Hayslope Grange Part 5

Maud was quite incapable of understanding this self-pity, and seating herself at the little table by the window, she indulged her own self-reproachful thoughts on her conduct of the morning. She had no idea then that his father had treated him so harshly, or she would have been more tender, and her heart was sad as she thought of his words, that he must be true to his conscience.

But her musing was broken in upon by Mary saying, "It is so wicked, so wilful, to rebel against the King."

"But suppose he had to do this, or rebel against his conscience," said Maud, giving some expression to her own thoughts.

Mary started. "What can you mean? prithee, it cannot be right for us to rebel against the King?"

"Certainly not for us," said Maud. "But we are not to make ourselves a conscience to other people; and if Harry sees that serving the King would be wrong----"

"But it cannot be wrong," interrupted Mary. "G.o.d's Word says, 'Fear G.o.d, honour the king.'"

"Yes, fearing G.o.d comes first," said Maud, but speaking more to herself than to Mary; "and it seems to me that it is out of this fear Harry has been led to adopt these new views. I can't see how they are right; but then I suppose living here in this quiet village, and having everything we want, we do not understand things as men do who go out into the world and learn what Acts of Parliament mean."

"Maud, you are half a traitor yourself," interrupted Mary, indignantly.

"Nay, nay, Mary! I am not that," said Maud. "I love the King, from what I have heard of his gentle courteous bearing and his loving care of his children; but even Master Drury denies not that he has oft-times broken his solemn promise, and 'tis said that his subsidies and exactions have well nigh ruined the nation."

"Maud, Maud! said I not that you were a traitor; and by my troth you must be, to speak thus of the King."

"Nay, I am no traitor. I would that I could speak to King Charles myself, and tell him how sorely grieved many of his subjects are at his want of truth and honest dealing," replied Maud, warmly.

"But the King cannot do evil," said Mary, in a tone of expostulation.

Maud put her hand to her forehead in some perplexity. "I know not what to think, sometimes," she said. "I like not to think it possible that the King can do wrong; but what am I to think when he breaks the Divine laws of truth and uprightness. He is not above these, if he is above those of the land, that he can make and unmake at his will."

"We have no business to think about such things at all," said Mary, impatiently.

"Marry, you may be right," answered Maud; "for women-folk have but little wit to the understanding of such weighty matters; but for men it is different, and that is why so many are carried away to the defending this rebellious Parliament, I trow."

"But they should not be carried away, now that they know how evil are its doings, and how it has laid violent hands on the Archbishop; and herein is Harry's sin the greater."

"Oh, say not so, Mary. Harry is right, I trow, although you and I see not how that may be," said Maud.

At this moment there was a knock at the door, and Bessie's tearful face appeared. Mistress Mabel had found it impossible to settle down to her usual spinning to-day, and telling the children she must look after the maids, to see they did not get gossiping about the family affairs, she had dismissed them.

"Oh, Maud, I have no brother Harry now," sobbed the little girl, throwing herself into her arms.

"But Harry is not dead," said Maud, smoothing back the tumbled hair from her hot forehead. "He has only gone away from home, and you can love him still."

"That's what Bertram says," sobbed the child; "but it isn't just the same; he was my brother before--my very own, and now"--and she burst into another pa.s.sionate flood of tears.

"Prithee, now hush," said Maud. "Harry loves you all the same, I am sure, and you can love him; so that it need make no difference to you, Bessie."

"But it does make a difference," pa.s.sionately exclaimed Bessie. "You said it did a little while ago."

Maud had forgotten the circ.u.mstance to which the girl referred, until she went on--"You said Harry was not your real brother, and now I am not his real sister. Has Harry got another name?" she suddenly asked.

Maud smiled, but Mary shook her head sorrowfully. "No, his name is Drury still," she said, "and he has disgraced it, Bessie--disgraced the good old name that you and I bear."

Bessie looked at Maud. "Are you glad your name is not Drury?" she said.

Maud shook her head. "I wish it was," she said, "and then I could make you understand better that I do not think Harry has disgraced it."

"Then it can be, can't it?" said Bessie, drying her tears.

"What, dear?"

"Drury. You can change your name, can't you?"

A momentary blush overspread Maud's pale face, but it quickly faded, and a sadder look than ever came into her eyes as she shook her head and said, "No, dear, I shall never change my name now." Then, seeing that her sadness had brought back the tears to Bessie's eyes, she asked where Bertram had gone.

"To look after Harry's horse," answered Bessie. "Aunt Mabel says it is to be his, now; but Bertram says he will never ride it, for it will be like robbing Harry."

"Suppose we go and look at Cavalier, too," said Maud. "He will miss his master almost as much as you do, Bessie," she added, trying to speak cheerfully.

They went through the painted gallery and out of the side door, as Harry went in the morning, the little girl wondering why they went that way.

Bertram had sobbed out the first portion of his grief to his brother's dumb favourite, and now stood stroking its silky chestnut coat; but as Maud entered the paddock the n.o.ble creature p.r.i.c.ked up its ears and gave a pleased whining of recognition.

"It is not Harry, Cavalier," said Bertram, sadly.

"Prithee, Cavalier is almost as fond of Maud as he is of Harry," said Bessie.

"Oh, Maud, then you have him," said Bertram, with a fresh burst of tears. "He is mine now, Aunt Mabel says; but I shall never be able to ride him, for thinking of Harry; but he'll like to have you on his back, and Harry will like it too, I know."

That Harry would like it Maud knew full well, but the appropriation of his things in this way she did not approve of at all; but Bertram's next words settled the matter.

"Aunt Mabel says Cavalier shall be sold, and a pony bought for me, if I don't like it; and I can't bear to part with Cavalier," sobbed the little boy.

"We won't part with it, Bertie," said Maud. "I will have Cavalier, and ride him every day, and I will buy you a pony instead, and you can ride with me."

Mistress Maud Harcourt possessed the sole right to a large fortune, and so she could do as she pleased in such a small matter as keeping a horse for her individual use. Mistress Mabel grumbled a little when she heard of this arrangement, but it did not alter matters, and in a few days Bertram's pony arrived.

CHAPTER VI.

THE HAYSLOPE WITCH.

There had never been much communication between the villagers of Hayslope and the family living at the Grange. Mistress Mabel believed that the villagers existed solely for the convenience of the family, but never troubled herself to consider their wants or necessities, and brought up her niece Mary upon the same principle. Maud appeared to be of a similar opinion; but sharing Harry's confidence in everything, she knew he went about among his poorer neighbours, and began to take an interest in them herself, although not very actively.

Now, however, she determined to follow Harry's example, and take up his work; and, mounted on Cavalier, she went out the very next day to make inquiries after an old woman whom she knew Harry had often befriended.

She inquired at the blacksmith's shed for Dame Coppins, but was surprised by the man coming to the door, and instead of pointing out the way to the cottage, saying, "We'll do it, Mistress Harcourt! We'll have justice on the old witch that's done the mischief!"

"What mischief?" asked Maud, in some surprise, patting Cavalier to make him stand still.

"What mischief should it be but sending away Master Harry Drury to the Parliament wars, as though the king hadn't had enough of the lads from Hayslope?"