The White Lady of Hazelwood Part 11

"Child," she said to Amphillis, "she lived for nought save that boy!

Her daughter was scarce anything to her; it was alway the lad, the lad!

And thus the lad a-payeth her for all her love and sacrifice--for the heart that stood betwixt him and evil, for the gold and jewels that she thought too mean to be set in comparison with him, for the weary arms that bare him, and the tired feet that carried him about, a little wailing babe--for the toil and the labour, the hope and the fear, the waiting and the sorrow! Ay, but I marvel in what manner of coin G.o.d our Father shall pay him!"

"But wherefore doth he so?" cried Amphillis.

"She was in his way," replied Perrote, in a tone of constrained bitterness. "He could not have all his will for her. He desired to make bargains, and issue mandates, and reign at his pleasure, and she told him the bargains were unprofitable, and the mandates unjust, and it was not agreeable. 'Twas full awkward and ill-convenient, look you, to have an old mother interfering with man's pleasure. He would, have set her in a fair palace, and given her due dower, I reckon, would she but there have tarried, like a slug on a cabbage-leaf, and let him alone; and she would not. How could she? She was not a slug, but an eagle.

And 'tis not the nature of an eagle to hang hour after hour upon a cabbage-leaf. So, as King Edward had at the first kept her in durance for his own ends, my gracious Lord Duke did entreat him to continue the same on his account. As for my Lady d.u.c.h.ess, I say not; I know her not.

This only I know, that my Lady Foljambe is her kinswoman. And, most times, there is a woman at the bottom of all evil mischief. Ay, there is so!"

"Mistress Perrote, it seemeth me this is worser world than I wist ere I came hither."

"Art avised o' that? Ay, Phyllis, thou shalt find it so; and the further thou journeyest therein, the worser shalt thou find it."

"Mistress, wherefore is it that this poor lady of ours is kept so secret? It seemeth as though man would have none know where she were."

"_Ha, chetife_! [Oh, miserable!] I can but avise thee to ask so much at them that do keep her."

"Shall she never be suffered to come forth?"

"Ay," said Perrote, slowly and solemnly. "She shall come forth one day.

But I mis...o...b.. if it shall be ere the King come Himself for her."

"The King! Shall his Grace come hither?" inquired Amphillis, with much interest. She thought of no king but Edward the Third.

Perrote's eyes were uplifted towards the stars. She spoke as if she were answering them rather than Amphillis.

"He shall deem [judge] the poor men of the people, and He shall make safe the sons of poor men; and He shall make low the false challenger.

And He shall dwell with the sun, and before the moon, in generation and in to generation... And He shall be Lord from the sea till to the sea, and from the flood till to the ending of the world... For He shall deliver a poor man from the mighty, and a poor man to whom was none helper. He shall spare a poor man and needy, and He shall make safe the souls of poor men... Blessed be the name of His majesty withouten end!

and all earth shall be filled with His majesty. Be it done, be it done!" [Note 1.]

Amphillis almost held her breath as she listened, for the first time in her life, to the grand roll of those sonorous verses.

"That were a King!" she said.

"That shall be a King," answered Perrote, softly. "Not yet is His kingdom of this world. But He is King of Israel, and King of kings, and King of the everlasting ages; and the day cometh when He shall be King of nations, when there shall be one Lord over all the earth, and His Name one. Is He thy King, Amphillis Neville?"

"Signify you our blessed Lord, Mistress Perrote?"

"Surely, my maid. Could any other answer thereto?"

"I reckon so," said Amphillis, calmly, as she put away her brush, and began undressing.

"I would make sure, if I were thou. For the subjects be like to dwell in the Court when they be preferred to higher place. 'Ye ben servantis to that thing to which ye han obeisched.' [Note 2.] Whose servant art thou? Who reigns in thine inner soul, Phyllis?"

"Soothly, Mistress, I myself. None other, I ween."

"Nay, one other must there needs be. Thou obeyest the rule of one of two masters--either Christ our Lord, or Satan His enemy."

"In very deed, Mistress, I serve G.o.d."

"Then thou art concerned to please G.o.d in everything. Or is it rather, that thou art willing to please G.o.d in such matters as shall not displease Amphillis Neville?"

Amphillis folded up sundry new and not altogether agreeable thoughts in the garments which she was taking off and laying in neat order on the top of her chest for the morning. Perrote waited for the answer. It did not come until Amphillis's head was on the pillow.

"Cannot I please G.o.d and myself both?"

"That canst thou, full well and sweetly, if so be thou put G.o.d first.

Otherwise, nay."

"Soothly, Mistress, I know not well what you would be at."

"What our Saviour would be at Himself, which is, thy true bliss and blessedness, Phyllis. My maid, to be a.s.sured of fair ending and good welcome at the end of the journey makes not the journeying wearier. To know not whither thou art wending, save that it is into the dark; to be met of a stranger, that may be likewise an enemy; to be had up afore the judge's bar, with no advocate to plead for thee, and no surety of acquittal,--that is evil journeying, Phyllis, Dost not think so much?"

Perrote listened in vain for any answer.

Note 1. Psalm seventy-two, verses 4, 5, 8, 12, 13, 18, 19; Hereford and Purvey's version, 1381-8.

Note 2. Romans six, verse 16; Wycliffe's version, 1382.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

ON THE TERRACE.

"Where we disavow Being keeper to our brother, we're his Cain."

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

"Hylton, thou art weary gear!"

"What ails me?"

"What ails thee, forsooth? Marry, but that's as good a jest as I heard this year! I lack thee to tell me that. For what ails me at thee, that were other matter, and I can give thee to wit, an' thou wilt. Thou art as heavy as lead, and as dull as ditch-water, and as flat as dowled [flat] ale. I would I were but mine own master, and I'd mount my horse, and ride away from the whole sort of you!"

"From your father and mother, Matthew?"

"Certes. Where's the good of fathers and mothers, save to crimp and cramp young folks that would fain stretch their wings and be off into the sunlight? Mine never do nought else."

"Think you not the fathers and mothers might reasonably ask, Where's the good of sons and daughters? How much have you cost yours, Matthew, since you were born?"

Matthew Foljambe turned round with a light laugh, and gazed half contemptuously at the speaker.

"Gentlemen never reckon," said he. "'Tis a mean business, only fit for tradesfolk."

"You might reckon that sum, Matthew, without damage to your gentle blood. The King himself reckoneth up the troops he shall lack, and the convention-subsidy due from each man to furnish them. You shall scantly go above him, I count."