The Golden Grasshopper Part 10

Still I am sure that I shall meet her again. Do you not think so, sir?"

"Yes, dear child; there is a place where all who are clothed in the robes of the Lamb will a.s.suredly meet, and there I trust that you will meet with your mother."

Aveline looked up in Overton's face with an inquiring glance. "What do you mean?" she asked eagerly; and then in a deep low whisper, painfully drawing her breath, she said, "Is she dead?"

"The body in which you knew her has returned to dust, but she herself is now rejoicing with a joy unspeakable. Do not mourn for her, my child.

Only accept the same gracious offer she accepted, and follow the course she has followed, and a.s.suredly you will be reunited to her."

"Yes, yes, I will indeed!" exclaimed Aveline, clasping her hands and looking upwards.

Never had I seen a countenance more beautiful and radiant. Already an angelic expression rested on it, such as I am sure it will wear when glorified in heaven.

The husband, Crugeot, now came forward, for before his wife had opened the door he had concealed himself in the further room; even a humble family, such as I have described, in those days lived in dread of persecution. Yet even they would not altogether hold their tongues, but desired to witness for the truth.

We had interrupted, I found, their usual evening service, and on our knocking they had scattered, not knowing who might be about to enter.

Overton now explained to Aveline that he was her uncle, and asked her whether she would go and reside with a rich lady who would be her patroness. She looked at Dame Crugeot.

"I cannot leave her," she said, "unless she wishes to part with me."

"I do not wish to part with you, my child; but yet I would advise you to accept the generous offer which has been made."

"But will they talk to me as you have done, of the Saviour and of my dear mother? I cannot go to people who will not do that," said the little girl firmly.

Her uncle explained that she could enjoy all the advantages of wealth; but promised amus.e.m.e.nts and luxuries did not tempt her. Almost unwillingly, however, at last, by the urgent advice of her uncle, she consented to leave her Flemish friends. Hitherto I had said very little. I merely again repeated Lady Anne's offer, and told her how kind and generous a friend she had been to me, and that I was sure she would prove the same to her.

"But you will not take me to-morrow," she said; "let me have another day with my kind nurse, or more than nurse--my second mother."

I was sure that James Brocktrop would consent to remain another day; indeed, our horses required a longer rest before they were fit for the return journey.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

DISAPPEARANCE OF AVELINE.

A'Dale and I felt very proud as we escorted Mistress Aveline Radford towards London. Brocktrop had supplied her friends with money to purchase proper attire suitable to her position, for she was in truth a young lady in all respects, having been nurtured delicately, and well instructed. I foresaw that she would quickly become a favourite with the Lady Anne, for she was a damsel much suited to her taste. I esteemed her greatly, and so did A'Dale: I soon saw that. She rode on a pillion behind Master Brocktrop, whose horse was more suited to carry her than were our steeds, which were much smaller; besides, he was well accustomed to carry ladies, Lady Anne herself often thus going out.

A'Dale and I rode on either side, talking to her, and endeavouring to keep up her spirits, for she was much cast down, at leaving her kind friends, and more so at the thought of the sad fate her dear mother had suffered.

Master Overton would not quit Norwich for the present. He had there work to do, and were he to venture into London, he would quickly be recognised and put to death. We journeyed more slowly than we had done when going north, as we were afraid of tiring the little lady.

We reached Lombard Street without any adventure. Lady Anne stretched out her arms towards Aveline when she saw her, almost as if she had been her own child, and pressed her to her bosom.

"I will be a mother to you," she said, gazing at her affectionately.

Truly Lady Anne had a tender heart. In a short time the little girl recovered her spirits, though even in the midst of her play with young Richard she would sometimes stop, and the tears would come into her eyes. I knew then that she was thinking of her mother.

Richard was a delicate boy. He had gone to school at first with me, but was unable to bear the rough treatment there, and he accordingly remained at home, his mother being well competent to teach him various branches of learning, while certain masters came at times to impart other knowledge. He and Aveline soon became great friends. He watched over her as if she was his sister, and she regarded him in the light of a brother. He was never weary of playing with her, albeit she now and then gave herself not a few airs when he was inclined to humour her.

Yet she was in no degree wayward, but always obedient and affectionate to the Lady Anne.

Master Gresham returned from Spain, and proceeded again in the course of a few days to Antwerp.

I may say here, that I did not note down his comings and goings.

Sometimes he remained in England only four or five days, scarcely sufficient to recruit his strength, and then once more returned about the Queen's business to Antwerp. He came over while King Philip was in England, and I heard him tell Lady Anne that he was greatly disconcerted with the course events were taking; that a war with France would neither be profitable nor honourable; but the King had set his mind on it; and the Queen, from her foolish fondness, would carry out his wishes, even though it might prove the destruction of her kingdom.

A'Dale came to me one day about this time, and told me that he was growing tired of the life of a mercer's apprentice, and that he was minded to join the English forces who were going out to aid the Spanish army on the Flemish frontier. It was to consist of seven thousand men: four of infantry, one of cavalry, and two of pioneers. I had two strong reasons to urge against this; one was that he would be united with Romanists and supporting the cause of Rome and tyranny; and the other, that being in an honourable position which must some day become profitable to him, when he might marry and settle down as a citizen, he would be wrong to abandon it for one where he might lose his life or limbs, and, moreover, be employed in slaughtering his fellow-creatures.

He laughed at what he called my new ideas. I said that I was sure they were right ideas, and that G.o.d never intended men to fight and destroy one another.

"But if our country were attacked by foes, would you not fight?" he asked.

"That is a different case," I said. "If I found myself a soldier, a soldier I would remain, or if the country were attacked, I would become one for the sake of defending it; but you have an honourable, peaceable calling, and you propose quitting it without necessity for the sake of going and fighting on the side of a people for whom you have no love, against a nation many of whom are true Protestants and friendly disposed to England."

He replied that he would think over what I had said; but I was afraid I had made but little impression on him.

The army set forth without him, however. Some time after this I had still greater difficulty in persuading him to remain at home, when news came of the great battle fought on the banks of the Somme, near the town of Saint Quentin. On one side were the Spanish, English, Flemish, and German host, under the Duke of Savoy. The French were under Constable Montmorency. They were beaten, with a dreadful loss. Never since the fatal day of Agincourt had the French suffered a more disastrous defeat.

Six thousand were slain, and there were as many prisoners taken. The Admiral Coligny bravely defended Saint Quentin to the last, but the place was at length taken by storm, amidst horrors unspeakable.

When we heard of them, I asked A'Dale whether he still could wish he had been there.

"No," he said; "honestly, I am thankful that I had not to take part in such scenes."

And now I must briefly run over the events I find noted in my diary.

I bade farewell to school, and though Master Gresham talked of letting me go to college, as he had gone, he afterwards altered his intentions, since the Universities were under the complete control of Cardinal Pole and his commissioners. "The object of going to college is to enlarge the mind and gain knowledge; but while people such as these rule there, I opine that neither one object nor the other is likely to be attained,"

observed Master Gresham. "I will therefore keep you with me, Ernst; you can serve in my shop, and there gain a knowledge of such business as may be greatly useful to you."

Master Gresham's house, I should have said, was one of the best in Lombard Street, which was beyond doubt the handsomest street in London.

Over the door was a crest--a large metal gra.s.shopper, so that no stranger had any difficulty in finding the house. As is well-known, this street gained its name from the Italian merchants who came from Genoa, Lucca, Florence, and Venice, and were known as Lombards. They were very useful to the Italian clergy who had benefices in England, and who were thus able to receive their incomes drawn from England without difficulty. Thus the English supported a number of foreign priests, from whom they received no benefit whatever. By degrees Englishmen entered into the same business.

As may be supposed, it would be difficult to describe the variety of affairs in which my patron was engaged. Among others we bought and sold plate, and foreign gold and silver coins. These we melted and culled.

Some were recoined at the Mint, and with the rest we supplied the refiners, plate-workers, and merchants who required the precious metals.

Whenever we received money at usury, we gave a bond, and my patron was always able to lend it out again, either to the Government or to others at a still higher rate of usury. At times, the stranger from the country might have supposed that all the gold and silver in England had been collected in Lombard Street, for here were magnificent silver vessels exposed for sale, and vast quant.i.ties of ancient and modern coins. Gold chains, too, were seen hung up, and jewels of all sorts.

In truth, all articles of value might there be purchased or disposed of.

Master John Elliot was at this time factor and manager of the establishment, my patron being seldom in England, or remaining, when he did come, but a few days at a time. I was expecting every day to be summoned to Antwerp. This would have been much to my sorrow, for I felt unwilling to leave the Lady Anne, and still more so, I may confess, to part from the little Aveline. My affection for her was that of a brother for a sister--at least I thought so, and so it might have been.

At length Master Gresham returned. I knew not why, but suspected it was owing to some difference with the Council. For some time, therefore, he attended to his own private affairs. It had been arranged that he, with Lady Anne, was to go down to Osterley, whither he delighted to retire from the the cares of business.

I was one afternoon seated at my desk writing away rapidly, and intent on my work, when the porter told me that a stranger wished to speak with me. On going to the entrance, I found, standing in a recess where no light fell, a person who, as I came up, uttered my name.

"Ernst Verner," he said, and I at once recognised the voice of Master Overton, "you have already conferred on me a great favour; will you increase it? I wish to see my young niece. I am about again to leave England, and even this night hope to embark. The search after me is, I find, very hot, and had I not managed to mislead my pursuers, who believe that I am gone to the North, I could not have ventured into London, even though I am so disguised that few would discover me. Did I think that there would be any risk to the girl, I would not ask the favour; but she is the only being on earth now remaining to whom I am allied by ties of blood. Her mother was my dearest sister, and she was the last of several who had before her death left this world."

The request seemed very simple, and I undertook to convey it to Lady Anne, who would, I hoped, without difficulty grant it. A short way off was an archway, beneath which I thought Overton could speak to his niece un.o.bserved, and I promised, should I obtain permission, to conduct her there. Master Gresham was from home, and Lady Anne, when I told her of Overton's request, had some hesitation as to allowing Aveline to go out to meet him. The little girl, however, as soon as she heard the invitation, entreated that she might bid farewell to her uncle. It had become almost dark, but I a.s.sured Lady Anne this would make no difference. At length, reluctantly, she gave Aveline permission to visit the place appointed. I agreed to wait for her at a little distance. This arrangement was safer, certainly, than allowing a condemned priest to enter the house.

Overton was at the spot appointed. "I have a few farewell words to speak to my young niece," he said, "and in ten minutes I beg you to return to escort her back."

Scarcely had I retired, when I heard a cry, and through the gloom I saw several persons crowding into the gateway. I ran towards it, wondering what had occurred, but arrived in time only to catch a glimpse of Overton and Aveline in the midst of a party who were hurrying them along. I ran after them, but they heeded me not. One, however, suddenly turned round and dealt me a blow which brought me to the ground, almost senseless. When I recovered, they had disappeared, and I knew not what road they had taken. I could not bring myself to go back with the sad news to Lady Anne. I knew not in what direction to follow.

But I ran blindly on, hoping by some means I might overtake them. The dreadful fear came over me that he was a traitor, and that all he had said was but a cloak to cover his designs.

At length, broken-hearted, I returned to Lombard Street. Lady Anne received me with a look of grief, not unmixed with indignation, such as I had never seen.