Robin Tremayne Part 12

"Your eyes be true men, my Lord Grey de Wilton," [Note 2] said Philippa, "and right glad are mine to light on no unfriendlier face. Truly at the first we took you for rebels, and had it not been for your coats and your standard, I had picked you off with my matchlock ere I wist who it were."

Lord Grey laughed merrily.

"Nay," said he, "we are marching against the rebels, by the King's gracious commission. What may I do for you, my mistresses? Whither go you?"

"We be on our way to London," answered Philippa, "if it like the saints to have us there."

"It may like the troops, maybe, the better," said Lord Grey. "Well, I will then send with you certain picked soldiers, good men and true, to see you safe on your way, if G.o.d permit."

"We thank you heartily, and will accept of your goodness with a very good will," she replied. "And what news, now?"

"Very ill news," answered he. "The rebels be up all through Somerset, and Kent, and Ess.e.x, and Lincoln, and Norfolk, and Suffolk."

"Thanks be to our Lady!" cried she; "none of those lie in our way to London."

"Laud be to G.o.d therefor!" answered Lord Grey, gravely; "yet be wary.

How soon may Dorset and Wilts be up likewise? My Lord of Northampton layeth siege to Norwich, and ere this, I trust, is my Lord Russell and his troops around Exeter. But our work is not yet done by many a day's labour."

"I pray you, n.o.ble sir," asked Dr Thorpe, "if I may aventure myself to speak unto your Lordship, what think you of this rebellion? Shall it be a thing easily crushed, or a more graver matter?"

"I know not," said Lord Grey, turning his head to the speaker. "It should seem a very grave matter--another Jack Cade's rebellion. Yet it may be subdued readily. I know not. This only I know--that 'unless the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.'"

Lord Grey, turning, called to him one of his officers, and spoke quietly with him a moment. Then turning again to Philippa, he said, "Look you here, Mrs Ba.s.set, an't like you. I will send with you twelve picked men, that shall be a guard unto you, and shall not leave you until (by G.o.d's allowing), they have you safe in London. And there come," pursued he to the captain of the men, "report yourself unto Sir Francis Jobson, and await his order. Stay--take with you a token."

Lord Grey drew a ring from his finger, and gave it to that officer who seemed to be in authority as captain over the twelve men forming the guard. Then bowing low, he bade G.o.d keep them; and the troops marched forward at his giving the word.

The little group journeyed on towards Dorset, their guard marching before with their halberds in their hands. The captain [a fict.i.tious person] had some talk with Dr Thorpe and Avery; he told them he was a London man, and that his mother--a widow--dwelt in the Minories; and both were Gospellers. So in due time they reached Dorchester; and thence Salisbury, both which they found quiet. And at Windsor they heard a rumour that Norwich had yielded; which on coming to London they found true. They heard further that Exeter was taken by Lord Russell; and that Lord Grey de Wilton had reached Cornwall.

The captain of their guard took them to his mother, Mistress Brent, [fict.i.tious persons] whom they found a pleasant and pious woman. The next day they began looking for a house; and being inclined to settle in the Minories [Note 3], Mrs Brent told them of a comfortable house which was empty next door to her own. John and Isoult went to see it, liked it, and took it. Philippa went to her sister, Lady Elizabeth Jobson, in the Tower; and Dr Thorpe agreed to remain with the Averys until he should make up his mind what to do. Perhaps it was difficult to make up; for without any regular agreement on the subject, yet to everybody's satisfaction, they formed one family thereafter.

Meantime there was sad work at Exeter.

The Lord Privy Seal [John Russell, afterwards first Earl of Bedford], who was sent there with his troops, finding his own forces fewer than the rebels, stayed at Honiton, while the rebels besieged Exeter: and right valiantly the men of Exeter kept their town. [King Edward, from whose Diary these details are taken, spells these names Honington and Outrie.] The rebels burnt the gates, but those within "kept them off by hot fire, till they had made a rampart; and when they were undermined, they drowned the mine and the powder with water." The Lord Privy Seal, hearing of their bravery, endeavoured to go round a bye-way to reinforce them; but the rebels, having spies, discovered his movements, and cut down all the trees between Saint Mary Ottery and Exeter. Lord Russell then burnt the town, intending to return home. But the rebels held a bridge against him, forcing him with his small band to fall upon them; when he gained a great victory, killing some hundreds of them, and retreating homeward without any loss of his own men. Then Lord Grey came to his help, and together they raised the siege of Exeter.

At Bodmin, Sir Anthony Kingston, who was sent there, hanged the Mayor, a fervent Papist: and Father Prideaux would have fared ill at his hands, had not all the Lutherans and Gospellers in the town risen in his favour, and testified that he had not joined with other priests in the rising (for the priests urged and fomented all these risings), but was a good Protestant and faithful subject.

The fugitives were at first too busy to have much time for lamentation.

But when the pressure of constant occupation was relaxed, and the furnishing and arranging of matters ended, they began to feel a little like ship-wrecked men, thrown upon a strange coast. Isoult Avery was astonished to find what a stranger she felt in London, where she had lived some years with Anne Ba.s.set and the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk. One afternoon in September she was peculiarly oppressed by this sense of solitude in a crowd--the most painful solitude of any--but was trying to bear up bravely. She sat at her work, with Kate at her hornbook beside her, when the door was unlatched, and Isoult heard her husband's well-known voice say,--"Come in,--you shall see her now."

Isoult rose to receive her unknown visitor.

He was a man of some fifty years or upwards, neither stout nor spare, but tall, and of an especially stately and majestic carriage. His face was bronzed as if with exposure to a southern sun; his hair and eyes were dark, and he had a long dark beard. Grave and deliberate in all his actions, his smile was exquisitely sweet, and his expression thoughtfully gentle.

"Isoult," said her husband, "this is Mr Rose, an ancient friend of mine, and now parson of West Ham, nigh unto Richmond. He would be acquaint with thee, and so would his wife and daughter."

Isoult rose and louted to the visitor, and gave him her hand; and to her surprise, Kate, who was commonly very shy with strangers, went up at once to Mr Rose, and suffered him to lift her upon his knee and kiss her.

"I knew not you were a man so much to childre's liking," said Avery; "methinks I never saw my little maid so friendly unto a stranger afore."

"I love them dearly," answered Mr Rose. "And I pray you, Mrs Avery, if it will please you to take the pain to visit my wife, that you bring this little maid withal."

This was Isoult's first introduction to one of the most remarkable men of the sixteenth century. Not so, perhaps, as the world sees eminence; but as G.o.d and His angels see it. Thomas Rose was a Devonshire man, and had begun to preach about the same time as Latimer. He was one of the earliest converts of the Reformation, and was constantly and consistently persecuted by the Papal party. Much of his life had been spent: abroad to escape their machinations. The entire history of this man was full of marvellous providences and hairbreadth escapes; and it was to be fuller yet. Weary of dealing in this manner, Rome had at length tried upon him those poisoned shafts which she launched at many a Gospeller--suborning false witnesses to accuse him of uncommitted crimes. Mr Rose stood the trial, and came unscathed out of it.

Isoult readily promised to visit Mrs Rose, though she was slightly dismayed on afterwards hearing from John that Mr Rose had married a foreigner.

"A Protestant, I trust?" she asked doubtfully, for she knew little of foreigners, and with the exception of a handful of Lutherans and Huguenots, thought they were all Papists--with a margin, of course, for Jews, Turks, heretics, and infidels.

John laughed as if the question amused him exceedingly. "Were it possible," he responded, "that Thomas Rose's wife should be any thing else?"

The train of visitors was only just beginning. When Isoult came in from the market, feeling very tired and overworked, on the following morning, she found Philippa Ba.s.set in her large chair, looking very much at home, while Kate, on her knee, was chattering away to her with the utmost freedom.

"Well, Isoult!" was Philippa's greeting. "Thou dost well to go a-cheapening of carrots, and leave thy friends that come to visit thee to find none in the house that they know save this," pointing to Kate.

"How dost thou, dear heart?"

"The better to see you, Mrs Philippa," said she. "I will not ask how you do, for you look rarely well. Verily, I left more in the house than Kate, or I had taken her withal."

"Isoult, dost thou mean to call me mistress all the days of thy life?"

she asked in answer.

"I mean to call you what it list you," said Isoult, "but truly you never gave me leave to do other."

"And truly you never asked for it," replied she. "Howbeit, take it now, prithee, for ever henceforward."

Isoult thanked her, and asked her "if any news were abroad."

"Any news, quotha?" she answered. "But a yard or twain. Hast heard that my Lord Protector is not in very good case?"

"Nay!" cried Isoult. "My Lord Protector! what mean you, Mrs Philippa?"

"This, Mrs Avery," answered she. "My Lord Protector, being no Lutheran, but a Gospeller, is not over well liked of some that be Lutherans, and no Gospellers: and as for us poor Catholics, we never (you know) held him for a saint. So this being the case (this in thine ear, Isoult--'tis under _benedicite_ [under the seal of confession]), certain, if not all of the King's Council, be resolved to be rid of my high and mighty Lord. And ere thou be ten days older, I count thou shalt hear somewhat thereof. I have so much from a good hand, that can be trusted; the name I utter not."

"Then," said Isoult, "be the Catholics and Lutherans conspiring together for this?"

"Truth," answered she; "they that be least Christians of both."

"You say well, Mrs Philippa," replied Isoult.

"Do I so, Mrs Avery?" she answered.

"I cry you mercy!" said Isoult; "Philippa, then, if you will have it so."

"Ay, I will have it so," said she, laughing.

"But," answered Isoult, "what saith the King's Highness thereto?"

"The King!" exclaimed she. "The King marketh but his twelfth birthday this month, dear heart. What can he know? or an' he spake, who would heed him?"

"But," said Isoult, "we hear for ever of his Highness' sageness and wisdom, such as 'tis said never had Prince afore him."