, and as in all other respects he was a good neighbour
and true son of the Church, he was willing enough to restore him to
favour and confidence, and was not sorry on the whole that the
haughty Lord of Mortimer was not going to have it all his own way.
The astute ecclesiastic knew very well that he himself did better
for holding a neutral position between two adversaries both
desiring his friendship and good opinion, than he would do were
Chad and Mortimer to be in the same hands. He was disappointed at
not finding the monk, but not sorry Sir Oliver stood vindicated. He
set himself down to the board with a hearty goodwill; but the baron
refused the proffered hospitality of his rival, and summoned his
attendants about him.
"I will say farewell this time, Sir Oliver," he said haughtily.
"But remember I still hold that we have only been foiled by your
cunning; not that you are innocent in this matter. If ever I can
prove this thing against you, I shall do so; and I recommend the
reverend prior to keep his watch still upon this house, as I fully
believe yon traitor monk is in hiding here."
"And I, my lord baron," said Sir Oliver proudly, "will give you
fair warning that I will speedily to the king, to lay before him
the history of this day and the insults to which I have been
subjected through you and your groundless suspicions of me. I have
not resisted what you have chosen to do, knowing well the use you
would have made of such resistance. But I have not forgotten the
many acts of aggression and hostility of which you have been
guilty; and this last day's work, in which your servants have made
themselves, as it were, masters of Chad, shall be answered for at
some future day. You have thought good to threaten me. I too will
threaten you. I threaten you with the displeasure of the king when
this thing comes to his ears; and I shall seek him now without
delay, and tell him all I have suffered at your hands."