All's Well

by Emily Sarah Holt

  CHAPTER THIRTY.

  PUZZLED.

  Old Margery Danby, the housekeeper at Primrose Croft, was morethoroughly trustworthy than Mr Roberts had supposed, not only in will--for which he gave her full credit--but in capacity, which he haddoubted. Born in the first year of Henry the Seventh, Margery had heardstirring tales in her childhood from parents who had lived through theWars of the Roses, and she too well remembered Kett's rebellion and theenclosure riots in King Edward's days, not to know that "speech issilvern, but silence is golden." The quiet, observant old woman knewperfectly well that something was "in the wind." It was not hermaster's wont to look back, and say, "Farewell, Margery!" before hemounted his horse on a Tuesday morning for his weekly visit to thecloth-works; and it was still less usual for Gertrude to remark,"Good-morrow, good Margery!" before she went out for a walk with Jack.Mistress Grena, too, had called her into her own room the night before,and told her she had thought for some time of making her a littlepresent, as a recognition of her long care and fidelity, and had givenher two royals--the older name for half-sovereigns. Margery silently"put two and two together," and the result was to convince her thatsomething was about to happen. Nor did she suffer from any seriousdoubts as to what it was. She superintended the preparation of supperon that eventful day with a settled conviction that nobody would be athome to eat it; and when the hours passed away, and nobody returned, theexcitement of Cicely the chamber-maid, and Dick the scullion-boy, wasnot in the least shared by her. Moreover, she had seen with someamusement Mr Bastian's approach and subsequent retreat, and sheexpected to see him again ere long. When the bell rang the next morningabout eight o'clock, Margery went to answer it herself, and foundherself confronting the gentleman she had anticipated.

  "Christ save all here!" said the priest, in reply to Margery'sreverential curtsey. "Is your master within, good woman?"

  "No, Father, an't like you."

  "No? He is not wont to go forth thus early. Mistress Grena?"

  "No, Sir, nor Mistress Gertrude neither."

  The priest lifted his eyebrows. "All hence! whither be they gone?"

  "An' it please you, Sir, I know not."

  "That is strange. Went they together?"

  "No, Sir, separate."

  "Said they nought touching their absence?"

  "Not to me, Father."

  "Have you no fantasy at all whither they went?"

  "I took it, Sir, that my master went to the works, as he is wont of aTuesday; and I thought Mistress Grena was a-visiting some friend.Touching Mistress Gertrude I can say nought."

  "She went not forth alone, surely?"

  "She took Jack withal, Sir--none else."

  The conviction was slowly growing in Mr Bastian's mind that the wave ofthat feathery tail had deprived him of the only means of communicationwhich he was ever likely to have with Gertrude Roberts. "The sly minx!"he said to himself. Then aloud to Margery, "Do I take you rightly thatall they departed yesterday, and have not yet returned?"

  "That is sooth, Father."

  Margery stood holding the door, with a calm, stolid face, which lookedas if an earthquake would neither astonish nor excite her. Mr Bastiantook another arrow from his quiver, one which he generally found to doconsiderable execution.

  "Woman," he said sternly, "you know more than you have told me!"

  "Father, with all reverence, I know no more than you."

  Her eyes met his with no appearance of insincerity.

  "Send Osmund to me," he said, walking into the house, and laying downhis hat and stick on the settle in the hall.

  "Sir, under your good pleasure, Osmund went with Mistress."

  "And turned not again?"

  "He hath not come back here, Sir."

  "Then they have taken flight!" cried the priest in a passion. "MargeryDanby, as you fear the judgment of the Church, and value her favour, Ibid you tell me whither they are gone."

  "Sir, even for holy Church's favour, I cannot say that which I knownot."

  "On your soul's salvation, do you not know it?" he said solemnly.

  "On my soul's salvation, Sir, I know it not."

  The priest strode up and down the hall more than once. Then he came andfaced Margery, who was now standing beside the wide fireplace in thehall.

  "Have you any guess whither your master may be gone, or thegentlewomen?"

  "I've guessed a many things since yester-even, Sir," answered Margeryquietly, "but which is right and which is wrong I can't tell."

  "When Mistress Collenwood and Mistress Pandora went hence secretly inthe night-time, knew you thereof, beforehand?"

  "Surely no, Father."

  "Had you any ado with their departing?"

  "The first thing I knew or guessed thereof, Father, was the next morrow,when I came into the hall and saw them not."

  Mr Bastian felt baffled on every side. That his prey had eluded himjust in time to escape the trap he meant to lay for them, was manifest.What his next step was to be, was not equally clear.

  "Well!" he said at last with a disappointed air, "if you know nought,'tis plain you can tell nought. I must essay to find some that can."

  "I have told you all I know, Father," was the calm answer. But Margerydid not say that she had told all she thought, nor that if she had knownmore she would have revealed it.

  Mr Bastian took up his hat and stick, pausing for a moment at the doorto ask, "Is that black beast come back?"

  "Jack is not returned, Sir," answered the housekeeper.

  It was with a mingled sense of relief and uneasiness on that point thatthe priest took the road through the village. That Jack was out of theway was a delicious relief. But suppose Jack should spring suddenly onhim out of some hedge, or on turning a corner? Out of the way mightturn out to be all the more surely in it.

  Undisturbed, however, by any vision of a black face and a feathery tail,Mr Bastian reached Roger Hall's door. Nell opened it, and unwillinglyadmitted that her master was at home, Mr Bastian being so early thatRoger had not yet left his house for the works. Roger received him inhis little parlour, to which Christie had not yet been carried.

  "Hall, are you aware of your master's flight?"

  Roger Hall opened his eyes in genuine amazement.

  "No, Sir! Is he gone, then?"

  "He never returned home after leaving the works yesterday."

  Roger's face expressed nothing but honest concern for his master'swelfare. "He left the works scarce past three of the clock," said he,"and took the road toward Primrose Croft. God grant none ill hathbefallen him!"

  "Nought o' the sort," said the priest bluntly. "The gentlewomen be gonebelike, and Osmund with them. 'Tis a concerted plan, not a doubtthereof: and smelleth of the fire [implies heretical opinions], or Imistake greatly. Knew you nought thereof? Have a care how you makeanswer!"

  "Father, you have right well amazed me but to hear it. Most surely Iknew nought, saving only that when I returned home yestre'en, my littlemaid told me Mistress Grena had been so good as to visit her, and hadbrought her a cake and a posy of flowers from the garden. But if Osmundwere with her or no, that did I not hear."

  "Was Mistress Grena wont to visit your daughter?"

  "By times, Father: not very often."

  As all his neighbours must be aware of Mistress Grena's visit, Rogerthought it the wisest plan to be perfectly frank on that point.

  "Ask at Christabel if she wist whether Osmund came withal."

  Roger made the inquiry, and returned with the information thatChristabel did not know. From her couch she could only see the horse'sears, and had not noticed who was with it.

  "'Tis strange matter," said the priest severely, "that a gentleman ofmeans and station, with his sister, and daughter, and servant, coulddisappear thus utterly, and none know thereof!"

  "It is, Father, in very deed," replied Roger sympathisingly.

  "I pray you, Hall, make full inquiry at the works, and give me to wit ifaught be known thereo
f. Remember, you are somewhat under a cloud fromyour near kinship to Alice Benden, and diligence in this matter may doyou a good turn with holy Church."

  "Sir, I will make inquiry at the works," was the answer, which did notconvey Roger's intention to make no use of the inquiries that coulddamage his master, nor his settled conviction that no information was tobe had.

  The only person at all likely to know more than himself was the cashierat the works, since he lived between Cranbrook and Primrose Croft, andRoger carefully timed his inquiries so as not to include him. Theresult was what he expected--no one could tell him anything. He quicklyand diligently communicated this interesting fact to the priest'sservant, his master not being at home; and Mr Bastian was more puzzledthan ever. The nine days' wonder gradually died down. On the Thursdayevening Mr Justice Roberts came home, and was met by the news of hisbrother's disappearance, with his family. He was so astonished that hesat open-mouthed, knife and spoon in hand, while his favourite dish ofbroiled fowl grew cold, until he had heard all that Martha had to tellhim. Supper was no sooner over, than off he set to Primrose Croft.

  "Well, Madge, old woman!" said he to the old housekeeper, who had oncebeen his nurse, "this is strange matter, surely! Is all true thatMartha tells me? Be all they gone, and none wist how nor whither?"

  "Come in, and sit you down by the fire, Master Anthony," said Margery,in whose heart was a very soft spot for her sometime nursling, "and I'lltell you all I know. Here's the master's keys, they'll maybe be saferin your hands than mine; he didn't leave 'em wi' me, but I went roundthe house and picked 'em all up, and locked everything away from themprying maids and that young jackanapes of a Dickon. Some he must ha'took with him; but he's left the key of the old press, look you, andthat label hanging from it."

  The Justice looked at the label, and saw his own name written in hisbrother's writing.

  "Ha! maybe he would have me open the press and search for somewhat. Letus go to his closet, Madge. Thou canst tell me the rest there, while Isee what this meaneth."

  "There's scarce any rest to tell, Mr Anthony; only they are all gone--Master, and Mistress Grena, and Mistress Gertrude, and Osmund, and bayPhilbert, and the black mare, and old Jack."

  "What, Jack gone belike! Dear heart alive! Why, Madge, that hathlittle look of coming again."

  "It hasn't, Mr Anthony; and one of Mistress Gertrude's boxes, that shekeeps her gems in, lieth open and empty in her chamber."

  The Justice whistled softly as he fitted the key in the lock.