CHAPTER XXIII.Waiting for the Dawn.Twenty years have passed since a boy and girl walked sadly side by side on the banks of the Thames one sweet spring evening. It is autumn now, and the slanting rays of a setting sun are gilding the vine-clad hills of the Rhine. The castles which in these days delight the traveller by their picturesque ruins, were, at the time of which we are speaking, in their glory, and frowned down on the peaceful water from many a lofty summit.The peasants are gathering in the vintage, and yonder, slowly climbing the hill toward a great building, whose turrets, catching the latest beams, seem burnished with gold, is a heavy cart laden with the rich purple clusters, and surrounded by a group of women and children, who are urging on the patient oxen with shouts and songs.This has been a wonderfully abundant year. The great granaries of the owner of the valley are bursting with corn, and the vines are bending with their luscious load. Nor is there one who does not rejoice in their master's prosperity; for far and near, high and low, all love and honor the baron of Arnstein--Geoffrey the Good.It is true that some say he is only an adventurer, who had landed a penniless exile on their shores, and who owed all his present fortune to his sword and his sovereign's favor; but none dare say that his wealth and power have not been fairly and nobly won, and generously and justly used. He had not gone far in the path of military glory and ambition; but soon quitting the court and the field, he he had settled down on his estate, and contented himself with governing his people, and attending to their welfare.The vintage-cart has mounted higher and higher, and now it has turned into a court, and is depositing its load. Farther on, in an inner court, where a porch opens into the great castle-hall, stands the lord and master; and the peasants pay him their respects with many an awkward but sincere reverence.He is a fine, hale, sunburnt man. A few silver hairs are to be seen in his dark curls and heavy beard; but his martial air and stalwart form proclaim him in the prime of life. He is leaning with one shoulder against the doorway, and the other arm is thrown round a rosy little lady, very matronly in her cap and plaited kerchief, but showing, in her twinkling eyes and dimpled mouth, much of the roguish spirit which characterized the Lady Katharine Hyde of yore. She looks rather too stout and portly to flit about by night as a convent ghost; but it will be very wonderful if that small image of her, now engaged in teasing an old wolf-hound, should arrive at the age of discretion without some mischievous adventure.A little farther on, in an arm-chair, so placed that the sunbeams light up his bent figure, and glisten in his snow-white hair, making it seem like a halo of glory about his head, sits a very old man. He is tracing with his stick letters in the sand; while a boy, some six or seven years old, is pronouncing their names, giving a scream of joy every time he finds, by the old man's smile, that he is right."Hubert," says his father's cheerful voice, "Father Paul will let you leave your lesson now. Run and meet uncle Guy; he is coming up the hill."Away runs the boy right joyously, his sister not so far behind; and when they return, little Eleanor is seated on a tall horse, in front of a young man in student's dress, and Hubert is leading the horse by the bridle.Young Guy had joined his brother and sister after his mother's death, and was now making rapid progress toward distinction in a German college. His frank manners and bright, merry face make him a welcome everywhere, and the children receive him with joyful shouts."My new pony is to come home to-morrow, uncle Guy!" says little Eleanor, jumping up and down with glee, for he has dismounted himself and her, and is greeting her parents. "Gerhard is to train him for me, and I mean to call him Rollo, after the horse you were riding when papa and mamma came out of prison.""Uncle Guy!" says Hubert, in a lower but no less eager tone, his face crimsoned with delight, "Father Paul says I know all my letters now, and to-morrow I am to begin in Papa's big book!""I am glad to hear that, my boy," Sir Guy says kindly; "we will have you at Wittemberg soon, I think. But now I want a moment with Father Paul. White Star is not very tired, and if you can get Bertrand or Gerhard to hold you on, you might ride him round the outer court."Away go the happy children, and Sir Guy turns to the old monk, now chaplain of the castle--for after the death of his sister, and the cruel murder of his friend, Lord Cobham, he had joined the exiles in Germany."Is there any news, my son?" says the good old man."Not much, father, save that there is some stir about this new invention which some men say comes straight from the Devil, while others are equally certain that it has descended from heaven.""Ah! you mean the wonderful art of printing," said Father Paul; "both parties have somewhat of truth in their assertions. Old men can see deeper into the depths of the future than young men; and those who, like me, are drawing very near the golden gates, are permitted to see, though but dimly, far down the slope of time into days that are to come; and I see, in this way of multiplying books, a great curse and a great blessing for the world. Have you seen any of the work?""That have I, Father--several works; and I have brought you here one sheet, that you may see it for yourself."The old man takes the sheet with trembling hands; it is the first chapter of Matthew's gospel."One of the men from whom I purchased this is very sanguine; he thinks that when they have all theirmetaltype, they may be able to print a Bible in a day. Surely that would be a wondrous thing!""A wondrous thing, and a glorious thing!" said Father Paul, rising to his feet, and steadying himself with his staff, while his eye brightened, and his whole face beamed with what seemed almost the spirit of inspiration. "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for the day of the Reformation is breaking! The day promised so long is coming, O Lord! I have waited for thy salvation! The chains which have kept thy precious Word from the people are breaking, one by one. In the Lord's good time will he accomplish it. Glorious is the perfect liberty of the sons of God--the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and which he is about to proclaim to the whole world! When each peasant can have his Bible in his hand, then shall arise men mighty to preach it. Then shall Rome tremble on her seven hills, and the song of the redeemed captives go up to the Lord from all the ends of the earth!"Lord, how long? Lord, how long? Hasten the day, for thine elect's sake. O Lord Jesus! come quickly!"The old man sank back again on his seat, the tears dropping slowly on his white beard, his head bowed on the hands which rested on the top of his staff.Geoffrey and his wife have drawn near, and heard the old man's last words."Forgive me, my children," he says at last. "From the top of this Pisgah I see a glorious land. There are visions opening to my mind such as words cannot paint. Let me be a little while in silence."They are all still. Higher and higher up the mountains are creeping the evening shadows; already there are twinkling lights in the cottages below. Far in the distant west the purple and golden glories are melting, shade by shade into the intense azure of the zenith. In the east, almost touching yonder blue hill, is the evening star. The last sunbeam is linking the earth and sky, and over that golden bridge is passing a ransomed soul."Father Paul," says Geoffrey, "the twilight is gathering fast; will you not come within?"There is no twilight for him, for he is looking into the face of his God!* * * * * * * *ATTRACTIVE GIFT BOOKS.UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.SCAMP AND I. A Story of City Byways . . . By L. T. MEADE.FRIENDS OR FOES. A Story for Boys and Girls . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN.JONAS HAGGERLEY. The Story of £100 Reward . . . J. JACKSON WRAY.THE LOST JEWEL. A Tale . . . A. L. O. E.OUR CAPTAIN; or, The Heroes of Barton School . . . M. L. RIDLEY.MISTRESS MARGERY. A Tale of the Lollards . . E. S. HOLT.THE EARLS OF THE VILLAGE. A Tale . . . AGNES GIBERNE.CABIN AND CASTLE; or, Barney's Story . . . E. A. BLAND.I WILL. A True Story for Boys . . . ARTHUR HALL.IDA'S SECRET; or, The Towers of Ickledale . . . AGNES GIBERNE.WATER GIPSIES; Adventures of Tagrag and Bobtail . . . L. T. MEADE.CRIPPLE JESS; The Hop-picker's Daughter . . . L. MARSTON.THE GABLED FARM; Young Workers for the King . . . CATHARINE SHAW.LOVE'S LABOUR; or, The Caged Linnet . . . M. LEATHES.THE THREE CHUMS. A School Story . . . M. L. RIDLEY.TRUE TO THE END. The Story of a Sister's Love . . . DR. EDERSHEIM.FLOSS SILVERTHORN; The Little Handmaid . . . AGNES GIBERNE.WORTH THE WINNING; or, Rewarded at Last . . . EMMA HORNIBROOK.A FORGOTTEN HERO; or, Not for Him . . . EMILY S. HOLT.MARCELLA OF ROME; A Tale of the Early Church . . . F. EASTWOOD.IN THE DESERT. A Tale of the Huguenots . . . D. ALCOCK.NOBODY'S LAD. A Story of the Big City . . . LESLIE KEITH.MADGE HARDWICKE; or, Mists of the Valley . . . AGNES GIBERNE.OUR SOLDIER HERO. The Story of my Brothers . . . M. L. RIDLEY.COUSIN DORA; or, Serving the King . . . EMILY BRODIE.BRAVE GEORDIE. The Story of an English Boy. . . G. STEBBING.MARJORY AND MURIEL; or, Two London Homes . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN.LIFE IN A NUTSHELL. A Story . . . AGNES GIBBERNE.GIPSY MIKE; or, Firm as a Rock . . . ANON.DAVID'S LITTLE LAD. A Story of a Noble Deed . . . L. T. MEADE.SILVERDALE RECTORY; or, The Golden Links . . . G. STEBBING.ALICK'S HERO; or, The Two Friends . . . CATHARINE SHAW.LONELY JACK, and His Friends at Sunnyside . . . EMILY BRODIE.WILL FOSTER OF THE FERRY. A Story . . . AGNES GIBERNE.SENT TO COVENTRY; or, The Boys of Highbeech . . . M. L. RIDLEY.FROGGY'S LITTLE BROTHER. A Story . . . BRENDA.TWICE RESCUED. The Story of Tino . . . N. CORNWALL.IN THE SUNLIGHT. A Year of my Life's Story . . . CATHARINE SHAW.OLD CHICKWEED; or, The Story told . . . E. A. BLAND.THROUGH THE STORM; or, The Lord's Prisoners . . . EMILY S. HOLT.THE OLD HOUSE IN THE CITY . . . AGNES GIBERNE.KING'S SCHOLARS; or, Faithful unto Death . . . M. L. RIDLEY.JEAN LINDSAY, The Vicar's Daughter . . . EMILY BRODIE.SEEKETH NOT HER OWN. An Old Time Story . . . M. L. SITWELL.MOTHER MEG. The Story of Dickie's Attic . . . CATHARINE SHAW.GEOFFREY THE LOLLARD . . . F. EASTWOOD.NELLIE ARUNDEL. A Tale of Home Life . . . CATHARINE SHAW.WALTER ALISON: His Friends and Foes . . . M. L. RIDLEY.LONDON: JOHN F. SHAW & CO., 48, PATERNOSTER Row, E. C.No. 854*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKGEOFFREY THE LOLLARD***
CHAPTER XXIII.
Waiting for the Dawn.
Twenty years have passed since a boy and girl walked sadly side by side on the banks of the Thames one sweet spring evening. It is autumn now, and the slanting rays of a setting sun are gilding the vine-clad hills of the Rhine. The castles which in these days delight the traveller by their picturesque ruins, were, at the time of which we are speaking, in their glory, and frowned down on the peaceful water from many a lofty summit.
The peasants are gathering in the vintage, and yonder, slowly climbing the hill toward a great building, whose turrets, catching the latest beams, seem burnished with gold, is a heavy cart laden with the rich purple clusters, and surrounded by a group of women and children, who are urging on the patient oxen with shouts and songs.
This has been a wonderfully abundant year. The great granaries of the owner of the valley are bursting with corn, and the vines are bending with their luscious load. Nor is there one who does not rejoice in their master's prosperity; for far and near, high and low, all love and honor the baron of Arnstein--Geoffrey the Good.
It is true that some say he is only an adventurer, who had landed a penniless exile on their shores, and who owed all his present fortune to his sword and his sovereign's favor; but none dare say that his wealth and power have not been fairly and nobly won, and generously and justly used. He had not gone far in the path of military glory and ambition; but soon quitting the court and the field, he he had settled down on his estate, and contented himself with governing his people, and attending to their welfare.
The vintage-cart has mounted higher and higher, and now it has turned into a court, and is depositing its load. Farther on, in an inner court, where a porch opens into the great castle-hall, stands the lord and master; and the peasants pay him their respects with many an awkward but sincere reverence.
He is a fine, hale, sunburnt man. A few silver hairs are to be seen in his dark curls and heavy beard; but his martial air and stalwart form proclaim him in the prime of life. He is leaning with one shoulder against the doorway, and the other arm is thrown round a rosy little lady, very matronly in her cap and plaited kerchief, but showing, in her twinkling eyes and dimpled mouth, much of the roguish spirit which characterized the Lady Katharine Hyde of yore. She looks rather too stout and portly to flit about by night as a convent ghost; but it will be very wonderful if that small image of her, now engaged in teasing an old wolf-hound, should arrive at the age of discretion without some mischievous adventure.
A little farther on, in an arm-chair, so placed that the sunbeams light up his bent figure, and glisten in his snow-white hair, making it seem like a halo of glory about his head, sits a very old man. He is tracing with his stick letters in the sand; while a boy, some six or seven years old, is pronouncing their names, giving a scream of joy every time he finds, by the old man's smile, that he is right.
"Hubert," says his father's cheerful voice, "Father Paul will let you leave your lesson now. Run and meet uncle Guy; he is coming up the hill."
Away runs the boy right joyously, his sister not so far behind; and when they return, little Eleanor is seated on a tall horse, in front of a young man in student's dress, and Hubert is leading the horse by the bridle.
Young Guy had joined his brother and sister after his mother's death, and was now making rapid progress toward distinction in a German college. His frank manners and bright, merry face make him a welcome everywhere, and the children receive him with joyful shouts.
"My new pony is to come home to-morrow, uncle Guy!" says little Eleanor, jumping up and down with glee, for he has dismounted himself and her, and is greeting her parents. "Gerhard is to train him for me, and I mean to call him Rollo, after the horse you were riding when papa and mamma came out of prison."
"Uncle Guy!" says Hubert, in a lower but no less eager tone, his face crimsoned with delight, "Father Paul says I know all my letters now, and to-morrow I am to begin in Papa's big book!"
"I am glad to hear that, my boy," Sir Guy says kindly; "we will have you at Wittemberg soon, I think. But now I want a moment with Father Paul. White Star is not very tired, and if you can get Bertrand or Gerhard to hold you on, you might ride him round the outer court."
Away go the happy children, and Sir Guy turns to the old monk, now chaplain of the castle--for after the death of his sister, and the cruel murder of his friend, Lord Cobham, he had joined the exiles in Germany.
"Is there any news, my son?" says the good old man.
"Not much, father, save that there is some stir about this new invention which some men say comes straight from the Devil, while others are equally certain that it has descended from heaven."
"Ah! you mean the wonderful art of printing," said Father Paul; "both parties have somewhat of truth in their assertions. Old men can see deeper into the depths of the future than young men; and those who, like me, are drawing very near the golden gates, are permitted to see, though but dimly, far down the slope of time into days that are to come; and I see, in this way of multiplying books, a great curse and a great blessing for the world. Have you seen any of the work?"
"That have I, Father--several works; and I have brought you here one sheet, that you may see it for yourself."
The old man takes the sheet with trembling hands; it is the first chapter of Matthew's gospel.
"One of the men from whom I purchased this is very sanguine; he thinks that when they have all theirmetaltype, they may be able to print a Bible in a day. Surely that would be a wondrous thing!"
"A wondrous thing, and a glorious thing!" said Father Paul, rising to his feet, and steadying himself with his staff, while his eye brightened, and his whole face beamed with what seemed almost the spirit of inspiration. "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for the day of the Reformation is breaking! The day promised so long is coming, O Lord! I have waited for thy salvation! The chains which have kept thy precious Word from the people are breaking, one by one. In the Lord's good time will he accomplish it. Glorious is the perfect liberty of the sons of God--the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and which he is about to proclaim to the whole world! When each peasant can have his Bible in his hand, then shall arise men mighty to preach it. Then shall Rome tremble on her seven hills, and the song of the redeemed captives go up to the Lord from all the ends of the earth!
"Lord, how long? Lord, how long? Hasten the day, for thine elect's sake. O Lord Jesus! come quickly!"
The old man sank back again on his seat, the tears dropping slowly on his white beard, his head bowed on the hands which rested on the top of his staff.
Geoffrey and his wife have drawn near, and heard the old man's last words.
"Forgive me, my children," he says at last. "From the top of this Pisgah I see a glorious land. There are visions opening to my mind such as words cannot paint. Let me be a little while in silence."
They are all still. Higher and higher up the mountains are creeping the evening shadows; already there are twinkling lights in the cottages below. Far in the distant west the purple and golden glories are melting, shade by shade into the intense azure of the zenith. In the east, almost touching yonder blue hill, is the evening star. The last sunbeam is linking the earth and sky, and over that golden bridge is passing a ransomed soul.
"Father Paul," says Geoffrey, "the twilight is gathering fast; will you not come within?"
There is no twilight for him, for he is looking into the face of his God!
* * * * * * * *
ATTRACTIVE GIFT BOOKS.
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.
SCAMP AND I. A Story of City Byways . . . By L. T. MEADE.FRIENDS OR FOES. A Story for Boys and Girls . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN.JONAS HAGGERLEY. The Story of £100 Reward . . . J. JACKSON WRAY.THE LOST JEWEL. A Tale . . . A. L. O. E.OUR CAPTAIN; or, The Heroes of Barton School . . . M. L. RIDLEY.MISTRESS MARGERY. A Tale of the Lollards . . E. S. HOLT.THE EARLS OF THE VILLAGE. A Tale . . . AGNES GIBERNE.CABIN AND CASTLE; or, Barney's Story . . . E. A. BLAND.I WILL. A True Story for Boys . . . ARTHUR HALL.IDA'S SECRET; or, The Towers of Ickledale . . . AGNES GIBERNE.WATER GIPSIES; Adventures of Tagrag and Bobtail . . . L. T. MEADE.CRIPPLE JESS; The Hop-picker's Daughter . . . L. MARSTON.THE GABLED FARM; Young Workers for the King . . . CATHARINE SHAW.LOVE'S LABOUR; or, The Caged Linnet . . . M. LEATHES.THE THREE CHUMS. A School Story . . . M. L. RIDLEY.TRUE TO THE END. The Story of a Sister's Love . . . DR. EDERSHEIM.FLOSS SILVERTHORN; The Little Handmaid . . . AGNES GIBERNE.WORTH THE WINNING; or, Rewarded at Last . . . EMMA HORNIBROOK.A FORGOTTEN HERO; or, Not for Him . . . EMILY S. HOLT.MARCELLA OF ROME; A Tale of the Early Church . . . F. EASTWOOD.IN THE DESERT. A Tale of the Huguenots . . . D. ALCOCK.NOBODY'S LAD. A Story of the Big City . . . LESLIE KEITH.MADGE HARDWICKE; or, Mists of the Valley . . . AGNES GIBERNE.OUR SOLDIER HERO. The Story of my Brothers . . . M. L. RIDLEY.COUSIN DORA; or, Serving the King . . . EMILY BRODIE.BRAVE GEORDIE. The Story of an English Boy. . . G. STEBBING.MARJORY AND MURIEL; or, Two London Homes . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN.LIFE IN A NUTSHELL. A Story . . . AGNES GIBBERNE.GIPSY MIKE; or, Firm as a Rock . . . ANON.DAVID'S LITTLE LAD. A Story of a Noble Deed . . . L. T. MEADE.SILVERDALE RECTORY; or, The Golden Links . . . G. STEBBING.ALICK'S HERO; or, The Two Friends . . . CATHARINE SHAW.LONELY JACK, and His Friends at Sunnyside . . . EMILY BRODIE.WILL FOSTER OF THE FERRY. A Story . . . AGNES GIBERNE.SENT TO COVENTRY; or, The Boys of Highbeech . . . M. L. RIDLEY.FROGGY'S LITTLE BROTHER. A Story . . . BRENDA.TWICE RESCUED. The Story of Tino . . . N. CORNWALL.IN THE SUNLIGHT. A Year of my Life's Story . . . CATHARINE SHAW.OLD CHICKWEED; or, The Story told . . . E. A. BLAND.THROUGH THE STORM; or, The Lord's Prisoners . . . EMILY S. HOLT.THE OLD HOUSE IN THE CITY . . . AGNES GIBERNE.KING'S SCHOLARS; or, Faithful unto Death . . . M. L. RIDLEY.JEAN LINDSAY, The Vicar's Daughter . . . EMILY BRODIE.SEEKETH NOT HER OWN. An Old Time Story . . . M. L. SITWELL.MOTHER MEG. The Story of Dickie's Attic . . . CATHARINE SHAW.GEOFFREY THE LOLLARD . . . F. EASTWOOD.NELLIE ARUNDEL. A Tale of Home Life . . . CATHARINE SHAW.WALTER ALISON: His Friends and Foes . . . M. L. RIDLEY.
LONDON: JOHN F. SHAW & CO., 48, PATERNOSTER Row, E. C.
No. 854
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKGEOFFREY THE LOLLARD***