if he falls in with the pursuivant fellow who carries the warrant of
the Privy Council, it is likely he will back him with force sufficient
to try to execute it. And I doubt whether any of our friends can be
summoned together in haste, sufficient to resist such a power as they
are like to bring together."
"Nor would I wish any friends to take arms, in my name, against the
King's warrant, Sir Geoffrey," said the Countess.
"Nay, for that matter," replied the Knight, "an his Majesty will grant
warrants against his best friends, he must look to have them resisted.
But the best I can think of in this emergence is - though the proposal
be something inhospitable - that your ladyship should take presently to
horse, if your fatigue will permit. I will mount also, with some brisk
fellows, who will lodge you safe at Vale Royal, though the Sheriff
stopped the way with a whole /posse comitatus/."
The Countess of Derby willingly acquiesced in this proposal. She had
enjoyed a night's sound repose in the private chamber, to which
Ellesmere had guided her on the preceding evening, and was quite ready
to resume her route, or flight - "she scarce knew," she said, "which of
the two she should term it."
Lady Peveril wept at the necessity which seemed to hurry her earliest
friend and protectress from under her roof, at the instant when the
clouds of adversity were gathering around her; but she saw no
alternative equally safe. Nay, however strong her attachment to Lady
Derby, she could not but be more readily reconciled to her hasty
departure, when she considered the inconvenience, and even danger, in
which her presence, at such a time, and in such circumstances, was
likely to involve a man so bold and hot-tempered as her husband Sir
Geoffrey.
While Lady Peveril, therefore, made every arrangement which time
permitted and circumstances required, for the Countess prosecuting her
journey, her husband, whose spirits always rose with the prospect of
action, issued his orders to Whitaker to get together a few stout
fellows, with back and breast pieces, and steel-caps. "There are the
two lackeys, and Outram and Saunders, besides the other groom fellow,
and Roger Raine, and his son; but bid Roger not come drunk again; -
thyself, young Dick of the Dale and his servant, and a file or two of
the tenants, - we shall be enough for any force they can make. All
these are fellows that will strike hard, and ask no question why -
their hands are ever readier than their tongues, and their mouths are
more made for drinking than speaking."
Whitaker, apprised of the necessity of the case, asked if he should
not warn Sir Jasper Cranbourne.
"Not a word to him, as you live," said the Knight; "this may be an
outlawry, as they call it, for what I know; and therefore I will bring
no lands or tenements into peril, saving mine own. Sir Jasper hath had
a troublesome time of it for many a year. By my will, he shall sit
quiet for the rest of's days."
CHAPTER VII
/Fang./ - A rescue! a rescue!
/Mrs. Quickly./ - Good people, bring a rescue or two.
- Henry IV. /Part I./
The followers of Peveril were so well accustomed to the sound of "Boot
and Saddle," that they were soon mounted and in order; and in all the
form, and with some of the dignity of danger, proceeded to escort the
Countess of Derby through the hilly and desert tract of country which
connects the frontier of the shire with the neighbouring county of
Cheshire. The cavalcade moved with considerable precaution, which they
had been taught by the discipline of the Civil Wars. One wary and
well-mounted trooper rode about two hundred yards in advance;
followed, at about half that distance, by two more, with their
carabines advanced, as if ready for action. About one hundred yards
behind the advance, came the main body; where the Countess of Derby,
mounted on Lady Peveril's ambling palfrey (for her own had been
exhausted by the journey from London to Martindale Castle),
accompanied by one groom, of approved fidelity, and one waiting-maid,
was attended and guarded by the Knight of the Peak, and three files of
good and practised horsemen. In the rear came Whitaker, with Lance
Outram, as men of especial trust, to whom the covering the retreat was
confided. They rode, as the Spanish proverb expresses it, "with the
beard on the shoulder," looking around, that is, from time to time,
and using every precaution to have the speediest knowledge of any
pursuit which might take place.
But, however wise in discipline, Peveril and his followers were
somewhat remiss in civil policy. The Knight had communicated to
Whitaker, though without any apparent necessity, the precise nature of
their present expedition; and Whitaker was equally communicative to
his comrade Lance, the keeper. "It is strange enough, Master
Whitaker," said the latter, when he had heard the case, "and I wish
you, being a wise man, would expound it; - why, when we have been
wishing for the King - and praying for the King - and fighting for the
King - and dying for the King, for these twenty years, the first thing
we find to do on his return, is to get into harness to resist his
warrant?"
"Pooh! you silly fellow," said Whitaker, "that is all you know of the
true bottom of our quarrel! Why, man, we fought for the King's person
against his warrant, all along from the very beginning; for I remember
the rogues' proclamations, and so forth, always ran in the name of the
King and Parliament."
"Ay! was it even so?" replied Lance. "Nay, then, if they begin the old
game so soon again, and send out warrants in the King's name against
his loyal subjects, well fare our stout Knight, say I, who is ready to
take them down in their stocking-soles. And if Bridgenorth takes the
chase after us, I shall not be sorry to have a knock at him for one."
"Why, the man, bating he is a pestilent Roundhead and Puritan," said
Whitaker, "is no bad neighbour. What has he done to thee, man?"
"He has poached on the manor," answered the keeper.
"The devil he has!" replied Whitaker. "Thou must be jesting, Lance.
Bridgenorth is neither hunter nor hawker; he hath not so much of
honesty in him."
"Ay, but he runs after game you little think of, with his sour,
melancholy face, that would scare babes and curdle milk," answered
Lance.
"Thou canst not mean the wenches?" said Whitaker; "why, he hath been
melancholy mad with moping for the death of his wife. Thou knowest our
lady took the child, for fear he should strangle it for putting him in
mind of its mother, in some of his tantrums. Under her favour, and
among friends, there are many poor Cavaliers' children, that care
would be better bestowed upon - But to thy tale."
"Why, thus it runs," said Lance. "I think you may have noticed, Master
Whitaker, that a certain Mistress Deborah hath manifested a certain
favour for a certain person in a certain household."
"For thyself, to wit," answered Whitaker; "Lance Outram, thou art the
vainest coxcomb - - "
"Coxcomb?" said Lance; "why, 'twas but last night the whole family saw
her, as one would say, fling herself at my head."
"I would she had been a brickbat then, to have broken it, for thy
impertinence and conceit," said the steward.
"Well, but do but hearken. The next morning - that is, this very
blessed morning - I thought of going to lodge a buck in the park,
judging a bit of venison might be wanted in the larder, after
yesterday's wassail; and, as I passed under the nursery window, I did
but just look up to see what madam governante was about; and so I saw
her, through the casement, whip on her hood and scarf as soon as she
had a glimpse of me. Immediately after I saw the still-room door open,
and made sure she was coming through the garden, and so over the
breach and down to the park; and so, thought I, 'Aha, Mistress Deb, if
you are so ready to dance after my pipe and tabor, I will give you a
couranto before you shall come up with me.' And so I went down Ivy-tod
Dingle, where the copse is tangled, and the ground swampy, and round
by Haxley-bottom, thinking all the while she was following, and
laughing in my sleeve at the round I was giving her."
"You deserved to be ducked for it," said Whitaker, "for a weather-
headed puppy; but what is all this Jack-a-lantern story to
Bridgenorth?"
"Why, it was all along of he, man," continued Lance, "that is, of
Bridgenorth, that she did not follow me - Gad, I first walked slow, and
then stopped, and then turned back a little, and then began to wonder
what she had made of herself, and to think I had borne myself
something like a jackass in the matter."
"That I deny," said Whitaker, "never jackass but would have borne him
better - but go on."
"Why, turning my face towards the Castle, I went back as if I had my
nose bleeding, when just by the Copely thorn, which stands, you know,
a flight-short from the postern-gate, I saw Madam Deb in close
conference with the enemy."
"What enemy?" said the steward.
"What enemy! why, who but Bridgenorth? They kept out of sight, and
among the copse; but, thought I, it is hard if I cannot stalk you,
that have stalked so many bucks. If so, I had better give my shafts to
be pudding pins. So I cast round the thicket, to watch their waters;
and may I never bend crossbow again, if I did not see him give her
gold, and squeeze her by the hand!"
"And was that all you saw pass between them?" said the steward.
"Faith, and it was enough to dismount me from my hobby," said Lance.
"What! when I thought I had the prettiest girl in the Castle dancing
after my whistle, to find that she gave me the bag to hold, and was
smuggling in a corner with a rich old Puritan!"
"Credit me, Lance, it is not as thou thinkest," said Whitaker.
"Bridgenorth cares not for these amorous toys, and thou thinkest of
nothing else. But it is fitting our Knight should know that he has met
with Deborah in secret, and given her gold; for never Puritan gave
gold yet, but it was earnest for some devil's work done, or to be
done."
"Nay, but," said Lance, "I would not be such a dog-bolt as to go and
betray the girl to our master. She hath a right to follow her fancy,
as the dame said who kissed her cow - only I do not much approve her
choice, that is all. He cannot be six years short of fifty; and a
verjuice countenance, under the penthouse of a slouched beaver, and
bag of meagre dried bones, swaddled up in a black cloak, is no such
temptation, methinks."
"I tell you once more," said Whitaker, "you are mistaken; and that
there neither is, nor can be, any matter of love between them, but
only some intrigue, concerning, perhaps, this same noble Countess of
Derby. I tell thee, it behoves my master to know it, and I will
presently tell it to him."
So saying, and in spite of all the remonstrances which Lance continued
to make on behalf of Mistress Deborah, the steward rode up to the main
body of their little party, and mentioned to the Knight, and the
Countess of Derby, what he had just heard from the keeper, adding at
the same time his own suspicions, that Master Bridgenorth of
Moultrassie Hall was desirous to keep up some system of espial in the
Castle of Martindale, either in order to secure his menaced vengeance
on the Countess of Derby, as authoress of his brother-in-law's death,
or for some unknown, but probably sinister purpose.
The Knight of the Peak was filled with high resentment at Whitaker's
communication. According to his prejudices, those of the opposite
faction were supposed to make up by wit and intrigue what they wanted
in open force; and he now hastily conceived that his neighbour, whose
prudence he always respected, and sometimes even dreaded, was
maintaining for his private purposes, a clandestine correspondence
with a member of his family. If this was for the betrayal of his noble
guest, it argued at once treachery and presumption; or, viewing the
whole as Lance had done, a criminal intrigue with a woman so near the
person of Lady Peveril, was in itself, he deemed, a piece of sovereign
impertinence and disrespect on the part of such a person as
Bridgenorth, against whom Sir Geoffrey's anger was kindled
accordingly.
Whitaker had scarce regained his post in the rear, when he again
quitted it, and galloped to the main body with more speed than before,
with the unpleasing tidings that they were pursued by half a score of
horseman, and better.
"Ride on briskly to Hartley-nick," said the Knight, "and there, with
God to help, we will bide the knaves. - Countess of Derby - one word and
a short one - Farewell! - you must ride forward with Whitaker and
another careful fellow, and let me alone to see that no one treads on
your skirts."
"I will abide with you and stand them," said the Countess; "you know
of old, I fear not to look on man's work."
"You /must/ ride on, madam," said the Knight, "for the sake of the
young Earl, and the rest of my noble friends' family. There is no
manly work which can be worth your looking upon; it is but child's
play that these fellows bring with them."
As she yielded a reluctant consent to continue her flight, they
reached the bottom of Hartley-nick, a pass very steep and craggy, and
where the road, or rather path, which had hitherto passed over more
open ground, became pent up and confined betwixt copsewood on the one
side, and, on the other, the precipitous bank of a mountain stream.
The Countess of Derby, after an affectionate adieu to Sir Geoffrey,
and having requested him to convey her kind commendations to her
little page-elect and his mother, proceeded up the pass at a round
pace, and with her attendants and escort, was soon out of sight.
Immediately after she had disappeared, the pursuers came up with Sir
Geoffrey Peveril, who had divided and drawn up his party so as
completely to occupy the road at three different points.
The opposite party was led, as Sir Geoffrey had expected, by Major
Bridgenorth. At his side was a person in black, with a silver
greyhound on his arm; and he was followed by about eight or ten
inhabitants of the village of Martindale Moultrassie, two or three of
whom were officers of the peace, and others were personally known to
Sir Geoffrey as favourers of the subverted government.
As the party rode briskly up, Sir Geoffrey called to them to halt; and
as they continued advancing, he ordered his own people to present
their pistols and carabines; and after assuming that menacing
attitude, he repeated, with a voice of thunder, "Halt, or we fire!"
The other party halted accordingly, and Major Bridgenorth advanced, as
if to parley.
"Why, how now, neighbour," said Sir Geoffrey, as if he had at that
moment recognised him for the first time, - "what makes you ride so
sharp this morning? Are you not afraid to harm your horse, or spoil
your spurs?"
"Sir Geoffrey," said the Major, "I have not time for jesting - I'm on
the King's affairs."
"Are you sure it is not upon Old Noll's, neighbour? You used to hold
his the better errand," said the Knight, with a smile which gave
occasion to a horse-laugh among his followers.
"Show him your warrant," said Bridgenorth to the man in black formerly
mentioned, who was a pursuivant. Then taking the warrant from the
officer, he gave it to Sir Geoffrey - "To this, at least, you will pay
regard."
"The same regard which you would have paid to it a month back or so,"
said the Knight, tearing the warrant to shreds. - "What a plague do you
stare at? Do you think you have a monopoly of rebellion, and that we
have not a right to show a trick of disobedience in our turn?"
"Make way, Sir Geoffrey Peveril," said Bridgenorth, "or you will
compel me to do that I may be sorry for. I am in this matter the
avenger of the blood of one of the Lord's saints, and I will follow
the chase while Heaven grants me an arm to make my way."
"You shall make no way here but at your peril," said Sir Geoffrey;
"this is my ground - I have been harassed enough for these twenty years
by saints, as you call yourselves. I tell you, master, you shall
neither violate the security of my house, nor pursue my friends over
the grounds, nor tamper, as you have done, amongst my servants, with
impunity. I have had you in respect for certain kind doings, which I
will not either forget or deny, and you will find it difficult to make
me draw a sword or bend a pistol against you; but offer any hostile
movement, or presume to advance a foot, and I will make sure of you
presently. And for those rascals, who come hither to annoy a noble
lady on my bounds, unless you draw them off, I will presently send
some of them to the devil before their time."
"Make room at your proper peril," said Major Bridgenorth; and he put
his right hand on his holster-pistol. Sir Geoffrey closed with him
instantly, seized him by the collar, and spurred Black Hastings,
checking him at the same time, so that the horse made a courbette, and
brought the full weight of his chest against the counter of the other.
A ready soldier might, in Bridgenorth's situation, have rid himself of
his adversary with a bullet. But Bridgenorth's courage,
notwithstanding his having served some time with the Parliament army,
was rather of a civil than a military character; and he was inferior
to his adversary, not only in strength and horsemanship, but also and
especially in the daring and decisive resolution which made Sir
Geoffrey thrust himself readily into personal contest. While,
therefore, they tugged and grappled together upon terms which bore
such little accordance with their long acquaintance and close
neighbourhood, it was no wonder that Bridgenorth should be unhorsed
with much violence. While Sir Geoffrey sprung from the saddle, the
party of Bridgenorth advanced to rescue their leader, and that of the
Knight to oppose them. Swords were unsheathed, and pistols presented;
but Sir Geoffrey, with the voice of a herald, commanded both parties
to stand back, and to keep the peace.
The pursuivant took the hint, and easily found a reason for not
prosecuting a dangerous duty. "The warrant," he said, "was destroyed.
They that did it must be answerable to the Council; for his part, he
could proceed no farther without his commission."
"Well said, and like a peaceable fellow!" said Sir Geoffrey. - "Let him
have refreshment at the Castle - his nag is sorely out of condition. -
Come, neighbour Bridgenorth, get up, man - I trust you have had no hurt
in this mad affray? I was loath to lay hand on you, man, till you
plucked out your petronel."
As he spoke thus, he aided the Major to rise. The pursuivant,
meanwhile, drew aside; and with him the constable and head-borough,
who were not without some tacit suspicion, that though Peveril was
interrupting the direct course of law in this matter, yet he was
likely to have his offence considered by favourable judges; and
therefore it might be as much for their interest and safety to give
way as to oppose him. But the rest of the party, friends of
Bridgenorth, and of his principles, kept their ground notwithstanding
this defection, and seemed, from their looks, sternly determined to
rule their conduct by that of their leader, whatever it might be.
But it was evident that Bridgenorth did not intend to renew the
struggle. He shook himself rather roughly free from the hands of Sir
Geoffrey Peveril; but it was not to draw his sword. On the contrary,
he mounted his horse with a sullen and dejected air; and, making a
sign to his followers, turned back the same road which he had come.
Sir Geoffrey looked after him for some minutes. "Now, there goes a
man," said he, "who would have been a right honest fellow had he not
been a Presbyterian. But there is no heartiness about them - they can
never forgive a fair fall upon the sod - they bear malice, and that I
hate as I do a black cloak, or a Geneva skull-cap, and a pair of long
ears rising on each side on't, like two chimneys at the gable ends of
a thatched cottage. They are as sly as the devil to boot; and,
therefore, Lance Outram, take two with you, and keep after them, that
they may not turn our flank, and get on the track of the Countess
again after all."
"I had as soon they should course my lady's white tame doe," answered
Lance, in the spirit of his calling. He proceeded to execute his
master's orders by dogging Major Bridgenorth at a distance, and
observing his course from such heights as commanded the country. But
it was soon evident that no manoeuvre was intended, and that the Major
was taking the direct road homeward. When this was ascertained, Sir
Geoffrey dismissed most of his followers; and retaining only his own
domestics, rode hastily forward to overtake the Countess.
It is only necessary to say farther, that he completed his purpose of
escorting the Countess of Derby to Vale Royal, without meeting any
further hindrance by the way. The lord of the mansion readily
undertook to conduct the high-minded lady to Liverpool, and the task
of seeing her safely embarked for her son's hereditary dominions,
where there was no doubt of her remaining in personal safety until the
accusation against her for breach of the Royal Indemnity, by the
execution of Christian, could be brought to some compromise.
For a length of time this was no easy matter. Clarendon, then at the
head of Charles's administration, considered her rash action, though
dictated by motives which the human breast must, in some respects,
sympathise with, as calculated to shake the restored tranquillity of
England, by exciting the doubts and jealousies of those who had to
apprehend the consequences of what is called, in our own time, a
/reaction/. At the same time, the high services of this distinguished
family - the merits of the Countess herself - the memory of her gallant
husband - and the very peculiar circumstances of jurisdiction which
took the case out of all common rules, pleaded strongly in her favour;
and the death of Christian was at length only punished by the
imposition of a heavy fine, amounting, we believe, to many thousand
pounds; which was levied, with great difficulty, out of the shattered
estates of the young Earl of Derby.
CHAPTER VIII
My native land, good night!
- BYRON.
Lady Peveril remained in no small anxiety for several hours after her
husband and the Countess had departed from Martindale Castle; more
especially when she learned that Major Bridgenorth, concerning whose
motions she made private inquiry, had taken horse with a party, and
was gone to the westward in the same direction with Sir Geoffrey.
At length her immediate uneasiness in regard to the safety of her
husband and the Countess was removed, by the arrival of Whitaker, with
her husband's commendations, and an account of the scuffle betwixt
himself and Major Bridgenorth.
Lady Peveril shuddered to see how nearly they had approached to
renewal of the scenes of civil discord; and while she was thankful to
Heaven for her husband's immediate preservation, she could not help
feeling both regret and apprehension for the consequences of his
quarrel with Major Bridgenorth. They had now lost an old friend, who
had showed himself such under those circumstances of adversity by
which friendship is most severely tried; and she could not disguise
from herself that Bridgenorth, thus irritated, might be a troublesome,
if not a dangerous enemy. His rights as a creditor, he had hitherto
used with gentleness; but if he should employ rigour, Lady Peveril,
whose attention to domestic economy had made her much better
acquainted with her husband's affairs than he was himself, foresaw
considerable inconvenience from the measures which the law put in his
power. She comforted herself with the recollection, however, that she
had still a strong hold on Bridgenorth, through his paternal
affection, and from the fixed opinion which he had hitherto
manifested, that his daughter's health could only flourish while under
her charge. But any expectations of reconciliation which Lady Peveril
might probably have founded on this circumstance, were frustrated by
an incident which took place in the course of the following morning.
The governante, Mistress Deborah, who has been already mentioned, went
forth, as usual, with the children, to take their morning exercise in
the Park, attended by Rachael, a girl who acted occasionally as her
assistant in attending upon them. But not as usual did she return. It
was near the hour of breakfast, when Ellesmere, with an unwonted
degree of primness in her mouth and manner, came to acquaint her lady
that Mistress Deborah had not thought proper to come back from the
Park, though the breakfast hour approached so near.
"She will come, then, presently," said Lady Peveril with indifference.
Ellesmere gave a short and doubtful cough, and then proceeded to say,
that Rachael had been sent home with little Master Julian, and that
Mistress Deborah had been pleased to say, she would walk on with Miss
Bridgenorth as far as Moultrassie Holt; which was a point at which the
property of the Major, as matters now stood, bounded that of Sir
Geoffrey Peveril.
"Is the wench turned silly," exclaimed the lady, something angrily,
"that she does not obey my orders, and return at regular hours?"
"She may be turning silly," said Ellesmere mysteriously; "or she may
be turning too sly; and I think it were as well your ladyship looked
to it."
"Looked to what, Ellesmere?" said the lady impatiently. "You are
strangely oracular this morning. If you know anything to the prejudice
of this young woman, I pray you speak it out."
"I prejudice!" said Ellesmere; "I scorn to prejudice man, woman, or
child, in the way of a fellow-servant; only I wish your ladyship to
look about you, and use your own eyes - that is all."
"You bid me use my own eyes, Ellesmere; but I suspect," answered the
lady, "you would be better pleased were I contented to see through
your spectacles. I charge you - and you know I will be obeyed - I charge
you to tell me what you know or suspect about this girl, Deborah
Debbitch."
"I see through spectacles!" exclaimed the indignant Abigail; "your
ladyship will pardon me in that, for I never use them, unless a pair
that belonged to my poor mother, which I put on when your ladyship
wants your pinners curiously wrought. No woman above sixteen ever did
white-seam without barnacles. And then as to suspecting, I suspect
nothing; for as your ladyship hath taken Mistress Deborah Debbitch
from under my hand, to be sure it is neither bread nor butter of mine.
Only" (here she began to speak with her lips shut, so as scarce to
permit a sound to issue, and mincing her words as if she pinched off
the ends of them before she suffered them to escape), - "only, madam,
if Mistress Deborah goes so often of a morning to Moultrassie Holt,
why, I should not be surprised if she should never find the way back
again."
"Once more, what do you mean, Ellesmere? You were wont to have some
sense - let me know distinctly what the matter is."
"Only, madam," pursued the Abigail, "that since Bridgenorth came back
from Chesterfield, and saw you at the Castle Hall, Mistress Deborah
has been pleased to carry the children every morning to that place;
and it has so happened that she has often met the Major, as they call
him, there in his walks; for he can walk about now like other folks;
and I warrant you she hath not been the worse of the meeting - one way
at least, for she hath bought a new hood might serve yourself, madam;
but whether she hath had anything in hand besides a piece of money, no
doubt your ladyship is best judge."
Lady Peveril, who readily adopted the more good-natured construction
of the governante's motives, could not help laughing at the idea of a
man of Bridgenorth's precise appearance, strict principles, and
reserved habits, being suspected of a design of gallantry; and readily
concluded, that Mistress Deborah had found her advantage in gratifying
his parental affection by a frequent sight of his daughter during the
few days which intervened betwixt his first seeing little Alice at the
Castle, and the events which had followed. But she was somewhat
surprised, when, an hour after the usual breakfast hour, during which
neither the child nor Mistress Deborah appeared, Major Bridgenorth's
only man-servant arrived at the Castle on horseback, dressed as for a
journey; and having delivered a letter addressed to herself, and
another to Mistress Ellesmere, rode away without waiting any answer.
There would have been nothing remarkable in this, had any other person
been concerned; but Major Bridgenorth was so very quiet and orderly in
all his proceedings - so little liable to act hastily or by impulse,
that the least appearance of bustle where he was concerned, excited
surprise and curiosity.
Lady Peveril broke her letter hastily open, and found that it
contained the following lines: -
"/For the Hands of the Honourable and Honoured Lady Peveril -
These:/
"Madam - Please it your Ladyship, - I write more to excuse myself to
your ladyship, than to accuse either you or others, in respect
that I am sensible it becomes our frail nature better to confess
our own imperfections, than to complain of those of others.
Neither do I mean to speak of past times, particularly in respect
of your worthy ladyship, being sensible that if I have served you
in that period when our Israel might be called triumphant, you
have more than requited me, in giving to my arms a child,
redeemed, as it were, from the vale of the shadow of death. And
therefore, as I heartily forgive to your ladyship the unkind and
violent measure which you dealt to me at our last meeting (seeing
that the woman who was the cause of strife is accounted one of
your kindred people), I do entreat you, in like manner, to pardon
my enticing away from your service the young woman called Deborah
Debbitch, whose direction, is, it may be, indispensable to the
health of my dearest child. I had purposed, madam, with your
gracious permission, that Alice should have remained at Martindale
Castle, under your kind charge, until she could so far discern
betwixt good and evil, that it should be matter of conscience to
teach her the way in which she should go. For it is not unknown to
your ladyship, and in no way do I speak it reproachfully, but
rather sorrowfully, that a person so excellently gifted as
yourself - I mean touching natural qualities - has not yet received
that true light, which is a lamp to the paths, but are contented
to stumble in darkness, and among the graves of dead men. It has
been my prayer in the watches of the night, that your ladyship
should cease from the doctrine which causeth to err; but I grieve
to say, that our candlestick being about to be removed, the land
will most likely be involved in deeper darkness than ever; and the
return of the King, to which I and many looked forward as a
manifestation of divine favour, seems to prove little else than a
permitted triumph of the Prince of the Air, who setteth about to
restore his Vanity-fair of bishops, deans, and such like,
extruding the peaceful ministers of the word, whose labours have
proved faithful to many hungry souls. So, hearing from a sure
hand, that commission has gone forth to restore these dumb dogs,
the followers of Laud and of Williams, who were cast forth by the
late Parliament, and that an Act of Conformity, or rather of
deformity, of worship, was to be expected, it is my purpose to
flee from the wrath to come, and to seek some corner where I may
dwell in peace, and enjoy liberty of conscience. For who would
abide in the Sanctuary, after the carved work thereof is broken
down, and when it hath been made a place for owls, and satyrs of
the wilderness? - And herein I blame myself, madam, that I went in
the singleness of my heart too readily into that carousing in the
house of feasting, wherein my love of union, and my desire to show
respect to your ladyship, were made a snare to me. But I trust it
will be an atonement, that I am now about to absent myself from
the place of my birth, and the house of my fathers, as well as
from the place which holdeth the dust of those pledges of my
affection. I have also to remember, that in this land my honour
(after the worldly estimation) hath been abated, and my utility
circumscribed, by your husband, Sir Geoffrey Peveril; and that
without any chance of my obtaining reparation at his hand, whereby
I may say the hand of a kinsman was lifted up against my credit
and my life. These things are bitter to the taste of the old Adam;
wherefore to prevent farther bickerings, and, it may be,
bloodshed, it is better that I leave this land for a time. The
affairs which remain to be settled between Sir Geoffrey and
myself, I shall place in the hand of the righteous Master Joachim
Win-the-Fight, an attorney in Chester, who will arrange them with
such attention to Sir Geoffrey's convenience, as justice, and the
due exercise of the law, will permit; for, as I trust I shall
have grace to resist the temptation to make the weapons of carnal
warfare the instruments of my revenge, so I scorn to effect it
through the means of Mammon. Wishing, madam, that the Lord may
grant you every blessing, and, in especial, that which is over all
others, namely, the true knowledge of His way, I remain, your
devoted servant to command, RALPH BRIDGENORTH.
"/Written at Moultrassie Hall, this tenth
day of July, 1660./"
So soon as Lady Peveril had perused this long and singular homily, in
which it seemed to her that her neighbour showed more spirit of
religious fanaticism than she could have supposed him possessed of,
she looked up and beheld Ellesmere, - with a countenance in which
mortification, and an affected air of contempt, seemed to struggle
together, - who, tired with watching the expression of her mistress's
countenance, applied for confirmation of her suspicions in plain
terms.
"I suppose, madam," said the waiting-woman, "the fanatic fool intends
to marry the wench? They say he goes to shift the country. Truly it's
time, indeed; for, besides that the whole neighbourhood would laugh
him to scorn, I should not be surprised if Lance Outram, the keeper,
gave him a buck's head to bear; for that is all in the way of his
office."
"There is no great occasion for your spite at present, Ellesmere,"
replied her lady. "My letter says nothing of marriage; but it would
appear that Master Bridgenorth, being to leave this country, has
engaged Deborah to take care of his child; and I am sure I am heartily
glad of it, for the infant's sake."
"And I am glad of it for my own," said Ellesmere; "and, indeed, for
the sake of the whole house. - And your ladyship thinks she is not like
to be married to him? Troth, I could never see how he should be such
an idiot; but perhaps she is going to do worse; for she speaks here of
coming to high preferment, and that scarce comes by honest servitude
nowadays; then she writes me about sending her things, as if I were
mistress of the wardrobe to her ladyship - ay, and recommends Master
Julian to the care of my age and experience, forsooth, as if she
needed to recommend the dear little jewel to me; and then, to speak of
my age - But I will bundle away her rags to the Hall, with a witness!"
"Do it with all civility," said the lady, "and let Whitaker send her
the wages for which she has served, and a broad-piece over and above;
for though a light-headed young woman, she was kind to the children."
"I know who is kind to their servants, madam, and would spoil the best
ever pinned a gown."
"I spoiled a good one, Ellesmere, when I spoiled thee," said the lady;
"but tell Mistress Deborah to kiss the little Alice for me, and to
offer my good wishes to Major Bridgenorth, for his temporal and future
happiness."
She permitted no observation or reply, but dismissed her attendant,
without entering into farther particulars.
When Ellesmere had withdrawn, Lady Peveril began to reflect, with much
feeling of compassion, on the letter of Major Bridgenorth; a person in
whom there were certainly many excellent qualities, but whom a series
of domestic misfortunes, and the increasing gloom of a sincere, yet
stern feeling of devotion, rendered lonely and unhappy; and she had
more than one anxious thought for the happiness of the little Alice,
brought up, as she was likely to be, under such a father. Still the
removal of Bridgenorth was, on the whole, a desirable event; for while
he remained at the Hall, it was but too likely that some accidental
collision with Sir Geoffrey might give rise to a rencontre betwixt
them, more fatal than the last had been.
In the meanwhile, she could not help expressing to Doctor Dummerar her
surprise and sorrow, that all which she had done and attempted, to
establish peace and unanimity betwixt the contending factions, had
been perversely fated to turn out the very reverse of what she had
aimed at.
"But for my unhappy invitation," she said, "Bridgenorth would not have
been at the Castle on the morning which succeeded the feast, would not
have seen the Countess, and would not have incurred the resentment and
opposition of my husband. And but for the King's return, an event
which was so anxiously expected as the termination of all our
calamities, neither the noble lady nor ourselves had been engaged in
this new path of difficulty and danger."
"Honoured madam," said Doctor Dummerar, "were the affairs of this
world to be guided implicitly by human wisdom, or were they uniformly
to fall out according to the conjectures of human foresight, events
would no longer be under the domination of that time and chance, which
happen unto all men, since we should, in the one case, work out our
own purposes to a certainty, by our own skill, and in the other,
regulate our conduct according to the views of unerring prescience.
But man is, while in this vale of tears, like an uninstructed bowler,
so to speak, who thinks to attain the jack, by delivering his bowl
straight forward upon it, being ignorant that there is a concealed
bias within the spheroid, which will make it, in all probability,
swerve away, and lose the cast."
Having spoken this with a sententious air, the Doctor took his shovel-
shaped hat, and went down to the Castle green, to conclude a match of
bowls with Whitaker, which had probably suggested this notable
illustration of the uncertain course of human events.
Two days afterwards, Sir Geoffrey arrived. He had waited at Vale Royal
till he heard of the Countess's being safely embarked for Man, and
then had posted homeward to his Castle and Dame Margaret. On his way,
he learned from some of his attendants, the mode in which his lady had
conducted the entertainment which she had given to the neighbourhood
at his order; and notwithstanding the great deference he usually
showed in cases where Lady Peveril was concerned, he heard of her
liberality towards the Presbyterian party with great indignation.
"I could have admitted Bridgenorth," he said, "for he always bore him
in neighbourly and kindly fashion till this last career - I could have