Hayslope Grange Part 12

So to prevent this she threw a cloak over her head, and followed the maid, without speaking, to where a m.u.f.fled figure stood outside the door. She had only stepped off the threshold, when a gust of wind blew the door close, and at the same moment her wrist was seized, and she was dragged away from the house; and before she could even scream, or give any alarm, she was lifted on to a horse, and the man sprang up before her, and galloped away into the village.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ABDUCTION OF MAUD.]

All the horrible tales Maud had ever heard of people being carried off by witches rushed to her mind when she saw that they were turning round by the blacksmith's shed. All was dark and still, but she tried to scream, in hopes of raising some alarm; but fear had paralyzed her tongue, and she could not utter a sound. She was like one in all the horrors of a nightmare, and believed she was on a phantom horse, although she could hear it splashing though the wet mud, precisely as Cavalier did the day before, when she was out riding with Mistress Stanhope.

At length they stopped just opposite the widow's cottage, as Maud expected, for she had no doubt that this ride was of the witch's planning; and feeling powerless to resist, she suffered herself to be lifted down, and expected to be carried into the house. But instead of this, a familiar, though scarcely remembered, but very human voice, said, "Go in, Mistress Maud, I will look after Cavalier." But Maud did not move, although the man stepped to the horse's head. Before she could make up her mind, however, to run away, the cottage door opened, and a weak, quivering voice, said, "Roger, Roger, is that you?"

Without answering, the man left the horse and came to Maud. "Prithee, be not so sorrowful," he said; "there's hope for him yet, if we can only get a physician to him soon, and Dame Coppins says----"

But Maud staggered back as he would have led her into the house. "Tell me what it is, and who you are," she gasped.

The man was perplexed. "Marry, but you know me, Mistress Maud. I'm Roger, Master Drury's servant, and the letter told all about the rest, I trow."

What the "rest" was Maud had not time to ask, for at that moment the cottage door opened again, and Dame Coppins drew her inside.

CHAPTER XII.

HARRY'S RETURN.

Suddenly stepping out of the darkness into the lighted room, Maud could not distinguish any object at first, and only heard as in a dream Dame Coppins's words, "Be calm, Mistress Maud, for he is very weak, I trow."

Then, looking across the room, she saw some one lying on a bed with hands eagerly outstretched towards her, and a faint voice uttered, "Maud, Maud, come to me; let me hold your hand once more." The sound of that feeble pleading voice brought back Maud's bewildered senses.

"Harry," she gasped, "Oh, my Harry!" and she was kneeling by the low bed, kissing the thin white hands.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MEETING OF MAUD AND HARRY.]

For a few minutes no one came near them, and Maud knelt there sobbing, for her overstrained feelings would have vent, in spite of her effort to control them.

Harry was the first to regain composure, and smoothing the soft braids of her hair, he said, "I began to fear you would never forgive me, Maud; and I could not die without your forgiveness."

"Forgive you!" repeated Maud. "I have wanted to ask you to forgive me for speaking as I did the morning you went away."

"I have nothing to forgive," said Harry. "You could not but believe I was a traitor, as you said, in refusing to serve the King."

"Nay, nay, but I ought to have believed you were acting conscientiously, although I could not see things as you saw them. I was hard, uncharitable, cruel, Harry."

"Nay, nay, Maud; cruel, when at Oxford you saved my life?"

"I did not know it was to save you," murmured Maud.

Harry looked disappointed, and dropped the hand he was holding. "Maud, when I saw you there, riding through the soldiers, I thought it was for me you came, although you had given your heart and hand to another."

Maud stared. "Given heart and hand to another!" she repeated.

"Hush! hush!" said Harry, "my secret shall die with me. I would not even ask about you when I came here, but suffer me to call you Maud the little while I stay."

"What other name should I be called?" asked Maud, in surprise.

"Nay, nay, I cannot play now, Maud," said Harry, "I would not even suffer a word to be spoken about you until I heard Captain Stanhope and his wife were coming from Oxford, and then I roused myself to write that letter, for I longed to see you once again, as the companion of my childhood and the friend----"

"Prithee, I have received no letter," said Maud.

"Marry, but I sent one, and the messenger said he had delivered it into the hand of Mistress Stanhope herself," said Harry.

"But I am not Mistress Stanhope," said Maud, smiling.

Harry raised himself in bed, and looked earnestly into her face. "You are not the wife of Captain Stanhope?" he repeated.

"No, it is Mary who is married," said Maud.

Harry fell back on his pillow, and Roger and Dame Coppins were obliged to administer some restoratives; but the moment he had revived he looked round for Maud, and feebly murmured her name.

"I am with you, Harry dear," she whispered, and took his hand, while Dame Coppins told the story of how he had been brought there in a litter some weeks before by Roger and the messenger, who had fled to her cottage from the violence of the villagers. The man had remained with her until he recovered from his wound, and had told her who were the prisoners at Oxford, and the certainty of their release if the letters were only delivered in time; and the old woman's joy on hearing from Bertram that Maud had reached Oxford as she did, unloosed her tongue and thus brought upon herself the charge of witchcraft. Maud felt heartily ashamed of her hasty judgment now, and when she heard how greatly Harry had longed to see her, she felt more grieved than ever that she had stayed away from the cottage. Dame Coppins had felt anxious, when day after day pa.s.sed and no one came from the Grange, for she began to fear some of them had heard she had strange visitors, for it was the messenger who had been with her that informed Harry it was dangerous for him to go to the village even to see his father, and persuaded him to come to Dame Coppins's cottage, and wait for some chance to send to his father secretly. Roger came with him, for Harry was too ill when he left London to travel alone, and all Dame Coppins's herb tea had failed to do him any good; and so at last, feeling sure he had not long to live, he wrote a letter to Maud, enclosing one to be given to his father, asking his forgiveness, and begging he would come and see him. This was addressed to Mistress Stanhope, and delivered to her, but which she took care no one else should hear of, destroying her father's letter as well as her own.

Maud did not hear this all at once. Harry could say but little more that night beyond how he had longed for her after the letter was sent, and how disappointed he was that she did not come.

"But what made you think I was Mistress Stanhope?" asked Maud.

"Roger told me you were about to be married when he left the village last summer. We met in a slight skirmish soon after I recovered from my wounds, and enemies though we ought to have been, we could not help exchanging a few friendly words; and it was because I knew he loved me truly, despite of the King's quarrel, that I asked his release, to attend me when I came home."

"Yes, Harry, you must come home," said Maud, in a determined tone.

"Yes, I am almost there," murmured Harry; "but it is harder to leave now, Maud, than before I saw you, and heard about this mistake."

"Nay, nay, but it is to the Grange you must come, Harry," said Maud, with a faint blush. "Your father is ill, but the sight of you will do him more good than all the physician can do; and if you are there the doctor can attend to your wants as well."

But Harry shook his head. "I have longed to see my father and the old Grange, Maud; but you must ask his forgiveness and blessing now. I cannot move from here."

"Nay, nay, but you must try, Harry," said Maud, almost wildly; "for my sake," she added, in a whisper.

Harry looked at the pleading face. "You forget," he said, "I have vowed never to set foot inside the Grange again. I came to Hayslope to ask my father's forgiveness, but not to go to the Grange."

"It was a proud, rash vow," said Maud. "Your father has much to give up in receiving you, and it is but right you should first seek him."

Harry did not know how much he had indulged this proud, bitter spirit, until now, and it was only after much pleading from Maud that he consented to give it up. She obtained a promise from him, however, that he would come to the Grange before she left, and then she went home again, under Roger's guidance, to perform the more difficult task of winning a welcome for him there. As Cavalier trotted along her brain was busy upon the question how she should do this, and at length she resolved to mention what had happened to no one but Master Drury. To Mistress Mabel's questioning she would answer she had been to see some one who was ill in the village, for if she and Mary heard Harry was likely to return to his home, they would oppose it, she knew. The household had become somewhat accustomed to Maud's erratic doings by this time, and so little wonder was expressed that she did not come into the keeping-room to supper. Every one supposed she was in her own room, and so at the usual hour the watch dogs were set upon their guard and the house locked up, and by the time Maud got there every light was extinguished but the little lamp burning in Master Drury's room. The approach of Cavalier, therefore, at that unseasonable hour, was the signal for all the dogs to set up a furious barking, and all the household was aroused. Captain Stanhope was the first to make his appearance at an open window, and demand the reason of the disturbance, warning the intruders that if they came a step nearer the house he would discharge his musket at them.

Maud hardly knew what to do, but begged Roger to let her reply, hoping the gentleman would recognise her voice; but he failed to do this for some time, until, a.s.sured it was a woman who was speaking, he consented to come down and open the door, as soon as all the servants were armed to resist any attack that might be made.

Maud could not help laughing, and yet the dilemma was a serious one just now, as she knew she should have to give an account of herself to everybody. At length the door was opened, and Maud walked in past the row of servants, and upstairs to where Mistress Mabel, with Bertram and Bessie, were shivering in the gallery with fright and cold.

Mistress Mabel was speechless with anger, and seizing Maud's wrist, marched her into Master Drury's room at once. "Now, Master Drury, you will nathless make this wilful girl give an account of herself," said the lady, and she sat down; while Captain Stanhope and the rest came into the room, and the servants crowded round the door to hear what had happened.

"Marry, I would speak to Master Drury alone," said Maud.

"Nay, nay, you must speak out before us all, unless it is some shameful deed you would tell of," said Mistress Mabel and Mary both in a breath.