Robin Tremayne - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Robin Tremayne Part 45 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"And where wilt thou go, Annis?" asked Isoult, "for my Lady's Grace of Suffolk is out of this kingdom. I would have loved dearly to have thee hither till thou mightest fit thyself with a service, but verily all my chambers be full filled, and I would not lodge thee in the nursery, where be already Esther and the childre, except for a short s.p.a.ce."
A little smile played about the lips of Annis.
"Isoult," she said, "after all I have said and writ touching Spain (and in good sooth may yet say and write), I fear thou shalt think me a marvellous contrarious maid, if I own to thee that I am about to wed a Spanish gentleman."
"Well," answered her friend, "that hangeth upon the Spanish gentleman's particular."
"Truth," replied she; "and if I did not verily believe the grace of G.o.d to be in his heart, trust me, Isoult, I would never have him."
"But wilt thou, then, go back to dwell in Spain?"
"G.o.d forbid!" cried she, heartily.
"I am afeard, sweet heart," suggested Isoult, "thou shalt find this country little better. There be nigh every week burnings some whither."
"O Isoult, Isoult!" cried she, vehemently. "There may be any thing of horrible and evil; but that all were not so much as worthy to be cast into the scale against the Inquisition!"
"Well," said she, "I have not dwelt there as thou hast; but I have dwelt here these last three years, the which thou hast not. But who, prithee, is thy servant [suitor]? He is not in the King's house, trow?"
"No, nor like to be," said Annis. "It is Don Juan de Alameda, brother's son to Dona Isabel, of whom I writ to thee."
"Thou wrotest marvellous little to me, Annis," said Isoult, smilingly.
"Nay, I writ twice in every year, as I promised," answered she.
"Then know thou," said Isoult, "that I never had those thy letters, saving two, which were (as I judge) the first thou didst write, and one other, two years gone or more, writ on the 14th day of August."
"I writ thee three beside them," answered she. "I suppose they were lost at sea, or maybe they lie in the coffers of the Inquisition. Any way, let them be now. I thank G.o.d I am come safe out of that land, where, if any whither, Satan hath his throne."
"Then," said Dr Thorpe, who had come in while she was speaking, "he must have two; for I am a.s.sured there is one set up at Westminster, nor is he oft away from it."
Annis pa.s.sed the rest of the day with Isoult, and Don Juan came in the evening to escort her to the inn where she was staying.
"I must needs allow Don Juan a very proper gentleman, and right fair in his ways; but I would Annis' husband had been an Englishman. I feel not to trust any Spaniard at all," said Isoult, after Annis was gone.
"Why," said Marguerite Rose, "they are like us women. Some of the good ones may be very good; but all the bad ones be very bad indeed."
Austin Bernher brought full news of the death of Ridley and Latimer.
Isoult asked especially "if they had great suffering, and if they abode firm in the truth."
"To the abiding firm," said he, "yea, firm as the Mount Zion, that standeth fast for ever. For the suffering, it seemed me that my dear master suffered nothing at all, but with Dr Ridley (I sorrow to say it) it was far otherwise. But hearken, and you shall wit all.
"The night afore they suffered, Dr Ridley was very pleasant at supper, and bade them all that were at the table to his wedding; 'for,' saith he, 'I must be married to-morrow. And though my breakfast be somewhat sharp and painful, yet I am sure my supper shall be more pleasant and sweet.' Then saith Mr Shipside, his brother [Note 1], 'I will bide with you this night.' 'Nay,' answered he, 'not so, for I mean to go to bed, and sleep as quietly as ever I did in my life.'
"The stake was made ready on the north side of the town, in the town-ditch, over against Balliol College; and my Lord Williams of Thame had the ordering thereof. As Dr Ridley pa.s.sed Bocardo, he looked up, thinking to have seen my Lord Archbishop at the gla.s.s-window; but they had provided against that, by busying him in disputation with a Spanish friar. Then Dr Ridley, looking back, espied my master coming after.
'Oh!' saith he, 'be you there?'--'Yea,' saith my master; 'have after as fast as I can follow.' So when they came to the stake, Dr Ridley embraced him, saying, 'Brother, be of good heart, for G.o.d will either a.s.suage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it.' Then they knelt and prayed; and after, talked a little to each other, but what they said none heard. Dr Smith [Robert Smith, a renegade from Lutheranism] preached the sermon, from 'Though I give my body to be burned,' and so forth, but his discourse lasted but a few minutes, and was nought save railing against heretics. Then Dr Ridley entreated of my Lord Williams leave of speech; which he would have given, but Mr Vice-Chancellor and the bailiffs would not suffer it, only that they might speak if they would recant, Dr Ridley cried then, 'I will never deny my Lord Christ!' and arising from his knees, he cried again with a loud voice, 'Well, then, I commit our cause to Almighty G.o.d, who shall indifferently judge all.' Whereto my master added his old posy [motto, maxim], 'Well, there is nothing hid but it shall be opened.' So that after they made them ready, and were fastened to the stake; and Mr Shipside brought two bags of gunpowder and tied around their necks.
Then they brought a lighted f.a.ggot, and laid it at Dr Ridley's feet.
Then said my master, 'Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man; we shall this day light such a candle, by G.o.d's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.'
"When Dr Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried, with a wondrous loud voice, 'Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit!' And oft afterwards, 'Lord, Lord, receive my spirit!' My master, on the other side, did as vehemently cry, 'O Father of Heaven, receive my soul!' Who [Latimer] received the flame as it were embracing it, and after he had stroked his face, and bathed his hands a little in the fire, soon died, to the sight of all present having no pain. Dr Ridley's suffering, on the contrary side, was fearful, and only to compare with Bishop Hooper. Ask me not to say more touching it. But at last the flame reached the gunpowder, and after that he was seen to stir no more, only to fall down at Mr Latimer's feet. I will but say more, that hundreds of them which saw the sight shed tears thereover."
No one spoke when Austin ended.
At last, John said softly, "'Never to be put out!' Lord, grant this word of Thy martyr, and let that bright lamp lighted unto Thee give light for ever!"
Three hundred years have run out since that dread October day, when the candle was lighted at Oxford which should never be put out. And put out it has never been. Satan and all his angels may blow against it, but G.o.d holds it in the hollow of His hand, and there it is safe.
Yet there is a word of warning, as well as a word of hope. To the Church at Ephesus saith our Lord, "I know thy works,"--yea, "and thy labour,"--yea, "and thy patience, and how thou canst not bear them which are evil; and thou hast tried them which say they are apostles, and are not, and hast found them liars; and hast borne, and hast patience, and for my name's sake hast laboured, and hast not fainted." Can more than this be said to our Church? Nay, can all this be said to her? G.o.d grant it. "Nevertheless"--nevertheless!--"I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love." O Lord, how tenderly Thou dealest! Not "left thy love:" it was not so bad as that. Yet see how He notes the leaving of the _first_ love! A little colder; a little deader; a little less ready to put on the coat, to defile the feet, to rise and open to the Beloved. Only a little; but how that little grieves His heart, who hath never left His first love. And what is the end? "I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent."
"O earth," and O England, "hear the word of the Lord!" Art thou yet warm in thy first love? Has there been no looking back to Sodom, no longing for the flesh-pots of Egypt, no eyes wandering toward the house of Baal? G.o.d grant that thou mayest not lose thy candle! It was wrought of blood and in tears: is it a light thing that thou shouldst let it be put out?
One night in November came in Mr Underhill, and an hour after him, Mr Ferris.
"Welcome, George!" said Mr Underhill. "Any news abroad?"
"Have you heard none to-night?" said he.
"Not so much as would go by the eye of a needle," he answered. "Is there tidings?"
"The Bishop of Winchester is dead."
Mr Underhill sprang to his feet with a cry of exultation.
"'Glory to G.o.d in the highest!' yea, I might go further--'on earth peace!' Jack, let us sing the _Te Deum_."
"Not in my house," said John, quietly.
"Thou recreant faint-heart! What meanest?"
"I am ready enough to sing the _Te Deum_, Ned," pursued John, "but not for so terrible a thing as the casting of that poor sinner, with the blood of G.o.d's saints red upon his soul, into the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone."
"How can you stay to think of it?" cried Mr Underhill in his ringing voice. "Is that blood even now not crying unto G.o.d? Are Rogers and Bradford, are Ridley and Latimer, yet avenged? Shall not the saints wash their feet _in_ the blood of the unG.o.dly? Yea, let them fall, and never rise up again! Shall we be thus slack to praise G.o.d for freedom?"
"Wait till we are free," said John, drily.
"And moderate your voice, Ned Underhill," added Mr Ferris, "if you would be free long."
Mr Underhill laid his hands upon John's shoulders.
"Look me in the face, John Avery," answered he, "and tell me what you mean. Think you this great palace of cruelty and injustice built up by him shall not crumble to dust along with Stephen Gardiner?"
"I doubt it very greatly," he replied.
"a.s.suredly not," said Marguerite Rose, "so long as the King Philip is in this country, and the Bishop of London. It might ask Dr Gardiner to build the palace, but I think they shall be able to keep it standing."
"But King Philip is not in this country," said Mr Underhill.
"He is master of it," said John.