Grisly Grisell

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

Grisell was indeed young herself and inexperienced, and knew not that her wrath with the girl might be perilous to herself, while sympathy might have evoked wholesome confidence.

  For the maiden, just developing into northern comeliness, was attractive enough to win the admiration of soldiers in garrison with nothing to do, and on her side their notice, their rough compliments, and even their jests, were delightful compared with the dulness of her mistress's mourning chamber, and court enough was paid to her completely to turn her head. If there were love and gratitude lurking in the bottom of her heart towards the lady who had made a fair and skilful maiden out of the wild fisher girl, all was smothered in the first strong impulse of love for this young Ralph Hart, the first to awaken the woman out of the child.

  The obstacles which Grisell, like other prudent mistresses in all times, placed in the course of this true love, did but serve to alienate the girl and place her in opposition. The creature had grown up as wild and untamed as one of the seals on the shore, and though she had had a little training and teaching of late years, it was entirely powerless when once the passion was evoked in her by the new intercourse and rough compliments of the young archer, and she was for the time at his beck and call, regarding her lady as her tyrant and enemy. It was the old story of many a household.

  CHAPTER XVIII-WITCHERY

  The lady has gone to her secret bower,

  The bower that was guarded by word and by spell.

  SCOTT, The Lay of the Last Minstrel.

  "Master Squire," said the principal man-at-arms of the garrison to Pierce Hardcastle, "is it known to you what this laidly dame's practices be?"

  "I know her for a dame worthy of all honour and esteem," returned the esquire, turning hastily round in wrath. He much disliked this man, a regular mercenary of the free lance description, a fellow of French or Alsatian birth, of middle age, much strength, and on account of a great gash and sideways twist of his snub nose always known as Tordu, and strongly suspected that he had been sent as a sort of spy or check on Sir Leonard Copeland and on himself. The man replied with a growl:

  "Ah ha! Sans doubt she makes her niggard fare seem dainty cakes to those under her art."

  In fact the evident pleasure young Hardcastle took in the Lady Castellane's society, the great improvement in his wound under her treatment, and the manner in which the serfs around came to ask her aid in their maladies, had excited the suspicion of the men-at-arms. They were older men, hardened and roughened, inclined to despise his youth, and to resent the orderly discipline of the household, which under Ridley went on as before, and the murmurs of Thora led to inquiries, answered after the exaggerated fashion of gossip.

  There were outcries about provisions and wine or ale, and shouts demanding more, and when Pierce declared that he would not have the lady insulted, there was a hoarse loud laugh. He was about to order Tordu as ringleader into custody, but Ridley said to him aside, "Best not, sir; his fellows will not lay a finger on him, and if we did so, there would be a brawl, and we might come by the worst."

  So Pierce could only say, with all the force he could, "Bear in mind that Sir Leonard Copeland is lord here, and all miscourtesy to his lady is an offence to himself, which will be visited with his wrath."

  The sneering laugh came again, and Tordu made answer, "Ay, ay, sir; she has bewitched you, and we'll soon have him and you free."

  Pierce was angered into flying at the man with his sword, but the other men came between, and Ridley held him back.

  "You are still a maimed man, sir. To be foiled would be worse than to let it pass."

  "There, fellow, I'll spare you, so you ask pardon of me and the lady."

  Perhaps they thought they had gone too far, for there was a sulky growl that might pass for an apology, and Ridley's counsel was decided that Pierce had better not pursue the matter.

  What had been said, however, alarmed him, and set him on the watch, and the next evening, when Hardcastle was walking along the cliffs beyond the castle, the lad who acted as his page came to him, with round, wondering eyes, "Sir," said he, after a little hesitation, "is it sooth that the lady spake a spell over your arm?"

  "Not to my knowledge," said Pierce smiling.

  "It might be without your knowledge," said the boy. "They say it healed as no chirurgeon could have healed it, and by magic arts."

  "Ha! the lubbard oafs. You know better than to believe them, Dick."

  "Nay, sir, but 'tis her bower-woman and Madge, the cook's wife. Both aver that the lady hath bewitched whoever comes in her way ever since she crossed the door. She hath wrought strange things with her father, mother, and brothers. They say she bound them to her; that the little one could not brook to have her out of sight; yet she worked on him so that he was crooked and shrivelled. Yet he wept and cried to have her ever with him, while he peaked and pined and dwindled away. And her mother, who was once a fine, stately, masterful dame, pined to mere skin and bone, and lay in lethargy; and now she is winding her charms on you, sir!"

  Pierce made an exclamation of loathing and contempt. Dick lowered his voice to a whisper of awe.

  "Nay, sir, but Le Tordu and Ned of the Bludgeon purpose to ride over to Shields to the wise, and they will deal with her when he has found the witch's mark."

  "The lady!" cried Hardcastle in horror. "You see her what she is! A holy woman if ever there was one! At mass each morning."

  "Ay, but the wench Thora told Ralph that 'tis prayers backward she says there. Thora has oft heard her at night, and 'twas no Ave nor Credo as they say them here."

  Pierce burst out laughing. "I should think not. They speak gibberish, and she, for I have heard her in Church, speaks words with a meaning, as her priest and nuns taught her."

  "But her face, sir. There's the Evil One's mark. One side says nay to the other."

  "The Evil One! Nay, Dick, he is none other than Sir Leonard himself. 'Twas he that all unwittingly, when a boy, fired a barrel of powder close to her and marred her countenance. You are not fool and ass enough to give credence to these tales."

  "I said not that I did, sir," replied the page; "but it is what the men-at-arms swear to, having drawn it from the serving-maid."

  "The adder," muttered Pierce.

  "Moreover," continued the boy, "they have found out that there is a wise man witch-finder at Shields. They mean to be revenged for the scanty fare and mean providings; and they deem it will be a merry jest in this weary hold, and that Sir Leonard will be too glad to be quit of his gruesome dame to call them to account."

  It was fearful news, for Pierce well knew his own incompetence to restrain these strong and violent men. He did not know where his knight was to be found, and, if he had known, it was only too likely that these terrible intentions might be carried out before any messenger could reach him. Indeed, the belief in sorcery was universal, and no rank was exempt from the danger of the accusation. Thora's treachery was specially perilous. All that the young man could do was to seek counsel with Cuthbert Ridley, and even this he was obliged to do in the stable, bidding Dick keep watch outside. Ridley too had heard a spiteful whisper or two, but it had seemed too preposterous for him to attend to it. "You are young, Hardcastle," he said, with a smile, "or you would know that there is nothing a grumbler will not say, nor how far men's tongues lie from their hands."

  "Nay, but if their hands did begin to act, how should we save the lady? There's nothing Tordu would not do. Could we get her away to some nunnery?"

  "There is no nunnery nearer at hand than Gateshead, and there the Prioress is a Musgrove, no friend to my lord. She might give her up, on such a charge, for holy Church is no guardian in them. My poor bairn! That ingrate Thora too! I would fain wring her neck! Yet here are our fisher folk, who love her for her bounty."

  "Would they hide her?" asked Pierce.

  "That serving-wench-would I had drowned her ere bringing her here- might turn them, and, were she tracked, I ken not who might not be scared or tortured into giving her up!"


  Here Dick looked in. "Tordu is crossing the yard," he said.

  They both became immediately absorbed in studying the condition of Featherstone's horse, which had never wholly recovered the flight from Wakefield.

  After a time Ridley was able to steal away, and visit Grisell in her apartment. She came to meet him, and he read alarm, incredulous alarm, in her face. She put her hands in his. "Is it sooth?" she said, in a strange, awe-stricken voice.

  "You have heard, then, my wench?"

  "Thora speaks in a strange tone, as though evil were brewing against me. But you, and Master Hardcastle, and Sir Lucas, and the rest would never let them touch me?"

  "They should only do so through my heart's blood, dear child; but mine would be soon shed, and Hardcastle is a weakly lad, whom those fellows believe to be bewitched. We must find some other way!"

  "Sir Leonard would save me if he knew. Alas! the good Earl of Salisbury is dead."

  "'Tis true. If we could hide you till we be rid of these men. But where?" and he made a despairing gesture.

  Grisell stood stunned and dazed as the horrible prospect rose before her of being seized by these lawless men, tortured by the savage hands of the witch-finder, subjected to a cruel death, by fire, or at best by water. She pressed her hands together, feeling utterly desolate, and prayed her prayer to the God of the fatherless to save her or brace her to endure.

  Presently Cuthbert exclaimed, "Would Master Groats, the Poticary, shelter you till this is over-past? His wife is deaf and must perforce keep counsel."

  "He would! I verily believe he would," exclaimed Grisell; "and no suspicion would light on him. How soon can I go to him, and how?"

  "If it may be, this very night," said Ridley. "I missed two of the rogues, and who knows whither they may have gone?"

  "Will there be time?" said the poor girl, looking round in terror.

  "Certes. The nearest witch-finder is at Shields, and they cannot get there and back under two days. Have you jewels, lady? And hark you, trust not to Thora. She is the worst traitor of all. Ask me no more, but be ready to come down when you hear a whistle."

  That Thora could be a traitress and turn against her-the girl whom she had taught, trained, and civilised-was too much to believe. She would almost, in spite of cautions, have asked her if it were possible, and tried to explain the true character of the services that were so cruelly misinterpreted; but as she descended the dark winding stair to supper, she heard the following colloquy:

  "You will not deal hardly with her, good Ralph, dear Ralph?"

  "That thou shalt see, maid! On thy life, not a word to her."

  "Nay, but she is a white witch! she does no evil."

  "What! Going back on what thou saidst of her brother and her mother. Take thou heed, or they will take order with thee."

  "Thou wilt take care of me, good Ralph. Oh! I have done it for thee."

  "Never fear, little one; only shut thy pretty little mouth;" and there was a sound of kissing.

  "What will they do to her?" in a lower voice.

  "Thou wilt see! Sink or swim thou knowst. Ha! ha! She will have enough of the draught that is so free to us."

  Grisell, trembling and horror-stricken, could only lean against the wall hoping that her beating heart did not sound loud enough to betray her, till a call from the hall put an end to the terrible whispers.

  She hurried upwards lest Thora should come up and perceive how near she had been, then descended and took her seat at supper, trying to converse with Pierce as usual, but noting with terror the absence of the two soldiers.

  How her evasion was to be effected she knew not. The castle keys were never delivered to her, but always to Hardcastle, and she saw him take them; but she received from Ridley a look and sign which meant that she was to be ready, and when she left the hall she made up a bundle of needments, and in it her precious books and all the jewels she had inherited. That Thora did not follow her was a boon.

  CHAPTER XIX-A MARCH HARE

  Yonder is a man in sight-

  Yonder is a house-but where?

  No. she must not enter there.

  To the caves, and to the brooks,

  To the clouds of heaven she looks.

  WORDSWORTH, Feast of Brougham Castle.

  Long, long did Grisell kneel in an agony of prayer and terror, as she seemed already to feel savage hands putting her to the ordeal.

  The castle had long been quiet and dark, so far as she knew, when there was a faint sound and a low whistle. She sprang to the door and held Ridley's hand.

  "Now is the time," he said, under his breath; "the squire waits. That treacherous little baggage is safe locked into the cellar, whither I lured her to find some malvoisie for the rascaille crew. Come."

  He was without his boots, and silently led the way along the narrow passage to the postern door, where stood young Hardcastle with the keys. He let them out and crossed the court with them to the little door leading to a steep descent of the cliffs by a narrow path. Not till the sands were reached did any of the three dare to speak, and then Grisell held out her hands in thanks and farewell.

  "May I not guard you on your way, lady?" said Pierce.

  "Best not, sir," returned Ridley; "best not know whither she is gone. I shall be back again before I am missed or your rogues are stirring."

  "When Sir Leonard knows of their devices, lady," said Pierce, "then will Ridley tell him where to find you and bring you back in all honour."

  Grisell could only sigh, and try to speak her thanks to the young man, who kissed her hand, and stood watching her and Ridley as the waning moon lighted them over the glistening sands, till they sought the friendly shadows of the cliffs. And thus Grisell Dacre parted from the home of her fathers.

  "Cuthbert," she said, "should you see Sir Leonard, let him know that if-if he would be free from any bond to me I will aid in breaking it, and ask only dowry enough to obtain entrance to a convent, while he weds the lady he loves."

  Ridley interrupted her with imprecations on the knight, and exhortations to her to hold her own, and not abandon her rights. "If he keep the lands, he should keep the wife," was his cry.

  "His word and heart-" began Grisell.

  "Folly, my wench. No question but she is bestowed on some one else. You do not want to be quit of him and be mewed in a nunnery."

  "I only crave to hide my head and not be the bane of his life."

  "Pshaw! You have seen for yourself. Once get over the first glance and you are worth the fairest dame that ever was jousted for in the lists. Send him at least a message as though it were not your will to cast him off."

  "If you will have it so, then," said Grisell, "tell him that if it be his desire, I will strive to make him a true, loyal, and loving wife."

  The last words came with a sob, and Ridley gave a little inward chuckle, as of one who suspected that the duties of the good and loving wife would not be unwillingly undertaken.

  Castle-bred ladies were not much given to long walks, and though the distance was only two miles, it was a good deal for Grisell, and she plodded on wearily, to the sound of the lap of the sea and the cries of the gulls. The caverns of the rock looked very black and gloomy, and she clung to Ridley, almost expecting something to spring out on her; but all was still, and the pale eastward light began to be seen over the sea before they turned away from it to ascend to the scattered houses of the little rising town.

  The bells of the convent had begun to ring for lauds, but it was only twilight when they reached the wall of Lambert's garden of herbs, where there was a little door that yielded to Ridley's push. The house was still closed, and hoar frost lay on the leaves, but Grisell proposed to hide herself in the little shed which served the purpose of tool-house and summer-house till she could make her entrance. She felt sure of a welcome, and almost constrained Cuthbert to leave her, so as to return to the Tower early enough to avert suspicion-an easier matter as the men-at-arms were given to sleeping as late as they could. He would make a
n errand to the Apothecary's as soon as he could, so as to bring intelligence.

  There sat Grisell, looking out on the brightening sky, while the blackbirds and thrushes were bursting into song, and sweet odours rising from the spring buds of the aromatic plants around, and a morning bell rang from the great monastery church. With that she saw the house door open, and Master Lambert in a fur cap and gown turned up with lambs'-wool come out into the garden, basket in hand, and chirp to the birds to come down and be fed.

  It was pretty to see how the mavis and the merle, the sparrow, chaffinch, robin, and tit fluttered round, and Grisell waited a moment to watch them before she stepped forth and said, "Ah! Master Groot, here is another poor bird to implore your bounty."

  "Lady Grisell," he cried, with a start.

  "Ah! not that name," she said; "not a word. O Master Lambert, I came by night; none have seen me, none but good Cuthbert Ridley ken where I am. There can be no peril to you or yours if you will give shelter for a little while to a poor maid."

  "Dear lady, we will do all we can," returned Lambert. "Fear not. How pale you are. You have walked all night! Come and rest. None will follow. You are sore spent! Clemence shall bring you a warm drink! Condescend, dear lady," and he made her lean on his arm, and brought her into his large living room, and placed her in the comfortable cross-legged chair with straps and cushions as a back, while he went into some back settlement to inform his wife of her visitor; and presently they brought her warm water, with some refreshing perfume, in a brass basin, and he knelt on one knee to hold it to her, while she bathed her face and hands with a sponge-a rare luxury. She started at every sound, but Lambert assured her that she was safe, as no one ever came beyond the booth. His Clemence had no gossips, and the garden could not be overlooked. While some broth was heated for her she began to explain her peril, but he exclaimed, "Methinks I know, lady, if it was thereanent that a great strapping Hollander fellow from your Tower came to ask me for a charm against gramarie, with hints that 'twas in high places. 'Twas enough to make one laugh to see the big lubber try to whisper hints, and shiver and shake, as he showed me a knot in his matted locks and asked if it were not the enemy's tying. I told him 'twas tied by the enemy indeed, the deadly sin of sloth, and that a stout Dutchman ought to be ashamed of himself for carrying such a head within or without. But I scarce bethought me the impudent Schelm could have thought of you, lady."