Hayslope Grange Part 3

replied Gilbert, "and then to-morrow you had better see your father again."

But Harry shook his head sadly.

"Marry, it will be of no use," he said.

"By my troth, I would try, though you cannot marvel that he is angry, speaking as you did," said Gilbert, warmly.

"Yes, I know I was wrong; but you do not know my father, Gilbert, or you would not advise me to thrust myself into his presence again for a while. No, no; I must go to London now, and seek my fortune there."

"But you will stay here to-night?" said his friend.

"Yes, to-night," sighed Harry; "for I must see Maud to-morrow."

Clayton hoped that Master Drury's anger might be somewhat appeased by the next day, and he resolved to see him, if possible, when he went to the house for his things, which in the hurry and confusion had been left behind.

Anxiety kept Harry awake as much as his strange quarters that night; but Clayton, who had many times slept out in the open field when upon the march, did not feel much inconvenience from sleeping on the barn floor.

He awoke about the usual time, but would not stir, for fear of disturbing Harry. At length, however, one of the men pushed open the door, and not recognising the intruders, at once ordered them off in a loud, rough voice.

Harry started to his feet, crying, "Maud, Maud, I will save you!" and then rubbed his eyes to see if it was true that the man was staring and Gilbert laughing at him.

"Marry, but you have been dreaming," said Clayton, rising and stretching himself.

"Is it my young master?" uttered the man, slowly, as if scarcely able to believe the evidence of his eyes.

"Yes, it is me; Harry Drury," said Harry. "Have you heard how Mistress Maud is this morning?" he asked, anxiously.

"But sadly, I hear," said the man, shaking his head. "Marry, but 'tis a bad business, this, Master Harry," he added.

"Will you go and tell one of the maids to ask Mistress Maud to come to me?" said Harry, in a tone of impatience.

"Mistress Maud has not yet left her room," said the man. "I heard----"

"Then go and ask if I can see her in the painted gallery," interrupted Harry. "Stop!" he cried, as the man was moving off; "you are not to go to Mistress Mabel, but ask Jane, or one of the other maids."

The man gave a knowing nod, and departed on his errand, determined to accomplish it too, for he had no doubt but that the visit to Maud was to ask her to intercede with Master Drury; and Harry being a general favourite with the servants, they had all felt sorry for his dilemma, although they did not understand it.

He slowly followed the man round to a small entrance at the side of the house, and presently the door opened and Jane beckoned him to enter. A staircase close to the door led direct to one end of the painted gallery, which was close to Maud's room, and here Harry sat down in the broad window-seat to wait her coming. He did not have to wait long. In a minute or two her chamber-door opened, and the young lady stepped into the gallery, looking very pale and sad, but almost as stern as Master Drury himself.

"Oh, Maud, forgive me!" burst forth Harry, starting forward when he saw her.

But she coldly waved him off.

"I have nothing to forgive," she said.

Harry paused in amazement.

"Prithee, tell me what is the matter," he said; "are you ill, Maud?"

"Prithee, no," said Maud, lightly (which was not quite the truth).

Harry advanced a step nearer, and Maud drew further back.

"Do not seek to touch me," she said, proudly. "I give not my hand to traitors."

"But I am not a traitor," said Harry. "I have followed your advice, and told my father I must go on in----"

"Followed my advice!" repeated Maud. "By my faith, I never advised you!"

"Nay, nay, did you not understand me when I conversed with you?"

"I understand you now, Master Drury," interrupted Maud, "but I choose not to hold converse with a traitor;" and with a haughty gesture she turned and went into her own room, leaving Harry overwhelmed with surprise and distress.

He went down-stairs, and out of the little unused door into the sunny fields, without knowing where he was, and he wandered up and down, trying to collect his bewildered thoughts, and think over what had happened, until Gilbert Clayton overtook him.

He had collected the few belongings he brought with him to Hayslope Grange, and now carried them in his hand, but he had utterly failed in his mission to Master Drury. The old man was more bitter this morning than he had been the previous evening, and vowed he would never own his son again, unless he took service under King Charles.

"Let us get away from here as fast as we can," said Harry, as his friend joined him.

"Have you seen Mistress Maud?" asked Gilbert, hoping that she at least had spoken a word of comfort to him.

"Prithee, do not ask me," said Harry, in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "I am an outcast from my father's house; every one spurns me."

"Say not so, Harry," said Gilbert, in a gentle tone. "Remember the word of the Lord, 'When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.'"

"But I know not that I have the right to that promise," said Harry, moodily.

"But you confess that you need it," said Gilbert.

"Yes, I need it," said Harry.

"Then Christ came to satisfy the needy, whatever their wants might be.

He came to show us the love of the Father that it was inexhaustible, not like the love of earthly friends, which is often cold and changeful, but ever full, free, and unchangeable."

Harry sighed.

"I feel utterly desolate and deserted," he said.

"Then will you not go to Him who is waiting to take you up and adopt you into His family, and make you His son in Christ Jesus? He wishes to do so. He is waiting to be gracious."

"Go on," said Harry, when Gilbert paused. "I am listening; your words are like water to a thirsty soul;" and Gilbert went on until they reached the village, where Gilbert bought a loaf of rye bread, and after eating this, and drinking some water from the spring, they started on their journey to London; for although Gilbert was not a poor man, they had not much money with them, not enough to buy a horse, and stage-coaches were unheard of in those days.

CHAPTER IV.

CROMWELL'S IRONSIDES.