Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

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Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 54

by Georgiana Fullerton

not to hell,Master Rugeley, I speak the truth, and my warning is an urgent one."

  Then I heard some one within the house, who said, "Open the door,Master Rugeley. I should know that voice. Let the speaker in."

  Methought I, too, knew the voice of the person who thus spoke. Thedoor was opened, and I entered a room dimly lighted by one candle.

  "Oh, for God's sake," I cried, "if a priest is here, hide himforthwith."

  "Are you a Catholic, my child?"

  I looked up to the person who put this question to me, and gave asudden cry, I know not whether of terror or joy; for great as was thechange which the lapse of years, and great inward and outward changes,had wrought in his aspect, I saw it was my father.

  "I am Constance," I cried; "Constance Sherwood! Oh, my dear father!"and then fell at his feet weeping.

  After an instant's, astonishment and fixed gazing on my face, herecognized me, who was, I doubt not, more changed than himself, andreceived me with a great paternal kindness and the tenderest greetingimaginable, yet tempered with reserve and so much of restraint asshould befit one who, for Christ's sake, had dissevered himself fromthe joys, albeit not from the affections, of the natural heart.

  "Oh, my good child, my own dear Constance," he said; "hath God in hisbounty given thy poor father a miraculous sight of thee before hisdeath, or art thou come verily in flesh and blood to warn him of hisdanger?"

  "My dear and honored father," I replied, "time presses; peril isindeed at hand, if you and Mr. Tunstall are the same person."

  "The wounds in my hands," he answered, "must prove me such, albeit nowhealed by the care of that good Samaritan, Lady l'Estrange. Butprithee, my good child, whence comest thou?"

  "Alas!" I said; "and yet not alas, if God should be so good to me asby my means to save you, I am Sir Hammond's guest, being a friend ofhis lady's. I came there yesterday."

  "Oh, my good child, I thought not to have seen thee in these thygrown-up years. Master Rugeley," he added, turning to his host, "thisis the little girl I forsook four years ago, for to obtain thehundredfold our Lord doth promise."

  "My very dear father," I said, "joy is swallowed up in fear. God helpme, I came to warn a stranger (if so be any priest in these timesshould be a stranger to a Catholic), and I find you."

  "Oh, but I am mightfully pleased," quoth he, "to see thee, my child,even in this wise, and to hear thee speak like a true daughter of HolyChurch. And Lady l'Estrange is then thy friend?"

  "Yea, my dear father; but for God and our lady's sake hide yourself. Iwarrant yon the constables may soon be here. Master Rugeley, where canhe be concealed, or whither fly, and I with him?"

  "Nay, prithee not so fast," quoth he. "Flight would be useless; and inthe matter of hiding, one should be more easily concealed than two;beside that, the hollow of a tree, which Master Rugeley will, I ween,appoint me for a bed-chamber to-night, should hardly lodge us bothwith comfort."

  "Oh, sir," said Rugeley, "do not tarry."

  "For thy sake, no; not for more than one minute, Thomas; but ere Ipart from this wench, two questions I must needs ask her."

  Then he drew me aside and inquired what facilities I continued to havein London for the exercise of Catholic religion, and if I was punctualin the discharge of my spiritual duties. When I had satisfied himthereon, he asked if the report was true which he heard from aprisoner for recusancy in Wisbeach Castle, concerning my troth-plightwith Mr. Rookwood.

  "Yea," I said, "it is true, if so be you now do add your consent toit."

  He answered he should do so with all his heart, for he knew him to bea good Catholic and a virtuous gentleman; and as we might lack theopportunity to receive his blessing later, he should now give it untome for both his most dear children. Which he did, laying his hand onmy head with many fervent benisons, couched in such words as these,that he prayed for us to be stayed up with the shore of God's grace inthis world; and after this transitory life should end, to ascend tohim, and appear pure and unspotted before his glorious seat. Then heasked me if it was Lady l'Estrange who had detected him; whereupon Ibriefly related to him what had occurred, and how sore her grief wastherein.

  "God bless her," he answered; "and tell her I do thank her and prayfor her with all mime heart."

  And more he would have added, but Master Rugeley opened the doorimpatiently. So, after kissing once more my father's hand, I wentaway, compelled thereunto by fears for his safety, if he should not atonce conceal himself.

  Looking back, I saw him and his guide disappear in the thicket, andthen, as I walked on toward Lynn Court, it did almost seem to me as ifthe whole of that brief but pregnant interview should have been adream; nor could I verily persuade myself that it was not a halfhabitant of another world I had seen and spoken with rather than mineown father; and in first thinking on it I scarcely did fully apprehendthe danger he was in, so as to feel as much pain as I did later, whenthe joy and astonishment of that unexpected meeting had given way toterrifying thoughts. Ever and anon I turned round to gaze on the darkwood wherein his hopes of safety did lie, and once I knelt down on theroadside to pray that the night should be also dark and shield hisescape. But still the sense of fear was dulled, and woke not until thesound of horses' feet on the road struck on my ear, and I saw a partyof men riding across the common. The light in the cottage wasextinguished, but the cruel moon shone out then more brightly thanheretofore. Now I felt so sick and faint that I feared to sink down onthe path, and hurried through the orchard-door and the garden to thehouse. When I had unlocked the back door and stood in the hall where alately kindled fire made a ruddy light to glow, I tried again to thinkI had been dreaming, like one in a nightmare strives to shake off anoppressive fancy. I could not remain alone, and composed mycountenance for to enter the parlor, when the door thereof opened andMrs. l'Estrange came out, who, when she perceived me standing beforeher, gave a start, but recovering herself, said, good-naturedly:

  "Marry, if this be not the ghost we have been looking for; nowashamed, I ween, to show itself. I hope, Mistress Sherwood, you do nothaunt quiet folks in their beds at night; for I do, I warn you,mislike living ghosts, and should be disposed to throw a jug of waterat the head of such a one." And laughing, she took my hand in a kindmanner, which when she did, almost a cry broke from her: "How now,Milicent! she is as cold as a stone figure. Where has she beenchilling herself?"

  Milicent pressed forward and led me to my chamber, wherein a fire hadbeen lighted, and would make me drink a hot posset. But when I thoughtof the cold hollow of a tree wherein my father was enclosed, if itpleased God no worse mishap had befallen him, little of it could Iforce myself to swallow, for now tears had come to my relief, andconcealing my face in the pillow of the bed whereon for weariness Ihad stretched myself, I wept very bitterly.

  "Is that poor man gone from Rugeley's house?" Milicent whispered.

  Alas! she knew not who that poor man was to me, nor with what anguishI answered: "He is not in the cottage, I hope; but God onlyknoweth if his pursuers shall not discover him." The thought of whatwould then follow overcame me, and I hid my face with mine hands.

  "Oh, Constance," she exclaimed, "was this poor man known to thee, thatthy grief is so great, whose conscience doth not reproach thee as minedoeth?"

  I held out my hand to her without unshading my face with the other,and said: "Dear Milicent! thou shouldst not sorrow so mach for thineown part in this sore trial. It was not thy fault. He said so. Heblest thee, and prays for thee."

  Uncomforted by my words, she cried again, what she had so oftenexclaimed that night, "If this man should die, my happiness is over."

  Then once more she asked me if I know this priest, and I was frowardwith her (God forgive me, for the suspense and fear overthrew betterfeelings for a moment), and I cried, angrily, "Who saith he is apriest? Who can prove it?"

  "Think you so?" she said joyfully; "then all should be right."

  And once more, with some misdoubting, I ween, that I concealedsomewhat from her, she inquired touchin
g my knowledge of thisstranger. Then I spoke harshly, and bade her leave me, for I hadsorrow enough without her intermeddling with it; but then grieving forher, and also afraid to be left alone, I denied my words, and prayedher to stay, which she did, but did not speak much again. The silenceof the night seemed so deep as if the rustling of a leaf could benoticed; only now and then the voices of the gentlemen below, and someloud talking and laughter from some of them was discernible throughthe closed doors. Once Lady l'Estrange said: "They be sitting up verylate; I suppose till the constables return. Oh, when will that be?"

  The great clock in the hall then struck twelve; and soon

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