THE INCENDIARY.
The dance continued merrily and cheerily, and every one enjoyed the
Christmas cheer; till at last the castle horn blew, and friends who
lived near parted with good humor from those who were to remain the
night.
'Friends,' said De Freston, 'farewell! Our love go with you.'
Little did any who departed think they were the last words they
should ever hear from the lips of that generous nobleman. The bustle
of departure had scarcely been over before Ellen and Latimer,
Cavendish and other friends, were surprised to hear Lord De Freston
give an order such as they never had heard upon such an occasion
before:
'Torches for the Tower!'
'Torches for the Tower, father!' exclaimed Ellen; 'what! on this
night?'
'Yes, my daughter, it is but fitting that we should have due regard
to the prejudices of strangers:
'Torches for the Tower!
'And, Ellen, wrap thyself well up in thy wintry woollen mantle, and
accompany me thereto. This stranger has a vow upon him which we must
see performed. It is one enjoined by thine early friend, Thomas
Wolsey.'
This was sufficient for Ellen, but Cavendish, his gentleman usher,
house secretary, and most humble servant, said--
'Who is the stranger? what is the vow?'
'You may inquire of him anything you will.'
'Old man,' said Cavendish, 'what is thy name?'
'My name is Duncan.'
'Monk of York, who, on a celebrated Palm Sunday, on which we all went
in procession to our Lady's Chapel, didst conduct thyself disorderly,
licentiously, and insultingly to my Lord Cardinal, and wast ordered
to be confined for the lifetime of my master?'
'I am he--the same--and was then to perform the vow which thy master
named, and which, now he is dead, I am come to fulfil.'
'I do not remember that part of thy sentence.'
'This was imposed upon me at the suggestion of our Superior, the
venerable D'Annerat.'
'It is well--it is well--my poor master is dead, and the Superior
might have obtained this penance from my master without my knowledge,
and it is not unlike him. Hast thou no proof thereof?'
'This,' said the cunning Duncan, 'this,' and he showed him a glass
cross, with the arms of the Cardinal in the centre, and the whole
capable of illumination by a phosphoric matter, with which it had
been washed inside.
Cavendish asked him so many questions of York, of its monastery,
cathedral, neighborhood, palace, castle, and people, that he became
convinced he was at York during the time of his master's presence
therein. He gave, therefore, implicit credence to the man's words,
and intimated to Lord De Freston that he could vouch for the truth of
the man's statement.
Torches were brought, two men appointed to attend the aged devotee,
and to assist his steps, whilst Lord De Freston, Ellen, and Latimer,
with Cavendish, prepared to walk through the snow, which had then
fallen deep, to the porch of Freston Tower.
Old Saracen howled most piteously as the torches passed over the
drawbridge, and neither the orders for silence, nor the cheerful call
of De Freston, could make him cease his piteous moan, as if he were
baying the torches which were accompanying his master to his tomb,
instead of the light, airy, lofty, cheerful abode of his hours of
meditation, recreation, and study.
It was a very unusual thing for his master to proceed by torchlight
without his favorite bloodhound, and it might be the being left
chained at the castle door at such a time that created Saracen's
discomfiture. But his anger at the beggar was sufficient cause for
De Freston to decline his services that night.
The attendants were ordered to accompany their lord, but the fool
would not go. He had other game in view, for, having seen
significant but secret glances pass between Abdil Foley and the
beggar, he resolved to watch the former, whom he heard say--
'I must hasten to my son's room for my cloak.'
His young son was one of the undergrooms, who slept in the furthest
attic, adjoining the unfrequented apartments of the castle. Reuben
Styles was suspicious. The moment he heard his speech he bolted off,
and took the nearest passage to the back staircase, leaving Abdil to
pursue his way through the crowd; one detaining him to congratulate
him upon his recovery; another joking him about the fool; another
about his possession of a demon, until Reuben had fairly secreted
himself beneath one of the groom's beds, before the wretched Abdil
came with his lantern into the room.
He came, and alone; but breathing hard, and yet listening. His cloak
lay upon the bed, and its folds were hanging down even before the
face of Reuben Styles; so that he was in some trepidation lest his
old foe should catch him alone, and give him an additional punishment
for his curiosity. He was surprised the cloak did not move,
especially as he knew that Abdil would not like to go across the park
alone at night, and friends were fast departing from the hospitable
roof.
At last he heard him sigh, and speak--
'Come, I must be quick! Away, ye fiends of darkness; torment me not!
Now, then, for the Faith. I am glad, however, my lord and lady are
not in the house. No matter, if I am revenged upon the fool. I
should like to see him burning upon one of the turrets. Now, Father
Duncan, thou wilt say I did it well. I must not forget my cloak upon
my return. Ha! ha! ye heretics! ye will soon see a blaze!'
Those were fearful words for the fool to hear, who began to think
that he was found out, and that he was to be taken wrapped up in the
woollen covering of the bed, and to be burnt on the top of the
turret, which was only a few winding steps from the place where he
then lay.
He was relieved, however, by hearing the bolts of the door leading to
the unfrequented apartments undone, and then the lock turn from its
hold, and its old rusty hinges grate upon the pivots, and Abdil Foley
depart, closing the door again.
'Whatever is the villain at!' thought Reuben. 'Whatever it is, he
shall have it all to himself, for I will take good care he shall keep
in those apartments all night. He crept from his hiding-place,
bolted the door, and finding that the great key was in the lock, he
turned that also, and fled down stairs again to the hall, determined
to give an alarm to all the house, by saying there was a ghost in the
unfrequented part of the house.
He did so, for he went into the very midst of the domestics, and told
them all to go and listen, what a strange noise there was.
And, indeed, there was soon heard a strange noise: such a thundering
row at the doors, and such a crackling of wood, that the poor
creatures shivered with terror, and the fool himself became horrified.
'There is a demon in the house,
There is a ghost I'm sure;
What strange, unearthly, hideous rows!
Who can these woes endure?'