The King's Daughters Part 15

"Then, in very deed, we heard nought," said Rose. "I do trust it shall prove but an ill rumour."

"May it be so! yet I cannot but fear it be true. Robin Purcas came to me last night, and I could not but think he should have told me somewhat an' he might: but he found Father Tye in mine house, and might not speak. They both tarried so long," added Johnson, with a laugh, "that I was fain to marvel if each were essaying to outsit the other; but if so, Father Tye won, for Love of the Heath came for Robin and took him away ere the priest were wearied out. If any straitness do arise against the Gospellers, Love had best look out."

"Ay, they know him too well to leave him slip through their fingers again," replied Rose.

"That do they, verily. Well, dear hearts, and have ye been good children?"

"We've tried," said Cissy.

"They've been as good as could be," answered Rose.

"Father, did anybody come and see to you? I asked the Lord to see to it, because I knew you'd miss me sore," said Cissy anxiously, "and I want to know if He did."

"Ay, my dear heart," replied Johnson, smiling as he looked down on her.

"Ursula Felstede came in and dressed dinner for me, and Margaret Thurston looked in after, and she washed some matters and did a bit of mending; and at after I had company--Father Tye, and Robin Purcas, and Jack Love. So thou seest I was not right lonesome."

"He took good care of you. Father," said Cissy, looking happy. It was evident that Cissy lived for and in her father. Whatever he was, for good or evil, that she was likewise.

"Well, I've got to look in on Margaret Thurston," said Rose, "for I did a bit of marketing for her this morrow in the town, and I have a fardel to leave. She was not at home when we pa.s.sed, coming. But now, I think I'd better be on my way, so I'll wish you good den, Johnson. G.o.d bless you, little ones!"

"Good den, Rose!" said Cissy. "And you'll learn me to weave lace with those pretty bobbins?"

"That will I, with a very good will, sweet heart," said Rose, stooping to kiss Cissy.

"Weave lace!" commented her father. "What, what is the child thinking, that she would fain learn to weave lace?"

"Oh, Father, please, you won't say nay!" pleaded Cissy, embracing her father's arm with both her own. "I want to bring you in some money."

Cissy spoke with a most important air. "You know, of an even, I alway have a bit of time, after Will and Baby be abed, and at times too in the day, when Will's out with George Felstede, and I'm minding Baby; I can rock her with my feet while I make lace with my hands. And you know, Father, Will and Baby 'll be growing big by and bye, and you won't have enough for us all without we do something. And Rose says she'll learn me how, and that if I have a lace pillow--and it won't cost very much, Father!--I can alway take it up for a few minutes by nows and thens, when I have a bit of time, and then, don't you see, Father? I can make a little money for you. Please, _please_ don't say I mustn't!" cried Cissy, growing quite talkative in her eagerness.

Johnson and Rose looked at each other, and Rose laughed; but though Cissy's father smiled too, he soon grew grave, and laid his hand on his little girl's head, as she stood looking up earnestly.

"Nay, my little maid, I'll never say nought of the sort. If Rose here will be so good as to learn thee aught that is good, whether for body or soul, I will be truly thankful to her, and bid thee do the like and be diligent to learn. Good little maid! G.o.d bless thee!"

Then, as Cissy trotted into the cottage, well pleased, Johnson added, "Bless the little maid's heart! she grows more like her mother in Heaven every day. I'll never stay the little fingers from doing what they can.

It'll not bring much in, I reckon, but it'll be a pleasure to the child, and good for her to be ever busy at something, that she mayn't fall into idle ways. Think you not so, Rose?"

"Indeed, and it so will, Johnson," answered Rose; "not that I think Cissy and idle ways 'll ever have much to do one with the other. She's not one of that sort. But I shouldn't wonder if lace-weaving brings in more than you think. I've made a pretty penny of it, and I wasn't so young as Cissy when I learned the work, and it's like everything else-- them that begin young have the best chance to make good workers. She'll be a rare comfort to you, Cissy, if she goes on as she's begun."

Johnson did not reply for a moment. When he did, it was to say, "Well, G.o.d keep us all! I'm right thankful to you, Rose, for all your goodness to my little maid. Good den!"

When she had returned the "good evening," Rose set off home, and walked rather fast till she came to Margaret Thurston's cottage. After the little business was transacted between her and Margaret, Rose inquired if they had heard of Mistress Silverside's arrest. Both Margaret and her husband seemed thunderstruck.

"Nay, we know nought thereof," answered Thurston, "Pray G.o.d it be not true! There'll be more an' it so be."

"I fear so much," said Rose.

She did not tell her mother, for Alice had not been well lately, and Rose wished to spare her an apprehension which might turn out to be quite unfounded, or at least exaggerated. But she told her step-father, and old Mount looked very grave.

"G.o.d grant it be not so!" said he. "But if it be, Rose, thou wist they have our names in their black list of heretics."

"Ay, Father, I know they have."

"G.o.d keep us all!" said William Mount, looking earnestly into the fire.

And Rose knew that while he might intend to include being kept safe, yet he meant, far more than that, being kept true.

When John Love called at Johnson's cottage to fetch Robert Purcas, the two walked about a hundred yards on the way to Bentley without either speaking a word. Then Robert suddenly stopped. "Look you, Love! what would you with me? I cannot go far from Thorpe to-night. I was sent with a message to Johnson, and I have not found a chance to deliver it yet."

"Must it be to-night? and what chance look you for?"

"Ay, it must!" answered Robert earnestly. "What I look for is yon black snake coming out of his hole, and then slip I in and deliver my message."

Love nodded. He knew well enough who the black snake was. "Then maybe you came with the like word I did. Was it to warn Johnson to 'scape ere the Bailiff should be on him?"

"Ay, it was. And you?"

"I came to the same end, but not alone for Johnson. Robin, thou hadst best see to thyself. Dost know thou art on the black list."

"I've looked for that, this many a day. But so art thou, Love; and thou hast a wife to care for, and I've none."

"I'm in danger anyway, Rob, but there's a chance for thee. Think of thy old father, and haste thee, lad."

Robert shook his head. "I promised to warn Johnson," he said; "and I gave my word for it to one that I love right dearly. I'll not break my word. No, Love; I tarry here till I've seen him. The Lord must have a care of my old father if they take me."

Love found it impossible to move Robert from his resolution. He bade him good-night and turned away.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

WHAT BEFELL SOME OF THEM.

For half-an-hour, safely hidden behind a hedge, Robert Purcas watched the door of Johnson's cottage, until at last he saw the priest come out, and go up the lane for a short distance. Then he stopped, looked round, and gave a low, peculiar whistle. A man jumped down from the bank on the other side of the lane, with whom the priest held a long, low-toned conversation. Robert knew he could not safely move before they were out of the way. At length they parted, and he just caught the priest's final words.

"Good: we shall have them all afore the even."

"That you shall not, if G.o.d speed me!" said Robert to himself.

The priest went up the lane towards Bentley, and the man who had been talking with him took the opposite way to Thorpe. When his footsteps had died away, Robert crept out from the shelter of the hedge, and made his way in the dark to Johnson's cottage. A rap on the door brought Cissy.

"Who is it, please?" she said, "because I can't see."

"It is Robin Purcas, Cis. I want a word with thy father."

"Come in, Robin!" called Johnson's voice from within. "I could see thou wert bursting with some news not to be spoken in the presence but just gone. What ails thee, man?"

"Ay, I was, and I promised to tell you. Jack, thou must win away ere daylight, or the Bailiff shall be on thee. Set these little ones in safe guard, and hie thee away with all the speed thou mayest."

"Is it come so near?" said Johnson, gravely.