The King's Daughters Part 40

"Right, friend, 'Faithful in a little, faithful also in much.' Dorothy, you'd have made a good martyr."

"Me, Master?"

Mr Ewring smiled. "Well, whether shall it be to-morrow, or leave over Sunday?"

"If it liked you, Master, I would say to-morrow. Poor little dears!

they'll be so pleased to come back to their friends. I can be ready for them--I'll work early and late but I will. Did you think of taking the little lad yourself, or are they all to bide with me?"

"I'll take him the minute he's old enough, and no more needs a woman's hand about him. You know, Dorothy, there be no woman in mine house-- now."

"Well, he'll scarce be that yet, I reckon. Howbeit, the first thing is to fetch 'em. Master, when think you Mistress shall be let go?"

"It is hard to say, Dorothy, for we've heard so little. But if she be in the Bishop of London's keeping, as she was, I cast no doubt she shall be delivered early. Doubtless all the bishops that refuse to conform shall be deprived: and he will not conform, without he be a greater rogue than I think."

There was something of the spirit of the earliest Christians when they had all things common, in the matter-of-course way in which it was understood on both sides that each was ready to take charge, at any sacrifice of time, money, or ease, of children who had been left fatherless by martyrdom.

Early the next morning, the miller's cart drew up before the door of the King's Head, and Dorothy, hooded and cloaked, with a round basket on her arm, was quite ready to get in. The drive to Hedingham was pleasant enough, cold as the weather was; and at last they reached the barred gate of the convent. Dorothy alighted from the cart.

"I'll see you let in, Dorothy, ere I leave you," said he, "if indeed I have to leave you at all. I should never marvel if they brought the children forth, and were earnest to be rid of them at once."

It did not seem like it, however, for several knocks were necessary before the wicket unclosed. The portress looked relieved when she saw who was there.

"What would you?" asked she.

Mr Ewring had given Dorothy advice how to proceed.

"An' it like you, might I see the children? Cicely Johnson and the little ones."

"Come within," said the portress, "and I will inquire."

This appeared more promising. Dorothy was led to the guest-chamber, and was not kept waiting. Only a few minutes had elapsed when the Prioress herself appeared.

"You wish to see the children?" she said.

"I wish to take them with me, if you please," answered Dorothy audaciously. "I look for my mistress back shortly, and she was aforetime desirous to bring them up. I will take the full charge of them, with your leave."

"Truly, and my leave you shall have. We shall be right glad to be rid of the charge, for a heavy one it has been, and a wearisome. A more obstinate, perverse, ungovernable maid than Cicely never came in my hands."

"Thank the Lord!" said Dorothy.

"Poor creatures!" said the Prioress. "I suppose you will do your best to undo our teaching, and their souls will be lost. Howbeit, we were little like to have saved them. And it will be well, now for the community that they should go. Wait, and I will send them to you."

Dorothy waited half-an-hour. At the end of that time a door opened in the wainscot, which she had not known was there, and a tall, pale, slender girl of eleven, looking older than she was, came forward.

"Dorothy Denny!" said Cissy's unchanged voice, in tones of unmistakable delight. "Oh, they didn't tell me who it was! Are we to go with _you_?--back to Colchester? Has something happened? Do tell me what is going to become of us."

"My dear heart, peace and happiness, if it please the Lord. Master Ewring and I have come to fetch you all. The Queen is departed to G.o.d, and the Lady Elizabeth is now Queen; and the nuns are ready enough to be rid of you. If my dear mistress come home safe--as please G.o.d, she shall--you shall be all her children, and Master Ewring hath offered to take Will when he be old enough, and learn him his trade. Your troubles be over, I trust the Lord, for some while."

"It's just in time!" said Cissy with a gasp of relief. "Oh, how wicked I have been, not to trust G.o.d better! and He was getting this ready for us all the while!"

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

WHAT THEY FOUND AT THE KING'S HEAD.

Mr Ewring had stayed at the gate, guessing that Dorothy would not be long in fulfilling her errand. He cast the reins on the neck of his old bay horse, and allowed it to crop the gra.s.s while he waited. Many a short prayer for the success of the journey went up as he sat there. At last the gate was opened, and a boy of seven years old bounded out of it and ran up to the cart.

"Master Ewring, is that you? I'm glad to see you. We're all coming.

Is that old Tim?"

"That's old Tim, be sure," said the miller. "Pat him, Will, and then give me your hand and make a long jump."

Will obeyed, just as the gate opened again, and Dorothy came out of it with the two little girls. Little Nell--no longer Baby--could walk now, and chatter too, though few except Cissy understood what she said. She talked away in a very lively manner, until Dorothy lifted her into the cart, when the sight of Mr Ewring seemed to exert a paralysing effect upon her, nor was she rea.s.sured at once by his smile.

"Dear heart, but it 'll be a close fit!" said Dorothy. "How be we to pack ourselves?"

"Cissy must sit betwixt us," answered the miller; "she's not quite so fat as a sack of flour. Take the little one on your knees, Dorothy; and Will shall come in front of me, and take his first lesson in driving Tim."

They settled themselves accordingly, Will being highly delighted at his promotion.

"Well, I reckon you are not sorry to be forth of that place?" suggested Mr Ewring.

"Oh, so glad!" said Cissy, under her breath.

"And how hath Will stood out?" was the next question, which produced profound silence for a few seconds. Then Will broke forth.

"I haven't, Master Ewring--at least, it's Cissy's doing, and she's had hard work to make me stick. I should have given up ever so many times if she'd have let me. I didn't think I could stand it much longer, and it was only last night I told her so, and she begged and prayed me to hold on."

"That's an honest lad," said Mr Ewring.

"And that's a dear maid," added Dorothy.

"Then Cissy stood out, did she?"

"Cissy! eh, they'd never have got _her_ to kneel down to their ugly images, not if they'd cut her head off for it. She's just like a stone wall. Nell did, till Cissy got hold of her and told her not; but she didn't know what it meant, so I hope it wasn't wicked. You see, she's so little, and she forgets what is said to her."

"Ay, ay; poor little dear!" said Dorothy. "And what did they to you, my poor dears, when you wouldn't?"

"Oh, lots of things," said Will. "Beat us sometimes, and shut us in dark cupboards, and sent us to bed without supper. One night they made Cissy--"

"Never mind, Will," said Cissy blus.h.i.+ng.

"But they'd better know," said Will stoutly. "They made Cissy kneel all night on the floor of the dormitory, tied to a bed-post. They said if she wouldn't kneel to the saint, she should kneel without it. And Sister Mary asked her how she liked saying her prayers to the moon."

"Cruel, hard-hearted wretches!" exclaimed Dorothy.

"Then they used to keep us several hours without anything to eat, and at the end of it they would hold out something uncommon good, and just when we were going to take it they'd s.n.a.t.c.h it away."