The Story of Francis Cludde

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER VII.

  ON BOARD THE "FRAMLINGHAM."

  I am told by people who have been seasick that the sound of the wavesbeating against the hull comes in time to be an intolerable torment.But bad as this may be, it can be nothing in comparison with the painsI suffered from the same cause, as I recovered my senses. My brainseemed to be a cavern into which each moment, with a rhythmicalregularity which added the pangs of anticipation to those of reality,the sea rushed, booming and thundering, jarring every nerve andstraining the walls to bursting, and making each moment ofconsciousness a vivid agony. And this lasted long; how long I cannotsay. But it had subsided somewhat when I first opened my eyes, anddully, not daring to move my head, looked up.

  I was lying on my back. About a foot from my eyes were rough beams ofwood disclosed by a smoky yellow light, which flickered on theknotholes and rude joists. The light swayed to and fro regularly; andthis adding to my pain, I closed my eyes with a moan. Then some onecame to me, and I heard voices which sounded a long way off, andpromptly fell again into a deep sleep, troubled still, but lesspainfully, by the same rhythmical shocks, the same dull crashings inmy brain.

  When I awoke again I had sense to know what caused this, and where Iwas--in a berth on board ship. The noise which had so troubled me wasthat of the waves beating against her forefoot. The beams so close tomy face formed the deck, the smoky light came from the ship's lanternswinging on a hook. I tried to turn. Some one came again, and withgentle hands arranged my pillow and presently began to feed me with aspoon. When I had swallowed a few mouthfuls I gained strength to turn.

  Who was this feeding me? The light was at her back and dazzled me.For a short while I took her for Petronilla, my thoughts going back atone bound to Coton, and skipping all that had happened since I lefthome. But as I grew stronger I grew clearer, and recalling bit by bitwhat had happened in the boat, I recognized Mistress Anne. I tried tomurmur thanks, but she laid a cool finger on my lips and shook herhead, smiling on me. "You must not talk," she murmured, "you aregetting well. Now go to sleep again."

  I shut my eyes at once as a child might. Another interval ofunconsciousness, painless this time, followed, and again I awoke. Iwas lying on my side now, and without moving could see the whole ofthe tiny cabin. The lantern still hung and smoked. But the light wassteady now, and I heard no splashing without, nor the dull groaningand creaking of the timbers within. There reigned a quiet which seemedbliss to me; and I lay wrapped in it, my thoughts growing clearer andclearer each moment.

  On a sea-chest at the farther end of the cabin were sitting two peopleengaged in talk. The one, a woman, I recognized immediately. The grayeyes full of command, the handsome features, the reddish-brown hairand gracious figure left me in no doubt, even for a moment, that Ilooked on Mistress Bertram. The sharer of her seat was a tall, thinman with a thoughtful face and dreamy, rather melancholy eyes. One ofher hands rested on his knee, and her lips as she talked were close tohis ear. A little aside, sitting on the lowest step of the ladderwhich led to the deck, her head leaning against the timbers, and acloak about her, was Mistress Anne.

  I tried to speak, and after more than one effort found my voice."Where am I?" I whispered. My head ached sadly, and I fancied, thoughI was too languid to raise my hand to it, that it was bandaged. Mymind was so far clear that I remembered Master Clarence and hispursuit and the fight in the boats, and knew that we ought to be onour way to prison. Who, then, was the mild, comely gentleman whoselength of limb made the cabin seem smaller than it was? Not a jailer,surely? Yet who else?

  I could compass no more than a whisper, but faint as my voice was theyall heard me, and looked up. "Anne!" the elder lady cried sharply,seeming by her tone to direct the other to attend to me. Yet was sheherself the first to rise, and come and lay her hand on my brow. "Ah!the fever is gone!" she said, speaking apparently to the gentleman,who kept his seat. "His head is quite cool. He will do well now, I amsure. Do you know me?" she continued, leaning over me.

  I looked up into her eyes, and read only kindness. "Yes," I muttered.But the effort of looking was so painful that I closed my eyes againwith a sigh. Nevertheless, my memory of the events which had gonebefore my illness grew clearer, and I fumbled feebly for somethingwhich should have been at my side. "Where is--where is my sword?" Imade shift to whisper.

  She laughed. "Show it to him, Anne," she said; "what a never-die itis! There, Master Knight Errant, we did not forget to bring it off thefield, you see!"

  "But how," I murmured, "how did you escape?" I saw that there was noquestion of a prison. Her laugh was gay, her voice full of content.

  "That is a long story," she answered kindly. "Are you well enough tohear it? You think you are? Then take some of this first. You rememberthat knave Philip striking you on the head with an oar as you got up?No? Well, it was a cowardly stroke, but it stood him in little stead,for we had drifted, in the excitement of the race, under the stern ofthe ship which you remember seeing a little before. There were Englishseamen on her; and when they saw three men in the act of boarding twodefenseless women, they stepped in, and threatened to send Clarenceand his crew to the bottom unless they sheered off."

  "Ha!" I murmured. "Good!"

  "And so we escaped. I prayed the captain to take us on board his ship,the _Framlingham_, and he did so. More, putting into Leigh on his wayto the Nore, he took off my husband. There he stands, and when you arebetter he shall thank you."

  "Nay, he will thank you now," said the tall man, rising and steppingto my berth with his head bent. He could not stand upright, so low wasthe deck. "But for you," he continued, his earnestness showing in hisvoice and eyes--the latter were almost too tender for a man's--"mywife would be now lying in prison, her life in jeopardy, and herproperty as good as gone. She has told me how bravely you rescued herfrom that cur in Cheapside, and how your presence of mind baffled thewatch at the riverside. It is well, young gentleman. It is very well.But these things call for other returns than words. When it lies inher power my wife will make them; if not to-day, to-morrow, and if notto-morrow, the day after."

  I was very weak, and his words brought the tears to my eyes. "She hassaved my life already," I murmured.

  "You foolish boy!" she cried, smiling down on me, her hand on herhusband's shoulder. "You got your head broken in my defense. It was agreat thing, was it not, that I did not leave you to die in the boat?There, make haste and get well. You have talked enough now. Go tosleep, or we shall have the fever back again."

  "One thing first," I pleaded. "Tell me whither we are going."

  "In a few hours we shall be at Dort in Holland," she answered. "But becontent. We will take care of you, and send you back if you will, oryou shall still come with us; as you please. Be content. Go to sleepnow and get strong. Presently, perhaps, we shall have need of yourhelp again."

  They went and sat down then on their former seat and talked inwhispers, while Mistress Anne shook up my pillows, and laid a freshcool bandage on my head. I was too weak to speak my gratitude, but Itried to look it and so fell asleep again, her hand in mine, and thewondrous smile of those lustrous eyes the last impression of which Iwas conscious.

  A long dreamless sleep followed. When I awoke once more the lightstill hung steady, but the peacefulness of night was gone. We lay inthe midst of turmoil. The scampering of feet over the deck above me,the creaking of the windlass, the bumping and clattering of barrelshoisted in or hoisted out, the harsh sound of voices raised in aforeign tongue and in queer keys, sufficed as I grew wide-awake totell me we were in port.

  But the cabin was empty, and I lay for some time gazing at its drearyinterior, and wondering what was to become of me. Presently an uneasyfear crept into my mind. What if my companions had deserted me? Alone,ill, and penniless in a foreign land, what should I do? This fear inmy sick state was so terrible that I struggled to get up, and withreeling brain and nerveless hands did get out of my berth. But thisfeat accomplished I found that
I could not stand. Everything swambefore my eyes. I could not take a single step, but remained, clinginghelplessly to the edge of my berth, despair at my heart. I tried tocall out, but my voice rose little above a whisper, and the bangingand shrieking, the babel without went on endlessly. Oh, it was cruel!cruel! They had left me!

  I think my senses were leaving me too, when I felt an arm about mywaist, and found Mistress Anne by my side guiding me to the chest. Isat down on it, the certainty of my helplessness and the sudden reliefof her presence bringing the tears to my eyes. She fanned me, and gaveme some restorative, chiding me the while for getting out of my berth.

  "I thought that you had gone and left me," I muttered. I was as weakas a child.

  She said cheerily: "Did you leave us when we were in trouble? Ofcourse you did not. There, take some more of this. After all, it iswell you are up, for in a short time we must move you to the otherboat."

  "The other boat?"

  "Yes, we are at Dort, you know. And we are going by the Waal, a branchof the Rhine, to Arnheim. But the boat is here, close to this one,and, with help, I think you will be able to walk to it."

  "I am sure I shall if you will give me your arm," I answeredgratefully.

  "But you will not think again," she replied, "that we have desertedyou?"

  "No," I said. "I will trust you always."

  I wondered why a shadow crossed her face at that. But I had no time todo more than wonder, for Master Bertram, coming down, brought oursitting to an end. She bustled about to wrap me up, and somehow,partly walking, partly carried, I was got on deck. There I sat down ona bale to recover myself, and felt at once much the better for thefresh, keen air, the clear sky and wintry sunshine which welcomed meto a foreign land.

  On the outer side of the vessel stretched a wide expanse of turbidwater, five or six times as wide as the Thames at London, andfoam-flecked here and there by the up-running tide. On the other sidewas a wide and spacious quay, paved neatly with round stones, andpiled here and there with merchandise; but possessing, by virtue ofthe lines of leafless elms which bordered it, a quaint air ofrusticity in the midst of bustle. The sober bearing of the sturdylandsmen, going quietly about their business, accorded well with thesubstantial comfort of the rows of tall, steep-roofed houses I sawbeyond the quay, and seemed only made more homely by the occasionalswagger and uncouth cry of some half-barbarous seaman, wanderingaimlessly about. Above the town rose the heavy square tower of achurch, a notable landmark where all around, land and water, lay solow, where the horizon seemed so far, and the sky so wide and breezy.

  "So you have made up your mind to come with us," said Master Bertram,returning to my side--he had left me to make some arrangements. "Youunderstand that if you would prefer to go home I can secure yourtendance here by good, kindly people, and provide for your passageback when you feel strong enough to cross. You understand that? Andthat the choice is entirely your own? So which will you do?"

  I changed color and felt I did. I shrunk, as being well and strong Ishould not have shrunk, from losing sight of those three faces which Ihad known for so short a time, yet which alone stood between myselfand loneliness. "I would rather come with you," I stammered. "But Ishall be a great burden to you now, I fear."

  "It is not that," he replied, with hearty assurance in his voice. "Aweek's rest and quiet will restore you to strength, and then theburden will be on the other shoulder. It is for your own sake I giveyou the choice, because our future is for the time uncertain. Veryuncertain," he repeated, his brow clouding over; "and to become ourcompanion may expose you to fresh dangers. We are refugees fromEngland; that you probably guess. Our plan was to go to France, whereare many of our friends, and where we could live safely until bettertimes. You know how that plan was frustrated. Here the Spaniards aremasters--Prince Philip's people; and if we are recognized, we shall bearrested and sent back to England. Still, my wife and I must make thebest of it. The hue and cry will not follow us for some days, andthere is still a degree of independence in the cities of Holland whichmay, since I have friends here, protect us for a time. Now you knowsomething of our position, my friend. You can make your choice withyour eyes open. Either way we shall not forget you."

  "I will go on with you, if you please," I answered at once. "I, too,cannot go home." And as I said this, Mistress Bertram also came up,and I took her hand in mine--which looked, by the way, so strangelythin I scarcely recognized it--and kissed it. "I will come with you,madam, if you will let me," I said.

  "Good!" she replied, her eyes sparkling. "I said you would! I do notmind telling you now that I am glad of it. And if ever we return toEngland, as God grant we may and soon, you shall not regret yourdecision. Shall he, Richard?"

  "If you say he shall not, my dear," he responded, smiling at herenthusiasm, "I think I may answer for it he will not."

  I was struck then, as I had been before, by a certain air of deferencewhich the husband assumed toward the wife. It did not surprise me, forher bearing and manner, as well as such of her actions as I had seen,stamped her as singularly self-reliant and independent for a woman;and to these qualities, as much as to the rather dreamy character ofthe husband, I was content to set down the peculiarity. I should addthat a rare and pretty tenderness constantly displayed on her parttoward him robbed it of any semblance of unseemliness.

  They saw that the exertion of talking exhausted me, and so, with anencouraging nod, left me to myself. A few minutes later a couple ofEnglish sailors, belonging to the _Framlingham_, came up, and withgentle strength transported me, under Mistress Anne's directions, to aqueer-looking wide-beamed boat which lay almost alongside. She wasmore like a huge Thames barge than anything else, for she drew littlewater, but had a great expanse of sail when all was set. There was alarge deck-house, gay with paint and as clean as it could be; and in acompartment at one end of this--which seemed to be assigned to ourparty--I was soon comfortably settled.

  Exhausted as I was by the excitement of sitting up and being moved, Iknew little of what passed about me for the next two days, andremember less. I slept and ate, and sometimes awoke to wonder where Iwas. But the meals and the vague attempts at thought made scarcelymore impression on my mind than the sleep. Yet all the while I wasgaining strength rapidly, my youth and health standing me in goodstead. The wound in my head, which had caused great loss of blood,healed all one way, as we say in Warwickshire; and about noon, on thesecond day after leaving Dort, I was well enough to reach the deckunassisted, and sit in the sunshine on a pile of rugs which MistressAnne, my constant nurse, had laid for me in a corner sheltered fromthe wind.

  * * * * *

  Fortunately the weather was mild and warm, and the sunshine fellbrightly on the wide river and the wider plain of pasture whichstretched away on either side of the horizon, dotted, here and thereonly, by a windmill, a farmhouse, the steeple of a church, the brownsails of a barge, or at most broken by a low dike or a line ofsand-dunes. All was open, free; all was largeness, space, anddistance. I gazed astonished.

  The husband and wife, who were pacing the deck forward, came to me. Henoticed the wondering looks I cast round. "This is new to you?" hesaid smiling.

  "Quite--quite new," I answered. "I never imagined anything so flat,and yet in its way so beautiful."

  "You do not know Lincolnshire?"

  "No."

  "Ah, that is my native county," he answered. "It is much like this.But you are better, and you can talk again. Now I and my wife havebeen discussing whether we shall tell you more about ourselves. Andsince there is no time like the present I may say that we have decidedto trust you."

  "All in all or not at all," Mistress Bertram added brightly.

  I murmured my thanks.

  "Then, first to tell you who we are. For myself I am plain RichardBertie of Lincolnshire, at your service. My wife is something morethan appears from this, or"--with a smile--"from her present not toograceful dress. She is----"

  "Stop, Richard! This is not suff
iciently formal," my lady criedprettily. "I have the honor to present to you, young gentleman," shewent on, laughing merrily and making a very grand courtesy before me,"Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk."

  I made shift to get to my feet, and bowed respectfully, but she forcedme to sit down again. "Enough of that," she said lightly, "until we goback to England. Here and for the future we are Master Bertram and hiswife. And this young lady, my distant kinswoman, Anne Brandon, mustpass as Mistress Anne. You wonder how we came to be straying in thestreets alone and unattended when you found us?"

  I did wonder, for the name of the gay and brilliant Duchess ofSuffolk was well known even to me, a country lad. Her former husband,Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, had been not only the one trustedand constant friend of King Henry the Eighth, but the king'sbrother-in-law, his first wife having been Mary, Princess of Englandand Queen Dowager of France. Late in his splendid and prosperouscareer the Duke had married Katherine, the heiress of Lord Willoughbyde Eresby, and she it was who stood before me, still young andhandsome. After her husband's death she had made England ring with hername, first by a love match with a Lincolnshire squire, and secondlyby her fearless and outspoken defense of the reformers. I did wonderindeed how she had come to be wandering in the streets at daybreak, anobject of a chance passer's chivalry and pity.

  "It is simple enough," she said dryly; "I am rich, I am a Protestant,and I have an enemy. When I do not like a person I speak out. Do Inot, Richard?"

  "You do indeed, my dear," he answered smiling.

  "And once I spoke out to Bishop Gardiner. What! Do you know StephenGardiner?"

  For I had started at the name, after which I could scarcely haveconcealed my knowledge if I would. So I answered simply, "Yes, I haveseen him." I was thinking how wonderful this was. These people hadbeen utter strangers to me until a day or two before, yet now we wereall looking out together from the deck of a Dutch boat on the lowDutch landscape, united by one tie, the enmity of the same man.

  "He is a man to be dreaded," the Duchess continued, her eyes restingon her baby, which lay asleep on my bundle of rugs--and I guessed whatfear it was had tamed her pride to flight. "His power in England isabsolute. We learned that it was his purpose to arrest me, anddetermined to leave England. But our very household was full of spies,and though we chose a time when Clarence, our steward, whom we hadlong suspected of being Gardiner's chief tool, was away, Philip, hisdeputy, gained a clew to our design, and watched us. We gave him theslip with difficulty, leaving our luggage, but he dogged and overtookus, and the rest you know."

  I bowed. As I gazed at her, my admiration, I know, shone in my eyes.She looked, as she stood on the deck, an exile and fugitive, so gay,so bright, so indomitable, that in herself she was at once a warrantyand an omen of better times. The breeze had heightened her color andloosened here and there a tress of her auburn hair. No wonder MasterBertie looked proudly on his Duchess.

  Suddenly a thing I had clean forgotten flashed into my mind, and Ithrust my hand into my pocket. The action was so abrupt that itattracted their attention, and when I pulled out a packet--twopackets--there were three pairs of eyes upon me. The seal dangled fromone missive. "What have you there?" the Duchess asked briskly, for shewas a woman, and curious. "Do you carry the deeds of your propertyabout with you?"

  "No," I said, not unwilling to make a small sensation. "This touchesyour Grace."

  "Hush!" she cried, raising one imperious finger. "Transgressingalready? From this time forth I am Mistress Bertram, remember. Butcome," she went on, eying the packet with the seal inquisitively, "howdoes it touch me?"

  I put it silently into her hands, and she opened it and read a fewlines, her husband peeping over her shoulder. As she read her browdarkened, her eyes grew hard. Master Bertie's face changed with hers,and they both peeped suddenly at me over the edge of the parchment,suspicion and hostility in their glances. "How came you by this, youngsir?" he said slowly, after a long pause. "Have we escaped Peter tofall into the hands of Paul?"

  "No, no!" I cried hurriedly. I saw that I had made a greater sensationthan I had bargained for. I hastened to tell them how I had met withGardiner's servant at Stony Stratford, and how I had become possessedof his credentials. They laughed of course--indeed they laughed soloudly that the placid Dutchmen, standing aft with their hands intheir breeches-pockets, stared open-mouthed at us, and the kindredcattle on the bank looked mildly up from the knee-deep grass.

  "And what was the other packet?" the Duchess asked presently. "Is thatit in your hand?"

  "Yes," I answered, holding it up with some reluctance. "It seems to bea letter addressed to Mistress Clarence."

  "Clarence!" she cried. "Clarence!" arresting the hand she wasextending. "What! Here is our friend again then. What is in it? Youhave opened it?"

  "No."

  "You have not? Then quick, open it!" she exclaimed. "This too touchesus, I will bet a penny. Let us see at once what it contains. Clarenceindeed! Perhaps we may have him on the hip yet, the arch-traitor!"

  But I held the pocket-book back, though my cheeks reddened and I knewI must seem foolish. They made certain that this letter was acommunication to some spy, probably to Clarence himself under cover ofa feminine address. Perhaps it was, but it bore a woman's name and itwas sealed; and foolish though I might be, I would not betray thewoman's secret.

  "No, madam," I said confused, awkward, stammering, yet withholding itwith a secret obstinacy; "pardon me if I do not obey you--if I do notlet this be opened. It may be what you say," I added with an effort;"but it may also contain an honest secret, and that a woman's."

  "What do you say?" cried the Duchess; "here are scruples!" At that herhusband smiled, and I looked in despair from him to Mistress Anne.Would she sympathize with my feelings? I found that she had turned herback on us, and was gazing over the side. "Do you really mean,"continued the Duchess, tapping her foot sharply on the deck, "that youare not going to open that, you foolish boy?"

  "I do--with your Grace's leave," I answered.

  "Or without my Grace's leave! That is what you mean," she retortedpettishly, a red spot in each cheek. "When people will not do what Iask, it is always, Grace! Grace! Grace! But I know them now."

  I dared not smile; and I would not look up, lest my heart should failme and I should give her her way.

  "You foolish boy!" she again said, and sniffed. Then with a toss ofher head she went away, her husband following her obediently.

  I feared that she was grievously offended, and I got up restlessly andwent across the deck to the rail on which Mistress Anne was leaning,meaning to say something which should gain for me her sympathy,perhaps her advice. But the words died on my lips, for as I approachedshe turned her face abruptly toward me, and it was so white, sohaggard, so drawn, that I uttered a cry of alarm. "You are ill!" Iexclaimed. "Let me call the Duchess!"

  She gripped my sleeve almost fiercely, "Hush!" she muttered. "Donothing of the kind. I am not well. It is the water. But it will passoff, if you do not notice it. I hate to be noticed," she added, withan angry shrug.

  I was full of pity for her and reproached myself sorely. "What aselfish brute I have been!" I said. "You have watched by me nightafter night, and nursed me day after day, and I have scarcely thankedyou. And now you are ill yourself. It is my fault!"

  She looked at me, a wan smile on her face. "A little, perhaps," sheanswered faintly. "But it is chiefly the water. I shall be betterpresently. About that letter--did you not come to speak to me aboutit?"

  "Never mind it now," I said anxiously. "Will you not lie down on therugs awhile? Let me give you my place," I pleaded.

  "No, no!" she cried impatiently; and seeing I vexed her by myimportunity, I desisted. "The letter," she went on; "you will open itby and by?"

  "No," I said slowly, considering, to tell the truth, the strength ofmy resolution, "I think I shall not."

  "You will! you will!" she repeated, with a kind of scorn. "The Duchesswill ask you again, and you will give it to her. Of co
urse you will!"

  Her tone was strangely querulous, and her eyes continually flashedkeen, biting glances at me. But I thought only that she was ill andexcited, and I fancied it was best to humor her. "Well, perhaps Ishall," I said soothingly. "Possibly. It is hard to refuse heranything. And yet I hope I may not. The girl--it may be a girl'ssecret."

  "Well?" she asked, interrupting me abruptly, her voice harsh andunmusical. "What of her?" She laid her hand on her bosom as though tostill some secret pain. I looked at her, anxious and wondering, butshe had again averted her face. "What of her?" she repeated.

  "Only that--I would not willingly hurt her!" I blurted out.

  She did not answer. She stood a moment, then to my surprise she turnedaway without a word, and merely commanding me by a gesture of the handnot to follow, walked slowly away. I watched her cross the deck andpass through the doorway into the deck-house. She did not once turnher face, and my only fear was that she was ill; more seriously ill,perhaps, than she had acknowledged.