The White Lady of Hazelwood Part 22

"Trust me, holy Father, I will suffer nought harmful to enter my doors, nor any man disapproved by your Lordship. Is there news abroad, may man wit?"

"Ay, we had last night an holy palmer in our abbey," responded the Abbot, with a calmer brow. "He left us this morrow on his way to Jesmond. You wist, doubtless, that my Lord of York is departed?"

"No, verily--my Lord of York! Is yet any successor appointed?"

"Ay, so 'tis said--Father Neville, as men say."

Amphillis looked up with some interest, on hearing her own name.

"Who is he, this Father Neville?"

"Soothly, who is he?" repeated the Abbot, with evident irritation.

"Brother to my Lord Neville of Raby; but what hath he done, trow, to be advanced thus without merit unto the second mitre in the realm? Some meaner bishop, or worthy abbot, should have been far fitter for the preferment."

"The worthy Abbot of Darley in especial!" whispered Agatha in the ear of Amphillis.

"What manner of man is he, holy Father, by your leave?"

"One of these new sectaries," replied the Abbot, irascibly. "A man that favours the poor priests of whom you spake, and swears by the Rector of Ludgarshall, this Wycliffe, that maketh all this bruit. Prithee, who is the Rector of Ludgarshall, that we must all be at his beck and ordering?

Was there no truth in the whole Church Catholic, these thirteen hundred years, that this Dan John must claim for to have discovered it anew?

Pshaw! 'tis folly."

"And what other tidings be there, pray you, holy Father?"

"Scarce aught beside of note, I think," answered the Abbot, meditatively--"without it be the news from Brittany of late--'tis said all Brittany is in revolt, and the King of France aiding the same, and the Duke is fled over hither to King Edward, leaving my Lady d.u.c.h.ess shut up in the Castle of Auray, which 'tis thought the French King shall besiege. Man reckons he comes for little--I would say, that our King shall give him little ado over that matter, without it were to ransom my Lady, should she be taken, she being step-daughter unto my Lord Prince."

"The Lord King, then, showeth him no great favour?"

"Favour enough to his particular [to himself personally]; but you will quickly judge there is little likelihood of a new army fitted out for Brittany, when you hear that his Grace writ to my Lord Archbishop of Canterbury that he should in no wise submit to the tax laid on the clergy by my Lord Cardinal of Cluny, that came o'er touching those affairs, and charged the expenses of his journey on the clergy of England. The King gave promise to stand by them in case they should resist, and bade them take no heed of the censure of the said Nuncio, seeing the people of England were not concerned touching matters of Brittany; and where the cause, quoth he, is so unjust, the curse must needs fall harmless."

"Brave words, in good sooth!" said young G.o.dfrey.

"Ay, our Lord the King is not he that shall suffer man to ride roughshod over him," added his father.

"The which is full well in case of laymen," said the Abbot, a little severely; "yet it becometh even princes to be buxom and reverent to the Church, and unto all spiritual men."

"If it might please you, holy Father, would you do so much grace as tell me where is my Lord Duke at this present?"

It was Perrote who asked the question, and with evident uneasiness.

The Abbot glanced at her, and then answered carelessly. She was only one of the household, as he saw. What did her anxiety matter to my Lord Abbot of Darley?

"By my Lady Saint Mary, that wis I little," said he. "At Windsor, maybe, or Woodstock--with the King."

"The palmer told us the King was at Woodstock," remarked one of the hitherto silent monks.

The Abbot annihilated him by a glance.

"Verily, an' he were," remarked Sir G.o.dfrey, "it should tell but little by now, when he may as like as not be at Winchester or Norwich."

Our Plantagenet sovereigns were perpetual travellers up and down the kingdom, rarely staying even a fortnight in one place, though occasionally they were stationary for some weeks; but the old and infirm King who now occupied the throne had moved about less than usual of late years.

Perrote was silent, but her face took a resolute expression, which Sir G.o.dfrey had learned to his annoyance. When the "bothering old woman"

looked like that, she generally bothered him before he was much older.

And Sir G.o.dfrey, like many others of his species, detested being bothered.

He soon found that fate remembered him. As he was going up to bed that night, he found Perrote waiting for him on the landing.

"Sir, pray you a word," said she.

Sir G.o.dfrey stood sulkily still.

"If my Lord Duke be now in England, should he not know that his mother is near her end?"

"How am I to send to him, trow?" growled the custodian. "I wis not where he is."

"A messenger could find out the Court, Sir," answered Perrote. "And it would comfort her last days if he came."

"And if he refused?"

Perrote's dark eyes flashed fire.

"Then may G.o.d have mercy on him!--if He have any mercy for such a heartless wretch as he should so be."

"Keep a civil tongue in your head, Perrote de Carhaix," said Sir G.o.dfrey, beginning to ascend the upper stair. "You see, your poor priests are no good. You'd better be quiet."

Perrote stood still, candle in hand, till he disappeared.

"I will be silent towards man," she said, in a low voice; "but I will pour out mine heart as water before the face of the Lord. The road toward Heaven is alway open: and they whom men beat back and tread down are the most like to win ear of Him. Make no tarrying, O my G.o.d!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

WHEREIN SUNDRY PEOPLE ACT FOOLISHLY.

"Why for the dead, who are at rest?

Pray for the living, in whose breast The struggle between right and wrong Is raging terrible and strong."

Longfellow.

Amphillis Neville was a most unsuspicious person. It never occurred to her to expect any one to do what, in his place, she would not have done; and all that she would have done was so simple and straightforward, that scheming of every sort was an impossible idea, until suggested by some one else. She was consequently much surprised when Perrote said one evening--

"Phyllis, I could find in mine heart to wish thy cousin had tarried hence."

The discovery of Ricarda's deception was the only solution of this remark which presented itself to Amphillis, but her natural caution stood her in good stead, and she merely inquired her companion's meaning.

"Hast not seen that she laboureth to catch Master Hylton into her net?"