THE QUEEN RETURNS TO HUNSTANTON.
"Yes! I love justice well, as well as you do;
But, since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me
If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb."
SCOTT, _Old Play._
"I have been wondering," began Audrey next morning, "if there may not
be danger of that fellow telling some one he saw a strange gentleman
here? If any noise of it should come to the constables, 'twould be
tragic."
"That rascal? Oh, he can have no acquaintance with the constables save
when they put him in the stocks. I think not we need trouble over him!
Yet, if indeed it would ease your fears, 'tis easy for me to go forward
to Lynn to-day, and lie close at Master Marshman's till the ship sails
to-morrow. I will presently don my new raiment, and when you have
admired it, if you counsel so, I will set forth to Lynn in all my
glory."
"I do believe 'twould be wise. I have been tormented by foolish fears
ever since that man was here. You could lie hid aboard the ship
perhaps?"
"Ay, but as to that, I think I had better order me by Master Marshman's
counsel. And, methinks, if you do indeed drive me forth, it were well
to set us a rendezvous in his house. And yet I know not--'tis scarce
fitting to take you there! But you are a brave lady, and count to face
bears and wolves in New England; perchance Master Marshman will not
make you afeared. But, sweet sister, be warned, I pray you, and when
you come there, heed not Master Marshman's looks and address, for his
words are oftentimes harsh, but 'tis only the bitter rind of a most
noble kernel. He is of a most generous spirit, and spends all his
goods in alms, even bestowing his help on Quakers and Anabaptists,
though he reproves their errors roundly. For indeed he is so very
valiant for truth, or what he holds as such, that he never tempers his
warfare with any of the softnesses of peace. Through fair weather and
foul he has held fast to his Presbyterian doctrines, and for them did
he suffer as much at the hand of Cromwell's men as he did in the old
church days when the Bishop of Norwich cast him into jail for holding
of conventicles. He doth rage at some for their love of bishops, and
at others for heresy, and at others for the killing of the king, and as
for his congregation, he holds them in such subjection that the rule of
Archbishop Laud was tender to his."
"Oh, I know him well by report," laughed Audrey; "but if he gives my
brother safe hiding I will forgive him some hard words. My grandfather
never rode into Lynn without bringing back some tale of Master
Marshman's supremacy, though, indeed, I think he must have invented the
best part of them, for he had a merry wit. He loved above all things
to carry such tales to our vicar, and he would always end with, 'Now,
Parson Cholmondeley, confess that even a Roundhead spake truth when Mr.
Milton wrote, 'New Presbyter is but old priest writ large;' and Parson
Cholmondeley always answered pat, 'Ay, ay, Presbyterian and
Independent, fight dog, fight cat.' Parson Cholmondeley could not
abide Mr. Milton, and when Parliament turned him out of the vicarage
and he came to live with us, I hid all Mr. Milton's poems in
grandfather's chamber for fear the good man should vex himself to come
on them in the study. He always read us the Church prayers morning and
evening, and the folks said when Mr. Marshman heard tell---- Ah, see,"
she shrieked, breaking off, "they are coming! they are coming! my
fears were true. Fly, fly to the attic. I will keep the constables at
bay a while;" and Audrey rushed to the hearth and, seizing the tongs,
she set up such a clattering and rattling among the great logs on the
hearth that Harrison's flying footsteps upstairs were drowned as
completely as were the repeated knocks at the door. After a while she
condescended to notice the thundering blows, and crossing the kitchen
leisurely she opened the door, and looked with somewhat contemptuous
dignity at a little ferret-faced man in a black dress who stood on the
threshold, backed up by a couple of stout constables, who pulled their
forelocks and grinned recognition of the young lady.
"What is your will, sir?" asked Audrey, in a lofty tone.
"Mistress Perrient?" demanded the little man. "Ah, yes; I have a
search warrant from Justice Tomkins of Hunstanton, to search, seek,
apprehend, and bring in custody one Richard Harrison, a regicide and
Fifth-monarchy man, accused of sedition, and raising a riot on the 5th
of January last against the king's peace."
"How, sir!" cried Audrey; "know you whom you speak to? Methinks you
are strangely ignorant of the country, that you dare come here with
such papers! This house belongs to Sir Francis Cremer, the High
Sheriff of the county!"
"Madam," answered the man, visibly startled, "'tis no offence intended
to his honour the High Sheriff; but, as he is not dwelling here, he
cannot take order to apprehend suspicious persons found roaming round
his premises. And Justice Tomkins hath received a very sufficient
description of a suspicious person seen here yesterday forenoon."
"Suspicious person!" broke out Audrey, with fresh wrath. "And do you
dare to say that I, Mistress Audrey Perrient, harbour suspicious
persons? Doubtless you think I keep a troop of highwaymen in the
house, and share their spoils! And you"--turning on the
constables--"Jack Catlin and Tom Abbes, you should take shame to come
to the house of my grandfather's child on such an errand."
The constables shuffled and looked at each other, and one muttered with
a grin--
"The lass is a masterpiece--might be old Sir Gyles himself a rating on
us!"
"Come, madam," interrupted the man in black, "you must know a
magistrate's warrant cannot be disputed. We would not be uncivil to a
lady, but enter we must."
"Oh, come in, come in!" cried Audrey, throwing the door wide. "You can
see all there is to see; and there are my keys," flinging them with a
clash on the kitchen table, "only if you come on the Inglethorpe ghosts
in searching the house, pray take it not as a sign that I am their
murderer, neither if you find my father's clothes, hold them for the
Sunday suit of a highwayman."
One of the constables picked up the keys with a subdued air, and looked
at the leader for further direction.
"Yes, we must not delay. You know something of the house, Catlin; you
lead the way;" and he prepared to pass into the front part of the house.
A thought struck Audrey; she could be sure that the constables would be
too stupid and too much afraid of the well-known Inglethorpe ghosts to
search over-curiously; but this little man with his ferret face and
sharp eyes was dangerous; it might be wise to distract his attention.
"Stay, sir," she said, as he was following the men out of the kitchen.
"May I ask to whom I am speaking? I see, of course, you are no
constable."
"My name is Robert Reed, at your service, madam, clerk to Justice
Tomkins," he replied.
He had regained some confidence on observing the shabby clothes of the
young lady, and the poverty-stricken air of the house.
"Mr. Reed," she said, making a curtesy, "you are but late come to these
parts, so I should ask your pardon for being so warm. 'Tis no fault of
yours that Justice Tomkins is wanting in that courtesy due to a lady."
Mr. Reed bowed in some embarrassment. "But, madam, 'tis the duty of
every magistrate to be on his guard against the pestilent knaves who
are roaming through the land, plotting and contriving against the
present happy settlement."
"Oh, doubtless, sir," interrupted Audrey; "and Justice Tomkins has my
best thanks. Our hen-roosts have been twice robbed; and a party of
gipsies passed last Tuesday se'night who took every rag from our
clothes-line, even to my dairy-woman's great aprons!"
"Very sad, very reprehensible; it must be looked to," replied the
clerk, pompously, falling at once into Audrey's trap, and laying down
the hat he had been twirling impatiently.
"I am so glad to have the opportunity of telling you of it, sir,"
continued Audrey, artfully. What lawyer's clerk could suspect this
affable young lady of double dealing? Yet her mind was only half given
to diplomatizing with Mr. Reed; her ears were strained to follow the
heavy footsteps of the constables as they creaked up the stairs and
tramped from room to room. Would they suspect that the chamber above
had been occupied? Had Captain Harrison remembered to close the door
leading to his garret? Would they think of rummaging there? She lost
the thread of her harangue, hesitated--Mr. Reed opened his mouth to
speak, and she hurried to add, "for, indeed, it seemed as though the
justices were taking little heed of the honesty of these hamlets."
"It shall be looked to--it shall be looked to! But pilfering is one
thing, madam, and conspiracy and rebellion, and raising troops against
the present most happy government of his sacred Majesty, is another!"
"Oh la, sir! Who can have told you that I had a rebellion and troops
in my house? 'Tisn't likely now, is it?"
"No, madam," he answered, with another pompous bow; "doubtless you
disturb the peace of the king's liege subjects after another fashion."
"Insolent little jackanapes!" thought Audrey. "I trust my new brother
is not within hearing!"
"But," continued Reed, "'tis sure that this dangerous ruffian Harrison
is lurking in these parts, and 'tis fitting a lady dwelling alone
should be warned against such a character."
"But who has been so insolent as to say a person of bad character could
be seen about my house? (Pray Heaven the person is well hidden among
those old flock beds)," she mentally interpolated.
"A--a soldier who was passing on his way to London laid a complaint of
a strong rogue who assaulted and beat him, who answers to the
description we have received of this fellow Harrison."
"Now is the author of this mare's nest discovered!" burst out Audrey,
with fine indignation. "Your soldier, sir, was a sturdy beggar who
behaved saucily, and was chastised by one of my household. Justice
Tomkins truly picks fair company when he holds conference with such a
pick-purse instead of putting him in the stocks!"
"Then, madam," continued the clerk, pertinaciously, "you have seen no
sign of the said Harrison lurking in this neighbourhood?"
"If Justice Tomkins had behaved like a gentleman and sent me a letter
by his serving-man," she replied, with dignified severity, "I should
have been happy to further his search; but when he knows no better than
to send the constables and a search warrant to Inglethorpe Hall, he may
do his work for himself, I trouble not myself about his business."
"But, madam, you must needs give aid to the ministers of the law; if
you will not answer me, you will, no question, be asked to take oath
before the justices. Well?" He broke off, as the constables tramped
back into the room. "Have you seen any traces of the fellow?"
"Noo; us haven't seen naught, without it be rats," grinned Jack Catlin.
"There be a main sight of rats, mistress."
"Very disappointing, very unsatisfactory," murmured the clerk; and
Audrey could not refrain from a little gasp of relief which she
converted into a prim cough at the constable's familiarity. "The
description tallied to a hair. Now, madam, I must ask you upon your
oath whether you have seen this Harrison, or have in any wise succoured
or comforted him?"
"Nonsense," interrupted Audrey. "I will take no oath about such pure
folly. As I told you already, Justice Tomkins hath not behaved him
like a gentleman, and I shall say no word about his matters."
"But, madam, if you will not take oath, you put me in a strait," cried
the perplexed clerk, divided between his pride in his responsible
position and his alarm at this very impetuous young lady. "I shall be
driven to cite you for contumacy before the justices."
"Oh, for that matter," answered Audrey, coolly, "I had as lief answer
the justices as you. The most part of them are my kinsfolk, and will
be as angered as I am at Justice Tomkins' cavalier treatment of me."
The clerk looked more and more distracted. "Madam," he cried, "'tis
beyond my power to pass it over. You must needs return with me to
Hunstanton and answer for yourself."
"Me! Take me to Hunstanton! Man, you are out of your wits! Do you
forget who you are speaking to?"
"No, madam," stammered the unhappy man, "but even ladies are not above
the law, and Justice Tomkins hath a hasty temper and I may not venture
to go back without I can give him a sufficient answer."
"'Tis impossible--unheard of," she repeated. "You will bring yourself
and your precious Justice Tomkins into trouble--he will be the laughing
stock of the neighbourhood when this mare's nest gets wind!"
The clerk nearly tore his hair. This young lady was enough to dash any
man's courage; but the justice--he was even more alarming. If he came
back empty handed, the justice's language would be forcible.
"Madam," he repeated helplessly, "I have no choice; I must needs take
you with me!"
Audrey's thoughts hurriedly summed up her situation. If, after all,
they did carry her to Hunstanton, it might draw the constables off from
Inglethorpe. And there would be at least this satisfaction when she
was face to face with Justice Tomkins, she would have her revenge. "A
miserable little ranting linen-draper," she muttered wrathfully. "I
can tell a tale or two about his love of old Noll in old times, and his
preachings and psalm-singings when they were the fashion, that will
make him sorry he has ever meddled with me! But, good lack! 'tis to be
hoped he is no wiser than his clerk, and does not know that every
cousin I have is out of the country, so that I can fright him with
their names. If I can but shuffle matters on for to-night, all will be
well. Swear a lie I cannot, but by to-morrow Richard will be surely on
the high seas, and then I'll swear all they please, and truly say I
know not where he is, I must e'en keep my fit of the sulks for
to-night. All will be well. I doubt not Richard will wait me at
Rotterdam, and will see that my stuff is safe bestowed somewhere. Pray
Heaven some maggot do not possess him to hang about here and double my
danger! But anyhow I can swear with a good conscience I know not where
he is!"
She consoled herself with these thoughts, and signified to the clerk
that as he had brute force on his side she was not prepared to resist
him; but it was with the offended dignity of a captured queen that she
followed the men from the house, when, to her dismay, Reed suddenly
turned to one of the constables.
"Catlin, you must abide here in possession. I cannot doubt our quarry
hath been here, and 'tis very like that he will slink back to such a
safe lair; therefore you must be in readiness to receive him. Mistress
Perrient can have your horse to carry her to Hunstanton."
With a blank face the constable heard the order, and with a sinking
heart Audrey was lifted on the spare horse as the cheerless winter
twilight was falling.
"Now my device is naught," she moaned to herself, "and 'tis too late to
change it! If Catlin were not such a very fool I should be clean
desperate--but 'tis plain writ in his foolish face that he will think
more of the Inglethorpe ghost than of any hunted Roundhead! So I must
but go through with it, and hope for the best!"
A cutting east wind lay in wait for them as they came out from the
shelter of the buildings, a wind that tore at Audrey's cloak, and
wrestled with the black furze bushes on the heath, till they heaved and
swayed like chained monsters striving to break loose. In spite of
herself, Audrey felt her courage flag. So much of it was merely due to
her natural buoyancy of health and spirits, and the sauciness of a
petted girl who had seldom known reproof. Now that she had taken such
a rash step, she began to doubt and fear. Her defiance had not drawn
off the enemy's forces. Had it been of any advantage at all? Was she
riding to prison for a mere fancy? Why should she scruple to tell a
white lie for once? But the lie would only secure her own freedom; the
constables would still hunt the country for Harrison, while now, she at
least divided their numbers and their suspicions. But suppose Richard
was so mad as to wait for news of her! Suppose he thought it cowardly
to fly and leave her in the lurch! Suppose he fell into another of
those despairing fits and threw himself into peril out of mere
recklessness?
"Ah me!" she sighed, "I know not how to order my own life, and here I
have a brother as well as a father to think for too!"
It was not an outburst of vanity; she had so long tended her
grandfather, and her father, that the only attitude she could conceive
to a new friend, was that of adopting him as some one else to be taken
care of. Even while she trusted to his strong right hand to be her
guard on her journey, she could not believe he could plan that journey
without her help.
The sandy road across the heath was hard with frost, and the little
party trotted swiftly on, and before an hour was past, the lights of
Hunstanton twinkled before them. At Justice Tomkins' door there was a
halt, and the clerk dismounted, and went to seek his employer's
instructions; he came back in a few minutes with a perturbed face, and
called the constable into the hall to a consultation. Tom Abbes'
sturdy voice was audible to Audrey, as she sat outside.
"If so be as his worship won't be disturbed, 'tis no fault of ourn.
And us can't put she in the lock-up; all the country would cry shame on
us," grumbled the good-natured constable.
"If only I had seen the justice before he dined, and had taken his
instructions!" sighed the clerk.
"See now, take her over to the Royal Oak; thee canst doo no wrong that
way," councilled Tom. "If justice won't attend to business, why,
justice must pay the bill."
A few steps more and the little party came out from the sheltered
street, and the full force of the wind met them with a mingled dash of
foam-flakes and sand. Half-blinded, Audrey was lifted from her horse,
and staggered into the shelter of the deep porch--a porch she knew only
too well. The Perrient arms were gone that once presided over the
stately entrance to Sir Gyles Perrient's house, and a great signboard,
daubed with a gaudy representation of an oak-tree, creaked as it swung
in the shrill night wind, but in all else her grandfather's mansion was
unchanged. Here was the home where she had reigned queen at
Hunstanton--where she had loved and been loved! The house and its
mistress had alike fallen on evil times; the mansion was an inn, and
Audrey Perrient was a prisoner!
Mr. Reed's summons was answered by the buxom landlady, whose cheerful
voice resounded through the house before she appeared at the door.
"Stars o' mine! what's that you say? Justice Tomkins in liquor?
That's no new tidings! What! Mistress Perrient without, with Tom
Constable! I'll never credit it! Stars o' mine! Justice must have
been pretty drunk before he sent you off on such a fool's errand! You
should see to him, Mr. Reed! But there! set a beggar on horseback, and
we all know where he'll ride to! Come your ways in, Mistress Perrient,
my dear, and don't you take on! 'Tis enough to make Sir Gyles get out
o' his grave, it is! Why it makes me swimmy like! 'Tis a pity Justice
Lestrange is out of town; but, for sure, 'twill be all right in the
morning, when our fine new justice is out of his cups, and fine and
shamed he'll be, I warrant! Will you please to come upstairs, madam.
'Tis strange to show you the way in your own house as should be; but
times do change, and if 'twere your own house you couldn't have a
cleaner hearth, nor fairer linen, nor one readier to serve you! And
what will you take to your supper, my dear? Just a drop of mulled
elderberry wine with a toast in it, to keep out the cold--and a wing of
a capon, now, couldn't you seem to fancy? Or anything else you could
give a name to, it would just be an honour to my house, Mistress
Perrient, my dear--madam, I should say; and here's Sally with a hot
posset, and that you shall taste whether you drink it or no. Why, Tom
Constable, what are you a-doing of? Turn the key on Mistress Perrient?
Do you reckon my house is a lock-up? That's a rare hearing! Not while
I am missis here! What's that you are grumbling? Tell justice on me!
Tell him and welcome; but stand out o' the way while Molly brings in
the feather bed."
Mr. Reed had fled before the good woman was fairly embarked on her
harangue, and she talked and worked, bustled about the room, and
scolded the maids, and hustled the constable, who stood shame-faced but
obstinate in the doorway. But by the time Mrs. Joyce had decked the
chamber with every luxury she could invent to do due honour to her
guest, her temper had cooled, and her prudence began to revive.
"Lackaday," she lamented, "if I meddle I may but make matters worse!
Thou great fool"--turning viciously on the constable, "it would do my
heart good to give thee a clout on the head! But I reckon 'tis treason
or such like to lay hands on a constable! I be fairly 'mazed! But my
dear--madam, I should say, do you take notice I lie in the next
chamber, and if you feel a bit swimmy or afeared in the night, if
you'll please to give a call, I'll up and serve you, spite of all the
constables in creation!"
Audrey could only smile as grateful an answer as her trembling lips
could muster, and the constable, catching a moment when Mrs. Joyce had
fairly talked herself out of breath, bundled her out of the room
without ceremony, and turned the key on the prisoner.