so we shall be out of trouble.' I have asked Mr. Martin what these words should mean; whereupon he told me the white horse, which indeed I might have known, was the Earl of Arundel's cognisance; and that the times were very troublesome, and plots were spoken of in the North anent the Queen of Scots, her majesty the queen's cousin, who is at Chatesworth; and when he said that, all of a sudden I grew red, and my cheeks burned like two hot coals; but he took no heed, and said, 'A true servant might well wish his master out of trouble, when troubles were so rife.' And now shame take me for taking up so much of your time, which should be spent in more profitable ways than the reading of my poor letters; and I must needs beg you to write soon, and hold me as long as I have held you, and love me, sweet one, as I love you. My Lady Margaret, who is in a sense twice my sister, says she is jealous of Mistress Constance Sherwood, and would steal away my heart from her; but, though she is a winsome and cunning thief in such matters, I warrant you she shall fail therein. And so, commending myself to your good prayers, I remain
"Your true friend and loving servant, "ANN SURREY."
As I finished and was folding up my letter the clock struck nine. Itwas waning darker without by reason of a cloud which had obscured themoon. I heard my father still pacing up and down the gravel-walk, andever and anon staying his footsteps awhile, as if watching. After ashort space the moon shone out again, and I saw the shadows of twopersons against the wall of the kitchen garden. Presently thehall-door was fastened and bolted, as I knew by the rattling of thechain which hung across it. Then my father looked in at the door andsaid, "'Tis time, goodwife, for young folks to be abed." Upon which mymother rose and made as if she was about to withdraw to herbed-chamber. Edmund followed us up stairs, and, wishing us bothgood-night, went into the closet where he slept. Then my mother,taking me by the hand, led me into my father's study.
CHAPTER III.
As I entered the library, which my father used for purposes ofbusiness as well as of study, I saw a gentleman who had often been atour house before, and whom I knew to be a priest, though he wasdressed as a working-man of the better sort and had on a riding coatof coarse materials. He beckoned me to him, and I, kneeling, receivedhis blessing.
"What, up yet, little one?" he said; "and yet thou must bestir thyselfbetimes to-morrow for prayers. These are not days in which priests mayplay the sluggard and be found abed when the sun rises."
"At what hour must you be on foot, reverend father?" my mother asked,as sitting down at a table by his side she filled his plate withwhatever might tempt him to eat, the which he seemed little inclinedto.
"Before dawn, good Mrs. Sherwood," he answered; "and across the fieldsinto the forest before ever the laboring men are astir; and you knowbest when that is."
"An if it be so, which I fear it must," my father said, "we must e'enhave the chapel ready by two o'clock. And, goodwife, you shouldpresently get that wench to bed."
"Nay, good mother," I cried, and threw my arms round her waist,"prithee let me sit up to-night; I can lie abed all to-morrow." Sowistfully and urgently did I plead, that she, who had grown of latesomewhat loth to deny any request of mine, yielded to my entreaties,and only willed that I should lie down on a settle betwixt her chairand the chimney, in which a fagot was blazing, though it wassummer-time, but the weather was chilly. I gazed by turns on mymother's pale face and my father's, which was thoughtful, and on thegood priest's, who was in an easy-chair, wherein they had compelledhim to sit, opposite to me on the other side of the chimney. Helooked, as I remember him then, as if in body and in mind he hadsuffered more than he could almost bear.
After some discourse had been ministered betwixt him and my father ofthe journey he had been taking, and the friends he had seen since lasthe had visited our house, my mother said, in a tremulous voice, "Andnow, good Mr. Mush, an if it would not pain you too sorely, tell us ifit be true that your dear daughter in Christ, Mrs. Clitherow, asindeed won the martyr's crown, as some letters from York reported tous a short time back?"
Upon this Mr. Mush raised his head, which had sunk on his breast, andsaid, "She that was my spiritual daughter in times past, and now, as Ihumbly hope, my glorious mother in heaven, the gracious martyr Mrs.Clitherow, has overcome all her enemies, and passed from this mortallife with rare and marvellous triumph into the peaceable city of God,there to receive a worthy crown of endless immortality and joy." Hiseye, that had been before heavy and dim, now shone with sudden light,and it seemed as if the cord about his heart was loosed, and hisspirit found vent at last in words after a long and painful silence.More eloquent still was his countenance than his words as heexclaimed, "Torments overcame her not, nor the sweetness of life, norher vehement affection for husband and children, nor theflattering allurements and deceitful promises of the persecutors.Finally, the world, the flesh, and the devil overcame her not. She, awoman, with invincible courage entered combat against them all, todefend the ancient faith, wherein both she and her enemies werebaptized and gave their promise to God to keep the same until death. Osacred martyr!" and, with clasped hands and streaming eyes, the goodfather went on, "remember me, I beseech thee humbly, in thy perfectcharity, whom thou hast left miserable behind thee, in time past thyunworthy father and now most unworthy servant, made ever joyful by thyvirtuous life, and now lamenting thy death and thy absence, and yetrejoicing in thy glory."
A sob burst from my mother's breast, and she hid her face against myfather's shoulder. There was a brief silence, during which manyquickly-rising thoughts passed through my mind. Of Daniel in thelions' den, and the Machabees and the early Christians; and of thegreat store of blood which had been shed of late in this our country,and of which amongst the slain were truly martyrs, and which were not;of the vision in the sky which had been seen at Lichfield; and chieflyof that blessed woman Mrs. Clitherow, whose virtue and good works Ihad often before heard of, such as serving the poor and harboringpriests, and loving God's Church with a wonderful affection greaterthan can be thought of. Then I heard my father say, "How was it at thelast, good Mr. Mush?" I oped my eyes, and hung on the lips of the goodpriest even as if to devour his words as he gave utterance to them.
"She refused to be tried by the country," he answered, in a tremulousvoice; "and so they murthered her."
"How so?" my mother asked, shading her eyes with her hand, as if toexclude the mental sight of that which she yet sought to know.
"They pressed her to death," he slowly uttered; "and the last wordsshe was heard to say were 'Jesu, Jesu, Jesu! have mercy on me!' Shewas in dying about a quarter of an hour, and then her blessed spiritwas released and took its flight to heaven. May we die the death ofthe righteous, and may our last end be like hers!"
Again my mother hid her face in my father's bosom, and methought shesaid not "Amen" to that prayer; but turning to Mr. Mush with a flushedcheek and troubled eye, she asked, "And why did the blessed Mrs.Clitherow refuse to be tried by the country, reverend father, andthereby subject herself to that lingering death?"
"These were her words when questioned and urged on that point," heanswered, "which sufficiently clear her from all accusation ofobstinacy or desperation, and combine the rare discretion and charitywhich were in her at all times: 'Alas!' quoth she, 'if I should haveput myself on the country, evidence must needs have come against metouching my harboring of priests and the holy sacrifice of the mass inmy house, which I know none could give but only my children andservants; and it would have been to me more grievous than a thousanddeaths if I should have seen any of them brought forth before me, togive evidence against me in so good a cause and be guilty of my blood;and, secondly,' quoth she, 'I know well the country must needs havefound me guilty to please the council, who so earnestly seek my blood,and then all they had been accessory to my death and damnably offendedGod. I therefore think, in the way of charity, for my part to hinderthe country from such a sin; and seeing it must needs be done, tocause as few to do it as might be; and that was the judge himself.' Soshe thought, and thereupon s
he acted, with that single view to God'sglory and the good of men's souls that was ever the passion of herfervent spirit."
"Her children?" my mother murmured in a faint voice, still hiding herface from him. "That little Agnes you used to tell us of, thatwas so dear to her poor mother, how has it fared with her?"
Mr. Mush answered, "Her _happy_ mother sent her hose and shoes to herdaughter at the last, signifying that she should serve God and followher steps of virtue. She was committed to ward because she would notbetray her mother, and there whipped and extremely used for that shewould not go to the church and hear a sermon. When her mother
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