CHAPTER XIII
THE MESSENGER
"Who makes all this tumult?" shouted the Commissioner. "Why do I seeblood and wounds and dead men? And how were you about to handle thesewomen, one of whom by her mien is of no low degree?" and he stared atCicely.
"The tumult," answered the Abbot, "was caused by yonder fool, ThomasBolle, a lay-brother of my monastery, who rushed among us armed andshouting 'In the King's name, stay.'"
"Then why did you not stay, Sir Abbot? Is the King's name one to bemocked at? Know that I sent on the man."
"He had no warrant, Sir Commissioner, unless his bull's voice and greataxe are a warrant, and I did not stay because we were doing justice uponthe three foulest witches in the realm."
"Doing justice? Whose justice and what justice? Say, had you a warrantfor your justice? If so, show it me."
"These witches have been condemned by a Court Ecclesiastic, the judgesbeing a bishop, a prior and myself, and in pursuance of that judgmentwere about to suffer for their sins by fire," replied Maldon.
"A Court Ecclesiastic!" roared Dr. Legh. "Can Courts Ecclesiastic, then,toast free English folk to death? If you would not stand your trial forattempted murder, show me your warrant signed by his Grace the King,or by his Justices of Assize. What! You do not answer. Have you none? Ithought as much. Oho, Clement Maldon, you hang-faced Spanish dog, learnthat eyes have been on you for long, and now it seems that you wouldusurp the King's prerogative besides----" and he checked himself, thenwent on, "Seize that priest, and keep him fast while I make inquiry ofthis business."
Now some of the Commissioner's guard surrounded Maldon, nor did his ownmen venture to interfere with them, for they had enough of fighting andwere frightened by this talk about the King's warrant.
Then the Commissioner turned to Cicely, and said--
"You are Sir John Foterell's only child, are you not, who allegeyourself to be wife to Sir Christopher Harflete, or so says yonderPrioress? Now, what was about to happen to you, and why?"
"Sir," answered Cicely, "I and my waiting-woman and the old sister,Bridget, were condemned to die by fire at those stakes upon a chargeof sorcery. Although it is true," she added, "that I knew we should notperish thus."
"How did you know that, Lady? By all tokens your bodies and hot flamewere near enough together," and he glanced towards the stakes and thescattered faggots.
"Sir, I knew it because of a vision that God sent to me in my sleep lastnight."
"Aye, she swore that at the stake," exclaimed a voice, "and we thoughther mad."
"Now can you deny that she is a witch?" broke in Maldon. "If she werenot one of Satan's own, how could she see visions and prophecy her owndeliverance?"
"If visions and prophecies are proof of witchcraft, then, Priest, allHoly Writ is but a seething pot of sorcery," answered Legh. "Then theBlessed Virgin and St. Elizabeth were witches, and Paul and John shouldhave been burnt as wizards. Continue, Lady, leaving out your dreamsuntil a more convenient time."
"Sir," went on Cicely, "we have worked no sorcery, and my crime is thatI will not name my child a bastard and sign away my lands and goods toyonder Abbot, the murderer of my father and perhaps of my husband. Oh!listen, listen, you and all folk here, and briefly as I may I will tellmy tale. Have I your leave to speak?"
The Commissioner nodded, and she set out her story from the beginning,so sweetly, so simply and with such truth and earnestness, that theconcourse of people packed close about her, hung upon her every word,and even Dr. Legh's coarse face softened as he heard. For the half of anhour or more she spoke, telling of her father's death, of her flight andmarriage, of the burning of Cranwell Towers, and her widowing, if suchit were; of her imprisonment in the Priory and the Abbot's dealings withher and Emlyn; of the birth of her child and its attempted murder bythe midwife, his creature; of their trial and condemnation, they beinginnocent, and of all they had endured that day.
"If you are innocent," shouted a priest as she paused for breath, "whatwas that Thing dressed in the livery of Satan which worked evil atBlossholme? Did we not see it with our eyes?"
Just then some one uttered an exclamation and pointed to the shadow ofthe trees where a strange form was moving. Another moment and it cameout into the light. One more and all that multitude scattered likefrightened sheep, rushing this way and that; yes, even the horses tookthe bits between their teeth and bolted. For there, visible to all,Satan himself strolled towards them. On his head were horns, behind hisback hung down a tail, his body was shaggy like a beast's, and his facehideous and of many colours, while in his hand he held a pronged forkwith a long handle. This way and that rushed the throng, only theCommissioner, who had dismounted, stood still, perhaps because hewas too afraid to stir, and with him the women and some of the nuns,including the Prioress, who fell upon their knees and began to utterprayers.
On came the dreadful thing till it reached the King's Visitor, bowingto him and bellowing like a bull, then very deliberately untied somestrings and let its horrid garb fall off, revealing the person of ThomasBolle!
"What means this mummery, knave?" gasped Dr. Legh.
"Mummery do you call it, sir?" answered Thomas with a grin. "Well, ifso, 'tis on the faith of such mummery that priests burn women in merryEngland. Come, good people, come," he roared in his great voice, "come,see Satan in the flesh. Here are his horns," and he held them up, "oncethey grew upon the head of Widow Johnson's billy-goat. Here's his tail,many a fly has it flicked off the belly of an Abbey cow. Here's his uglymug, begotten of parchment and the paint-box. Here's his dreadful forkthat drives the damned to some hotter corner; it has been death to wholestones of eels down in the marsh-fleet yonder. I have some hell-fire tooamong the bag of tricks; you'll make the best of brimstone and a littleoil dried out upon the hearth. Come, see the devil all complete andnaught to pay."
Back trooped the crowd a little fearfully, taking the properties whichhe held, and handling them, till first one and then all of them began tolaugh.
"Laugh not," shouted Bolle. "Is it a matter of laughter that nobleladies and others whose lives are as dear to some," and he glanced atEmlyn, "should grill like herrings because a poor fool walks about cladin skins to keep out the cold and frighten villains? Hark you, I playedthis trick. I am Beelzebub, also the ghost of Sir John Foterell. Ientered the Priory chapel by a passage that I know, and saved yonderbabe from murder and scared the murderess down to hell; yes, from thesham devil to the true. Why did I do it? Well, to protect the innocentand scourge the wicked in his pride. But the wicked seized the innocentand the innocent said nothing, fearing lest I should suffer with them,and----O God, you know the rest!
"It was a near thing, a very near thing, but I'm not the half-wit I'vefeigned to be for years. Moreover, I had a good horse and a heavy axe,and there are still true hearts round Blossholme; the dead men that lieyonder show it. Heaven has still its angels on the earth, though theywear strange shapes. There stands one of them, and there another,"and he pointed first to the fat and pompous Visitor, and next to thedishevelled Prioress, adding: "And now, Sir Commissioner, for all thatI have done in the cause of justice I ask pardon of you who wear theKing's grace and majesty as I wore old Nick's horns and hoofs, sinceotherwise the Abbot and his hired butchers, who hold themselves mastersof King and people, will murder me for this as they have done by bettermen. Therefore pardon, your Mightiness, pardon," and he kneeled downbefore him.
"You have it, Bolle; in the King's name you have it," replied Legh, whowas more flattered by the titles and attributes poured upon him by thecunning Thomas than a closer consideration might have warranted. "Forall that you have done, or left undone, I, the Commissioner of hisGrace, declare that you shall go scot free and that no action criminalor civil shall lie against you, and this my secretary shall give to youin writing. Now, good fellow, rise, but steal Satan's plumes no morelest you should feel his claws and beak, for he is an ill fowl to mock.Bring hither that Spaniard Maldon. I have somewhat to say to him."
; Now they looked this way and that, but no Abbot could they see. Theguards swore that they had never taken eye off him, even when they allran before the devil, yet certainly he was gone.
"The knave has given us the slip," bellowed the Commissioner, who waspurple with rage. "Search for him! Seize him, for which my command shallbe your warrant. Draw the wood. I'll to the Abbey, where perchance thefox has gone to earth. Five golden crowns to the man who nets the slimytraitor."
Now every one, burning with zeal to show their loyalty and to win thecrowns, scattered on the search, so that presently the three "witches,"Thomas Bolle, Mother Matilda, and the nuns, were left standing almostalone and staring at each other and the dead and wounded men who layabout.
"Let us to the Priory," said Mother Matilda, "for by the sun I judgethat it is time for evening prayer, and there seem to be none to hinderus."
Thomas went to her horse, which grazed close at hand, and led it up.
"Nay, good friend," she exclaimed, with energy, "while I live no more ofthat evil beast for me. Henceforth I'll walk till I am carried. Keep it,Thomas, as a gift; it is bought and paid for. Sister, your arm."
"Have I done well, Emlyn?" Bolle asked, as he tightened the girths.
"I don't know," she answered, looking at him sideways. "You played thecur at first, leaving us to burn for your sins, but afterwards, well,you found the wits you say you never lost. Also your manners mended, andyonder captain knave learned that you can handle an axe, so we'll sayno more about it, lad, for doubtless that Abbot and his spies were soretask-masters and broke your spirit with their penances and talk of hellto come. Here, lift my lady on to this horse, for she is spent, andlet me lean upon your shoulder, Thomas. It's weary work standing at astake."
The Lady of Blossholme Page 28