Robin Tremayne Part 49

"They may have something from King Henry's," answered John.

"Jack, thou deservest--I cannot stay to tell thee what: and I have shouted and danced myself an hungered. Mrs Avery, have you to spare of that goodly round of beef?"

"Pray you, sit down with us, Mr Ferris," said she; "we shall not lack a s.h.i.+ve for you."

"Ah, but if I lack half-a-dozen s.h.i.+ves, how then?" said he.

"Sit down, man," responded John. "Why, George Ferris! you are in a fever!"

"Pretty nigh," answered he. "Is there any man in London out of one this morrow?--except you."

"I am too thankful to be merry," he replied. "But how goes it with Cardinal Pole?"

"His death is hourly looked for," said Mr Ferris.

That afternoon, at the Cross and other places, was Queen Elizabeth proclaimed. Even by night men scarcely seemed to have cooled down: so glad was England of her Protestant Queen, so freely she breathed when the hand of the oppressor was withdrawn. In the afternoon of Friday died Cardinal Pole, outliving his cousin Queen Mary only twenty-four hours. John reported that the very faces he met in the streets looked freer and gladder, as if every man were now at his ease and king of himself. Now, he thought, or, at the farthest, when the Queen was crowned, would the prisons be opened. Who would come out of them?--was a very anxious question; and yet more, Who would not come? That day Marguerite wrote to Mr Rose, by Austin, who set out immediately to carry the news to the banished Gospellers; and they looked forward hopefully to seeing him ere long [Note 6]. Might they look, with any thing like hope, to see another? Their judgment had given up hope long ago. But the heart will hope, even against all, until it knows a.s.suredly that there can be hope no longer.

"Isoult," said her husband, when he came home in the evening, "I have heard tidings that methinks shall make thee a little sorry."

"What be they, Jack?" said she.

"The death of Mr James Ba.s.set," he answered, "yestereven."

Isoult wrote a little loving note to Philippa; but she heard nothing from her.

Again on the 28th was all London in a ferment of eager joy: for the Queen came to the Tower, in readiness for her coronation. She came from the Charter House, sitting in a rich chariot, arrayed in a riding-dress of purple velvet, and a scarf tied over her shoulder. All London Wall was hung with tapestry; and beside her rode Lord Robert Dudley, who had been made Master of the Horse.

"Lack-a-daisy!" said Dr Thorpe, "must we be ridden with Dudleys yet again? Is the quotidian ague throughout England all this autumn not plague enough, that my Lord Robin Dudley must needs bear the bell? A fig for all the Dudleys--nor are they worth that!"

On the 4th of December the Queen went through the City to Somerset House. Some trouble was feared concerning her coronation. The Archbishop of York and all the Popish Bishops refused to crown her; nor would they consecrate any not of their way of thinking. Thirteen Bishops had died of the pestilence; but not Dr Bonner, to whom (alone of all of them) Elizabeth refused her hand to kiss when they met her in progress. How differently this year had closed from the last! The Gospellers looked back, indeed, with trembling, yet with great thankfulness; and there was no need to look forward (but for one thing) save with hope. They must know soon now the fate of the missing one.

At least the waiting and fearing would be over. The knowledge might leave their hearts sick; yet, even at the worst, it would be no longer with hope deferred.

Note 1. An interesting notice of George s.h.i.+pside, husband of Alice Ridley, with an account of his Bible annotated by himself, will be found in the _Sunday at Home_, 1871, page 789 _et seq_.

Note 2. Spanish Sovereigns sign in a manner peculiar to themselves, not by the Christian name, but "I the King," or "I the Queen."

Note 3. With the exception of a few minor details, chiefly relating to others than herself, this account of Queen Juana's gradual martyrdom is strictly true.

Note 4. He died February 15, 1557, at "Sir Harry Sydney's house, Chanon Roo, Westminster" (Harl. Ms. 897, folio 79).

Note 5. This old English word for _party_ we have so utterly lost, that we fancy it a new one recently introduced from America.

Note 6. It might have been expected that the banished or escaped Protestants would wait to see the line which Elizabeth's policy would take before venturing to return: but no such misgivings troubled their minds. So perfect was their confidence in her, that they flocked home like doves to their windows.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

POST TENEBRAS LUX.

"So," prayed we, "when our feet draw near The river dark with mortal fear, And the night cometh, chill with dew, O Father, let Thy light break through!

So let the hills of doubt divide-- So bridge with faith the sunless tide-- So let the eyes that fail on earth On Thine eternal hills look forth; And, in Thy beckoning angels, know The dear ones whom we loved below."

Whittier.

This eventful year closed with death. Not a martyr death; G.o.d's martyr train was closed in England now, for the last to join it had been Roger Holland. Another kind of death was this. Softly, and tenderly, as He called to Samuel, the Lord came and stood and called her--her who was loved so dearly, whose going out made the world darker. With a "_Talitha c.u.mi_"--a "Come up higher"--He summoned the beloved to the Home where His beloved dwell with Him. And what answer was left for her but "Lord, here am I"? So she spread the angel wings which had been folded, that they could not be seen; and as she soared gladly up into the heavenly light, the darkness of time and of earth thickened around those she left behind.

O Lord our Master! Thy voice is very sweet here below. Not only Thy staff, but even Thy rod comforteth; yea, it is with Thy rod that Thou dost feed Thy people. How much sweeter, when as one whom his mother comforteth, so dost Thou comfort us! And sweetest of all it must be, to arise and _go to_ Thee.

Wherefore, then, are we so unwilling? What mean we continually to talk of being "spared"--spared from that happy journey, from that heavenly Home! They that are not journeying home are spared indeed: but how faithless, how loveless is it in us to bring up an evil report of the good Land, to show such fear and distance from the forgiving and welcoming Father!

"He that is washed needeth only to wash his feet." But, O our Father!

the feet of Thy children need a perpetual was.h.i.+ng, an hourly dipping in the blessed waters of the Fountain which Thou hast opened for sin and for uncleanness.

This was the last entry in Isoult Avery's diary for the year 1558:--

"The Minories, Saint Stephen.

"'G.o.d knoweth best when His corn is ripe.'

"I have been told this to-day, and I need remember it this even.

Otherwise, methinks a shower of tears should blot out my writing. I thought that sheaf could be no riper, years ago. The storms had beaten on it, but had not hurt it, and it was very fair; and now it lacked but a season of suns.h.i.+ne, and to that I looked forward in hope. How little did I know that the suns.h.i.+ne was but making it ready for the harvest, meet for Heaven, nearer G.o.d!

"O my love, my own darling Frances! shall I say it is hard to think of you in Heaven? Shall I say it is hard that, in the stead of your coming to me, I must now go to you? Shall I grieve in the first hour of my hope and England's, that G.o.d saw it best to take you gently to Himself, ere that hope could do more than to throw the beam of his rising on your dying pillow?

"You have seen your beloved father, my dear master. And I do not think he told you that the Lord dealt ungently with him."

Four hours earlier, as I was sewing in my chamber, Barbara came to me.

"Mistress," said she, "below is Mrs Ba.s.set, and with her two ladies in doole."

Methought these might perhaps be the Lady Elizabeth Jobson and Mr James Ba.s.set's widow, whom she had brought with her; and down went I to greet Philippa. But I found the two ladies were strangers; at the least I knew not their faces. I greeted Philippa, and sat down, when I had louted to the others; but to mine amaze one of the ladies saith--

"Mrs Avery, have you forgot Kate Ashley?"

I rose in astonishment, and begged my Lady Ashley's pardon, for of a surety I had not known her. So I took her by the hand and kissed her; and was about to sit down again, when, with a smile that I could scarce fail to know, the other stranger saith--

"And hath Isoult Barry forgot Anne Ba.s.set?"

"My darling Nan!" cried I, "that I should not have known _thee_."

"Nay," saith she, again with her own sweet smile, "'tis no marvel, dear heart, seeing thou hast not seen me for sixteen years." For I had missed seeing her in the procession at Queen Mary's coronation.

Then after we had embraced, Philippa said--

"I scantly know, Isoult, if thou wilt be glad to see us, considering the ill news we bring."