The White Lady of Hazelwood Part 15

Perrote bought an ivory comb of Ivo, which cost her three shillings, for old acquaintance sake; Marabel purchased six silver b.u.t.tons in the form of a lamb, for which she paid 8 shillings 9 pence; Agatha invested four shillings in a chaplet of pearls; while Amphillis, whose purse was very low, and had never been otherwise, contented herself with a sixpenny casket. Ivo, however, was well satisfied, and packed up his goods with a radiant face.

When the two itinerant tradesmen had shouldered their packs, and had gone forth, Lady Foljambe hastily summoned her husband's squire. She was not sufficiently high in dignity to have a squire of her own.

"Prithee, keep watch of yon little jeweller packman," said she, uneasily. "Mark whither he goeth, and see that he hold no discourse with any of the household, without it be to trade withal. I desire to know him clear of the vicinage ere the dark falleth."

Norman Hylton bowed in answer, and went out.

He found the two packmen in the courtyard, the centre of an admiring throng of servants and retainers, all of whom were anxious to inspect their goods, some from a desire to make such purchases as they could afford, and all from that longing to relieve the monotony of life which besets man in general, and must have been especially tempting in the Middle Ages. A travelling pedlar was the subst.i.tute for an ill.u.s.trated newspaper, his pack supplying the engravings, and his tongue the text.

These men and pilgrims were the chief newsmongers of the day.

Ivo dangled a pair of blue gla.s.s ear-rings before the enchanted eyes of Kate the chambermaid.

"You shall have dem dirt sheap! Treepence de pair--dat is all. Vat lack you, my young maids? Here is mirrors and combs, scissors and knives, necklaces, beads and girdles, purses of Rouen, forcers and gipsers--all manner you can wish. Relics I have, if you desire dem--a little finger-bone of Saint George, and a tooth of de dragon dat he slew; a t'read of de veil of Saint Agat'a, and de paring of Saint Matthew's nails. Here is brooches, crespines, charms, spectacles, alners, b.a.l.l.s, puppets, coffers, bells, baskets for de maids'

needlework, pins, needles, ear-rings, shoe-buckles, b.u.t.tons--everyting!

And here--here is my beautifullest ting--my chiefest relic, in de leetle silver box--see!"

"Nay, what is it, trow?" inquired Kate, who looked with deep interest through the interstices of the filagree, and saw nothing but a few inches of coa.r.s.e linen thread.

"Oh, it is de blessed relic! Look you, our Lady made shirt for Saint Joseph, and she cut off de t'read, and it fall on de floor, and dere it lie till Saint Petronilla come by, and she pick it up and put it in her bosom. It is all writ down inside. De holy Fader give it my moder's grandmoder's aunt, when she go to Rome. It is wort' tousands of pounds--de t'read dat our blessed Lady draw t'rough her fingers. You should have no maladies never, if you wear dat."

"Ay, but such things as that be alonely for folk as can pay for 'em, I reckon," said Kate, looking wistfully, first at the blue ear-rings, and then at the blessed relic.

Ivo made a screen of his hand, and spoke into Kate's ear.

"See you, now! You buy dem, and I trow him you into de bargain! Said I well, fair maid?"

"What, all for threepence?" gasped the bewitched Kate.

"All for t'ree-pence. De blessed relic and de beautiful ear-rings! It is dirt sheap. I would not say it to n.o.body else, only my friends. See you?"

Kate looked in his face to see if he meant it, and then slowly drew out her purse. The warmth of Ivo's friendship, ten minutes old at the most, rather staggered her. But the ear-rings had taken her fancy, and she was also, though less, desirous to possess the holy relic. She poured out into the palm of her hand various pence, halfpence, and farthings, and began endeavouring to reckon up the threepence; a difficult task for a girl utterly ignorant of figures.

"You leave me count it," suggested the little packman. "I will not cheat you--no, no! How could I, wid de blessed relic in mine hand?

One, two, free. Dere! I put in de rings in your ears? ah, dey make you look beautiful, beautiful! De widow lady, I see her not when I have my pack in hall. She is well?"

"What widow lady, trow?" said Kate, feeling the first ear-ring glide softly into her ear.

"Ah, I have afore been here. I see a widow lady at de window. Why come she not to hall?--Oh, how fair you shall be! you shall every eye charm!--She is here no more--yes?"

"Well, ay--there is a widow lady dwelleth here," said Kate, offering the other ear to her beguiler, just as Norman Hylton came up to them; "but she is a prisoner, and--hush! haste you, now, or I must run without them."

"Dat shall you not," said Ivo, quickly slipping the second ear-ring into its place. "Ah, how lovesome should you be, under dat bush by the gate, that hath de yellow flowers, when de sun was setting, and all golden behind you! Keep well de holy relic; it shall bring you good."

And with a significant look, and a glance upwards at the house, Ivo shouldered his pack, and turned away.

The mercer had not seemed anxious to do business with the household.

Perhaps he felt that his wares were scarcely within their means. He sat quietly in the gateway until the jeweller had finished his chaffering, when he rose and walked out beside him. The two packs were carefully strapped on the waiting mules, which were held by the lad, and the party marched down the slope from the gateway.

"What bought you with your holy relic and your ear-rings, Ivo?" asked the mercer, with a rather satirical glance at his companion, when they were well out of hearing. "Aught that was worth them?"

"I bought the news that our Lady abideth hither," was the grave reply; "and it was cheap, at the cost of a sc.r.a.p of tin and another of gla.s.s, and an inch or twain of thread out of your pack. If yon maid have but wit to be under the shrub by the gate at sunset, I shall win more of her. But she's but a poor brain, or I err. Howbeit, I've had my ear-rings' worth. They cost but a halfpenny. Can you see aught from here? Your eyes be sharper than mine."

"I see somewhat white at yonder window. But, Ivo, were you wise to tell the lady you came from Hennebon?"

"I was, Sir Roland. She will suspect me now, instead of you; and if, as I guess, she send a spy after us, when we part company he will follow me, and you shall be quit of him."

The mercer glanced back, as though to see if any one were following.

"Well, perchance you say well," he answered. "There is none behind, methinks. So now to rejoin Father Eloy."

Norman Hylton had not followed the packmen beyond the gate. He did not like the business, and was glad to be rid of it. He only kept watch of them till they disappeared up the hill, and then returned to tell Lady Foljambe the direction which they had taken.

Kate's mind was considerably exercised. As Ivo had remarked, her wits were by no means of the first quality, but her conceit and love of admiration far outstripped them. The little jeweller had seen this, and had guessed that she would best answer his purpose of the younger members of the household. Quiet, sensible Joan, the upper chambermaid, would not have suited him at all; neither would st.u.r.dy, straightforward Meg, the cook-maid; but Kate's vanity and indiscretion were both so patent that he fixed on her at once as his chosen accomplice. His only doubt was whether she had sense enough to understand his hint about being under the bush at sunset. Ivo provided himself with a showy brooch of red gla.s.s set in gilt copper, which Kate was intended to accept as gold and rubies; and leaving his pack under the care of his fellow conspirator--for Ivo was really the pedlar which Roland was not-- he slipped back to Hazelwood, and shortly before the sun set was prowling about in the neighbourhood of the bush which stood just outside the gate of Hazelwood Manor. Before he had been there many minutes, a light, tripping footstep was heard; and poor, foolish Kate, with the blue drops in her ears, came like a giddy fly into the web of Ivo the spider.

CHAPTER NINE.

MISCHIEF.

"I've nothing to do with better and worse--I haven't to judge for the rest: If other men are not better than I am, they are bad enough at the best."

When Ivo thought proper to see Kate approaching, he turned with an exclamation of hyperbolical admiration. He knew perfectly the type of woman with whom he had to deal. "Ah, it is den you, fair maid? You be fair widout dem, but much fairer wid de ear-rings, I you a.s.sure. Ah, if you had but a comely ouche at your t'roat, just dere,"--and Ivo laid a fat brown finger at the base of his own--"your beauty would be perfect-- perfect!"

"Lack-a-day, I would I had!" responded silly Kate; "but ouches and such be not for the likes of me."

"How? Say no such a ting! I know of one jewel, a ruby of de best, and de setting of pure gold, fit for a queen, dat might be had by de maid who would give herself one leetle pain to tell me only one leetle ting, dat should harm none; but you care not, I dare say, to trouble you-self so much."

And Ivo thrust his hands in his pockets, and began to whistle softly.

"Nay, now; do you?" said the bewitched fly, getting a little deeper into the web. "Good Master Packman, do of your grace tell me how a maid should earn that jewel?"

Ivo drew the brooch half out of his breast, so as just to allow Kate the least glance at it possible.

"Is that the jewel?" she asked, eagerly. "Eh, but it shineth well-nigh to match the sun himself! Come, now; what should I tell you? I'll do aught to win it."

Ivo came close to her, and spoke into her ear.

"Show me which is the prisoner's window."

"Well, it's yon oriel, on the inner side of--Eh, but I marvel if I do ill to tell you!"

"Tell me noting at all dat you count ill," was the pious answer of Ivo, who had got to know all he needed except one item. "You can tarry a little longer? or you are very busy? Sir G.o.dfrey is away, is it not?"

"Nay, he's at home, but he'll be hence next week. He's to tilt at the tournament at Leicester."

"Ah! dat will be grand sight, all de knights and de ladies. But I am sure--sure--dere shall not be one so fair as you, sweet maid. Look you, I pin de jewel at your neck. It is wort von hundred pound, I do ensure you."