'"And these are all of the pupils, madam?" demanded the sheriff's man (Master Noakes his companion called him) of Mrs. Fortescue.
'"These are all," she repeated mechanically.
'"Very good, very good," Master Noakes proceeded, as with his back against the wall, and his arms folded, he surveyed us all critically. "And now, ladies, mayhap you'll be good enough to answer a few questions that I'm going to put to you; and look you, I must have the truth, and nothing more or less. You won't find it easy to hoodwink me, I warrant."
'These insolent words, and the threatening manner in which they were spoken, made some of us grow white with terror, while others reddened with indignation. I saw Henrietta's hand clench involuntarily, and she bit her lip till it bled.
'"Now, Mrs. Elizabeth Davenant," Master Noakes continued, "you can't deny that you and all your schoolmates here presented a silk banner to that notorious rebel and traitor the late Duke of Monmouth, when he proclaimed himself king here on the twentieth of June last."
'"I have no wish to deny it, sir," replied Bessie, plucking up her courage a little in her anger and offended pride. "It was I myself who gave the banner into the Duke's hand."
'"But on behalf of you all? These ladies were all with you?"
'"Yes, all; that is, except Mistress Sidney."
'"And you all helped to deck out the house with flowers and garlands the day that the Duke made his first entry into Taunton?"
'"All but Mistress Sidney, who would have nought to do with it."
'Master Noakes stared at Henrietta, and then smiled disagreeably, and winked at his friend.
'"And pray, which among you worked this fine banner of yours?" was his next question.
'I suppose I did not quite realize the danger of our position even then, for I remember feeling more elated than frightened as I stepped forward with the seven other girls, all older than myself, who had joined in the embroidery of the banner.
'"What! My Lady Desmond too?" remarked this detestable man in his bold, familiar way. "Can your little ladyship really do such dainty handiwork?"
'"Yes, indeed, sir!" was my prompt and indignant reply. "I worked more than half the unicorn." Whereupon Master Noakes laughed, and Mrs. Fortescue gave a quick, uneasy glance towards me, as if somewhat anxious to hear what more I might be going to communicate. But Master Noakes asked no more of me just then. After putting one or two questions to some of the other girls, he turned to Mrs. Fortescue, saying:
'"Then, madam, as I notified to you just now, I am commanded to arrest yourself and all these ladies in the King's name. A guard will be placed in the house, and no member of the household will leave it until the King's pleasure be further known."
'Mrs. Fortescue only bent her head in reply to this speech; but I fancied that there was a look of relief in her face, as if she had expected something worse. We all stood in dead silence for some moments, hardly daring even to look at one another. Ph[oe]be's news had been only too true. We were all prisoners—prisoners in our own house! And what the King's pleasure would be with regard to our further disposal I longed to ask, but dared not. But the worst had not come, after all. The little man in black broke the silence first by rising and counselling Master Noakes to go on and make an end of the affair as speedily as possible, as he had work enough before him, and could afford to waste no more time. I thought that making an end of the affair must mean than they were going to take their departure, and leave us to the care of the aforesaid guard, the idea of which frightened me very much. But no; they were not going away. The worst had not come, after all. Master Noakes's next words made my heart beat so fast, that I thought I should be choked.
'"I have a graver charge yet to bring forward," he said in a much more peremptory tone than he had used hitherto. "Mistress Davenant, Mistress Sidney, and my little Lady Countess here, can you deny that you knew of Monmouth's treasonable schemes full three days before he landed at Lyme, and that you sent money to him through his agent, Colonel Dare?"
'No one answered. Bessie tried to speak, but her voice died away into a whisper; and she could only cast an imploring, frightened glance at Mrs. Fortescue, who, resolved to make one last effort on behalf of her pupils, came forward and said in a tone of intense earnestness:
'"Once more, sir, let me remind you that these poor children cannot be answerable for the part they took in this matter. Whatever they have done, if not by Madame St. Aubert's express desire, was at least with her permission. You see what children, what mere babes, some of them are. What can such as they do for good or for ill in such high matters? It were surely the most cruel, shameful injustice——"
'"I pray you, madam, to hold your peace, and let them speak for themselves," interrupted Master Noakes, waving his hand authoritatively.
'"Let me at least say this much," persisted Mrs. Fortescue, not daunted by his rough words and imperious manner: "Mistress Henrietta Sidney neither gave money to Colonel Dare, nor had aught to do with the decorations, or the banner; and as to her knowledge of the Duke's coming, it was by simple chance that——"
'"No matter—no matter," quoth Master Noakes, cutting her short again. "She shall tell her own tale, I say. Now then, mistress," and he beckoned imperiously to Henrietta. "You heard what I said. Come, speak out, yea or nay?"
'"I did know of the Duke of Monmouth's plot full three days before he landed," she began firmly, after a moment's hesitation, "but I did not——"
'"Pshaw! no 'buts;' we can't wait for 'buts.' You admit that you did know; that's quite enough." Then he repeated his question to Bessie and me, and the little man with the tablets jotted down our answers as before, looking at us at the same time with a grim, half-amused, half-contemptuous smile, which was more disagreeable than I can describe. A strange chill of fear crept over me when I had whispered "yes" to Master Noakes's query. For the first time I saw that the danger coming upon us was very real and very near, and that there was no one to save us from it. I shall never forget how cold and sick with terror I felt for the next few minutes. It was a sensation that I had never known before. Bessie's answer was firm and frank—given in one of her impulsive bursts of courage; and she made a vigorous attempt to show Henrietta's innocence, and to take upon herself all blame for my share in what Master Noakes called "these treasonable doings;" but she was silenced as summarily as Mrs. Fortescue, and Henrietta herself, had been. And then at last we heard our fate—part of our fate at least: we were to be taken to prison; to jail!—and what would come afterwards we dreaded to imagine. It was for Judge Jeffreys to decide that,—Judge Jeffreys, of whom lately we had not been able even to think without hatred and horror. This sentence overwhelmed us all three. I burst into tears, and Bessie, after struggling for a moment to control herself, did likewise. Henrietta shed no tears: she made some incoherent, half-choked exclamation, and then stood quite silent; while the colour faded slowly out of her face, and she trembled so much that she was obliged to lean against the wall. Again Mrs. Fortescue tried to speak for us, doing her best to keep back the bitter indignation that was expressed plainly enough in her countenance. But in vain she forced herself to be calm and moderate, and to remonstrate as gently as possible against the cruelty of shutting up young girls of our age and rank in the common jail of Taunton. In vain she implored that, if we must go, she might be allowed to go with us; and, when that was refused, tried to secure a promise that at least we should be placed in a room by ourselves. The terrible fever known to be raging in the jail at this time was, she pleaded, reason enough for this—to say nothing of the sort of companions among whom we were likely to be thrown in such a place. But not the slightest effect did these arguments seem to have upon the two agents of Judge Jeffreys. They flatly refused to give the promise for which she begged so earnestly; and as to allowing her to accompany us, that was quite out of the question. She must stay to superintend her own imprisoned household, until it was settled what was to become of them. After that, her wish to see the inside of a jail might, doubtless, be complied with. Then they urged us to make ready for departure, without more loss of time; and Mrs. Fortescue, seeing that remonstrance was utterly useless, and in fact only likely to make matters worse, led the way out of the room, silently motioning to us to follow her—some crying audibly, some clinging together, hardly venturing to exchange remarks in half-stifled whispers, but all darting back nervous, anxious glances to see if Master Noakes was keeping a close and watchful eye on our movements. Yes, there he was close behind us; but, to our intense relief, he came no further than the first landing-place, and there took up his station, contenting himself with shouting, now a remark to his friend at the foot of the stairs, now an injunction to us in the room above to bestir ourselves about our preparations, or he would come and pack up our baggage himself. Oh, what a relief it was to shut the doors, and feel that at length we might speak without every word we uttered being noted down; and what a scene of confusion began now we were no longer under restraint. Bessie gave way entirely the instant she found herself in her own room. She threw herself upon the bed, and cried and sobbed so passionately that I felt almost appalled. This only was wanted to set flowing the tears of a good many more among us,—of Agnes Blount among the rest, who clung round my neck, weeping as if her heart would break. I had never before known how much we cared for each other. Meanwhile, moving about quietly amidst the buzz of voices, unmoved and unhindered by the girls who chattered, the girls who cried, and the girls who did nothing but stand in the way, Mrs. Fortescue, with the help of Henrietta and one or two more, collected the few necessaries that we were to take to our new quarters, and put them up together in the smallest possible compass; then, this business completed, she turned her attention to us. And we certainly were in need of it; for by this time Agnes's grief had infected me, and I was in almost as deplorable a condition as Bessie. Henrietta still kept her self-command, but she did not make any attempt to comfort us. Perhaps it was her intense shyness and reserve that stood in the way, perhaps it was the fear of breaking down herself—I do not know which; but all she did was to pause in her operations, and cast a wistful look towards me now and then, as if she were longing to speak, but dared not. Oh, how I longed for mamma at that moment! It seemed to me that I had never missed her before as I did now—no, not on that dismal day of my first coming to school. Poor mamma! had she any idea, I wondered, of the great trouble into which her unlucky little daughter had fallen.
'You see, the penny postage had not even been dreamed of in those days; and such a great event as the arrival of a letter had only happened to me twice since my arrival at Madame St. Aubert's. The last epistle had been written just after Sedgemoor; and my mother, little suspecting how my fortunes would be affected by that disastrous battle, called it "that most happy and thank-worthy dispensation of Providence," and bade me rejoice that the King's enemies were scattered, and the arch-rebel Monmouth safe in the Tower. And I had written an answer to that letter, but Madame St. Aubert had forbidden me to say anything about the Bible and the banner; or indeed to make any allusion to the part which she and her pupils had taken in the Duke's reception at Taunton.
'"During the disturbed state of the country," Madame said, "there was no knowing what might become of the letter, so it was as well to be as guarded as possible."
'When I thought of these things, I felt quite in despair about my story ever coming to mamma's ears, while my longing for her became more intense every minute. Presently Mrs. Fortescue's cool, firm hand was laid on my forehead, and then my arm was round her, and my burning, tearful eyes hidden upon her shoulder.
'"Poor little maid," she said compassionately, "I would I could send you safe back again to your mother. But, please God, you will see her before very long. So cheer up, child; you have nothing serious to fear—only a little hardship and discomfort for a few days, and then you will go home, and all will be well. They can't do any hurt to children of your age. All they want is a fine from your parents,—a heavy one, doubtless; but yours are wealthy enough to pay it, so you need have no fear. Poor Bessie yonder," continued Mrs. Fortescue, lowering her voice, "has most cause to be affrighted of any of you."
'"Oh madam, why?" I asked, looking up suddenly into her face, which was turned with an anxious, pitying expression towards the bed where Bessie still lay quivering with sobs.
'"She has not rich parents, child, like you and Henrietta: she had only her uncle to care for her, and he is in London under sentence of death, and all his property confiscated. Hush! do not tell her now; she will know it soon enough, poor child. I only learned it myself this morning; and I tell you that you may see how Bessie wants comfort yet more than yourself."
'"Yes indeed, madam," I whispered, and I dried my eyes resolutely, and tried my best to feel fearless and defiant of Judge Jeffreys and all his terrors. "But oh, madam," I could not help saying from the depths of my heart, "if they would but let you come with us."
'And then these words were scarcely out of my mouth when I felt inclined to laugh; for the thought struck me that a few weeks ago I could not have believed it possible that any one should really wish for Mrs. Fortescue's company who had the chance of being without it. Perhaps Mrs. Fortescue was thinking the same thing, for a sudden smile lit up her face for a moment; but the next it was sad and anxious as ever, and she said earnestly: "I would I might go with you, sweetheart, only that perhaps I am as much needed here. We are all prisoners, you know—not so much better off than you, after all. There!"—as another impatient summons from Master Noakes was heard from the staircase—"we must not linger any more now. God be with you, child. Don't be down-hearted; you have naught to blame yourself for in this matter. Say your prayers, and do your duty, and He will deliver you from evil."
'I suppose it was Mrs. Fortescue's manner more than her words that gave her so much influence over us all. We had always looked upon her as a person to be respected and obeyed; but ever since Madame's disappearance, she had been more than this. There was so much more softness and gentleness about her, and yet at the same time so much strength and spirit, that gave one a feeling of having some one to lean upon as long as she was with us. Her words had done me good; and seeing that it was so, she bade me make ready for departure with as much speed as possible, and then left me, to do what she could for poor Bessie's consolation. What she said, I did not know. I only saw her bend over the bed, and whisper for a moment or two; and then, impetuous and sudden as usual, Bessie sprang up and threw her arms round Mrs. Fortescue's neck with no more ceremony than if it had been mine. Just then came another of Master Noakes's resounding shouts, which were beginning to follow one another at shorter and shorter intervals, becoming every time louder and more peremptory. Mrs. Fortescue returned the kiss; and then, quietly unclasping Bessie's arms, began to twist up her pretty fair hair, which was in the wildest state of disorder possible. I think I never saw hair so nearly golden as Bessie's, nor did I ever see any with such a propensity for tumbling down. Ten minutes was the utmost length of time that those golden locks of hers had been known to keep smooth and in their place,—even Pauline's skill had failed in achieving more than this; and as for Mrs. Fortescue's hurried attempts to arrange them, the result would have sent us into fits of laughter at any other time: but just now nothing was a laughing matter.
'All was ready at last, and Mrs. Fortescue was trying to cut the numerous farewells as short as possible, and to impress upon the other girls that they were on no account to follow us down-stairs, when all last words were suddenly and effectually broken off by the tramp of heavy footsteps in the passage, and the sound of Master Noakes's voice actually close to the door.
'"Not a minute more will I tarry, ladies; so, if your baggage is not ready, you must e'en come without it. D'ye hear?"
'Mrs. Fortescue quietly opened the door, and, in her very haughtiest and most coldly polite manner, motioned him towards the staircase, saying that we were all ready to start whenever it might be his pleasure to do so, and suggesting that he should lead the way down-stairs. I hardly know what passed after that. An odd sort of vague, dreamy feeling came over me as if I was walking in my sleep, or as if I was not myself. A most uncomfortable sensation it was, like nothing I had ever felt before; and though I suppose it must have been brought on by fright, yet somehow I was less conscious of fear than at first. I began to fancy that perhaps, after all, it was only a dream, and that I should wake up presently and find that there had never been a rebellion at all, and that everything was going on as usual again. I was still in this curious kind of dreamy state when I left Madame St. Aubert's house, never to enter it again.
'I remember hearing Mrs. Fortescue beg that we might be allowed to wait for some breakfast. It had never entered my head till then that we had eaten nothing that morning—indeed I do not think any of us remembered it; and when Master Noakes refused, I believe the only person who really cared was Mrs. Fortescue. I did not feel hungry at all, only dull and stunned, and almost indifferent. I did not cry now when Mrs. Fortescue kissed me, though Bessie was half choked with her uncontrollable sobs; and for the first time I saw Henrietta's eyes swimming.
'She answered with a silent nod to Mrs. Fortescue's last hurried whisper, "Take care of them, Henrietta. I trust to you." And when the door had closed on Mrs. Fortescue, and we were actually in the conveyance provided by Master Noakes and his friend the notary, still that strange sense of being in a dream could not be shaken off. I gazed out at the well-known streets as we drove through the town, and tried to realize that we were indeed being carried to a prison; and then I looked at Bessie's tearful face opposite, and wondered at myself for feeling so apathetic. We drew up at last before a large, gloomy brick building, which I had seen only once before, and had looked upon with great awe and interest as "the jail," little dreaming then that the time was near when I myself should be entering those heavy iron gates, and lodging behind one of those dismal grated windows. The man who opened the door led us into a long dreary room, that looked almost empty, the only furniture being a table littered over with papers and parchments, and one or two wooden benches. Then Master Noakes, after talking with the man aside for a few minutes, and pulling out a paper (the order for our arrest, I suppose), announced that he was going to wait on the governor; and forthwith marched out of the room. We were left meanwhile under the charge of the little notary, who took not the slightest notice of us, but amused himself by sitting upon the table and examining carefully every one of the documents that were lying there.
'One or two words I had caught that had passed between Master Noakes and the porter—something about "no space, and the jail being as full as it would hold already;" and I fancied that perhaps they might not be able to take us in, after all, and that we should be sent back to Mrs. Fortescue. If it had not been for the presence of the notary, I should have asked Bessie or Henrietta; but there seemed a kind of spell upon me while I watched him sitting so silently upon the table, turning over the papers with such absorbing interest. So I said nothing, and sat leaning my head upon Henrietta's shoulder until I really think I should have fallen asleep, had not Master Noakes suddenly made his appearance again, bringing with him the governor of the jail. He was a worn, sharp-featured, and by no means good-humoured-looking person, and yet somehow I did not dislike his face. Not that he seemed to pity us in the least: he only stared at us with a perplexed, annoyed kind of look, and then said in a fretful, injured tone, as if he alone was the ill-used person:
'"So ill-considered to bring them here just now! when I scarcely know how to bestow those who are already here. His worship should have some reason in his commands. I tell you, sir, that the place is packed to overflowing as it is; and what with the fever too, 'tis enough to drive a man almost out of his wits."
'"That is no business of mine," replied the notary, getting off the table to salute the governor. "The order for the arrest of these young ladies is signed, as you see, by the Lord Chief-Justice himself. You won't care to go against that, I fancy."
'"But the house is to be guarded too, you say: why cannot they remain there?"
'The notary drew his companion away from our end of the room, and whispered in his ear. I could only catch the words "wealthy parents," which I remembered because I had heard Mrs. Fortescue use the same expression; and then he added in rather a louder tone: "Colonel Dare openly boasted that he was in communication with members of families of distinction residing in Taunton, even before the landing of the Duke of Monmouth. It has been proved that Elizabeth Davenant, Henrietta Sidney, and Frances Countess of Desmond were among the number. They supplied him with money, and were privy to the secret of the Duke's intended landing, three days before it took place. The rest of Madame St. Aubert's pupils are only accused of working and presenting a banner, as you doubtless remember."
"I remember the fact of the banner being presented," was the reply. "But what became of the governess?"
'"She passed Kirke's outposts by means of a bribe, and got safe off to France," replied this dreadful little notary, who appeared to know everything. "She escaped just in time too; for 'twas only the day after, that orders came down from London that no exceptions were to be made to the rule of arresting suspected persons. And not too soon either: Kirke was getting very lax. The law should be allowed to take its just course, sir, without all these exceptions and relaxations."
'"The law will have plenty to do here, then," said the governor in the same peevish tone of voice he had used before. "Three hundred prisoners here already; and to ask me to take in more! Well, I cannot gainsay your order, sir; but if these be ladies of quality, they will scarce relish the company I shall be forced to give them."
'"Prisoners must not expect good company," said the notary, glancing at us carelessly. "As long as you have them in safe keeping, his lordship will be satisfied. Master Noakes, it is time we were going. I wish you a good morning, sir; and the same to you, ladies." And, saluting us with something between a touch of the hat and a nod, Master Noakes and his companion strode out of the room.
'I was so much relieved to see them disappear, and to hear the ponderous door close after them, that my spirits rose again considerably; and in spite of the presence of the governor I ventured to whisper, "Oh Bessie, I am so hungry; couldn't you ask if we might have some breakfast?"
'The governor did not make any objection, though he looked as if Bessie was asking a great favour when she made the request in rather a trembling voice. I thought him what I called "cross," but I really believe now he was as kind to us as he dared to be, and kinder than prison rule permitted. He took us to his wife, who made us very comfortable, gave us plenty to eat, and petted me so much that I began to cry when the turnkey arrived to take us away from her. All my fright came back at the sight of his face and the sound of his jingling keys. "Why can't we stay here, madam?" I sobbed, taking fast hold of my new friend's gown. "I shouldn't mind being in prison, if we might. We would promise not to run away; and you might lock the door whenever you went out of the room. I don't want to see any more strange people; let me stay with you."
'"My poor little maid, I wish I could keep you," she said, kissing me. "But it is impossible. I should only be bringing you and all of us into trouble. I have kept you over long as it is, I am afraid." So saying, she thrust a cake into my hand, patted me on the shoulder, and pushed me gently towards Bessie, who put her arm round me, and led me from the room. I went on crying all the time we were following the turnkey through many long, dark stone passages, up steps and down steps, round corners and past closed doors, from behind which echoed noises, which caused us to quicken our steps to a run till we were safe out of hearing. At last our guide stopped before one of these, and began turning over his bunch to find the right key.
'"Oh, not there!" exclaimed Bessie in dismay; for the sounds of loud talking, shrill laughter, quarrelling, and swearing came to our ears so plainly, that even Henrietta looked frightened, and Bessie covered her ears with her hands to shut out the noise.
'"This is the women's ward," said the turnkey as he fitted one of his keys into the lock. "And here you will have to stay until your case comes on for trial."
'"If we could have a room to ourselves!" began Henrietta imploringly, pulling out her purse as she spoke. (She was the only one of us who had been sensible enough to bring one.)
'"'Tis impossible, mistress," said the jailer—"for to-night, at least. Well," as she put some money into his hand, "perhaps to-morrow there may be a room vacant. Folk don't stay very long here in these days." He gave a kind of ghastly grin as he spoke; and Henrietta turned suddenly away from him, looking quite white and sick. Then the heavy door began to creak on its hinges, and presently we found ourselves face to face with our fellow-prisoners. The noisy tongues stopped the moment the door was opened, and all heads were turned to look at us. Very confusing we found it to be stared at by so many pairs of eager eyes at once. The room, large as it was, seemed to me, at the first glance, to be quite full of people. There were women of all ages there—from eighteen to eighty—and of all ranks, too, apparently; for though most of them were rough, hard-featured, and bold-looking, there were some who were evidently ladies, and who seemed nearly as ill at ease as we felt ourselves to be. But there were no children, and a murmur of compassion ran through the crowd when they saw me. I suppose I did look very dismal; for my face was covered with tears, and I held Bessie with a sort of desperate clutch, as if she was my only protection, and our new abode a den of wild beasts. When the turnkey had shut the door behind us and gone away, a chorus of exclamations and questions was showered down upon us, which had the effect of frightening me more than ever, until I discovered that they were all of a friendly nature; and, in fact, that every one seemed to pity me nearly as much as I pitied myself. "Poor child! What a babe to be here! What has she done?" "One of my Lord Jeffrey's arrests, of course." "'Tis a cruel shame. She can't be more than ten years old."
'"What's your name, my little mistress?" asked several voices; and in spite of my fright I managed to sob out: "Frances Dalrymple—I mean Cary; and I was eleven last birthday."
'This piece of information was received with a burst of laughter, which quite checked my desire for making any more confidences; and I left Henrietta and Bessie to answer all the numerous questions which followed. Quite a little crowd collected round us to hear our story; and every one was loud in expressing indignation at the injustice of our arrest. But their sympathy alarmed me almost as much as everything else about them. They called the Lord Jeffreys such dreadful names. One woman swore, and clenched her fist whenever she mentioned him; and they became so excited and talked so loud when they began telling their own misfortunes, that I was glad when they got tired of talking to us, and one by one sauntered off to join other groups, and we were left in our corner unmolested. What a long, dreary morning that was! The only break in its monotony was the arrival of dinner, when we sat amidst a long row of our companions at the great deal table, and were served with bowls of greasy, watery broth, in which little bits of mutton were floating about. I was not at all hungry, but I was nevertheless both surprised and horrified when my next neighbour plunged her spoon into my bowl, and carried off the greater part of my meat. What remained looked less inviting than ever; so I begged her to take it all if she liked, and I ate the cake the governor's wife had given me instead. The girl looked slightly ashamed of herself when she saw Henrietta's eyes fixed upon her from the other side of the table, and turning to me, asked if I had had enough to eat. I said, "Yes, thank you," very politely. I was so afraid of her, that I think I should have said "yes" at any rate. But when I looked at her thin, pale face, I did not grudge her my dinner in the least, she looked so starved and miserable.
'"I thought you looked as if you did not care for it," she said. "When you have been here as long as I have, you will learn to take what is put before you the minute you get it, and be glad enough of it too."
'I could not help wondering whether I should also learn to take what was put before other people. But of course I did not dare to say so, and she went on in a tone of apology:
'"I'm just getting well of the fever. That's what makes me so hungry, I suppose. I never do get enough to eat here."
'"Were you very ill?" I ventured to ask, feeling rather sorry that I had eaten my cake so quickly.
"Yes; I believe so. I don't remember much about it. They told me I nearly died. There was one in the next bed to me that did."
'Bessie, who sat on the other side of me, gave a little start as she heard these words; but she did not say anything, and the girl went on.
'"I wished then that I had died too. I should have been out of this place then; but somehow I got better and better, and to-day I have come in here for the first time."
'"How long have you been in prison?" I asked, getting quite interested.
'"Ever since two days after the Battle of Sedgemoor."
'"Oh, how dreadful! And why?"
'"Because I gave the Duke of Monmouth a loaf of bread when he changed his clothes at my father's house, and bade God speed him," she replied. "And the next day the soldiers came looking for him, and father let it all out. So they took us both away, and brought me here; and what became of father I don't know to this day. I have never seen him since."
'By this time I had quite forgiven the loss of my dinner, and was not at all surprised when Bessie leant across me, with tears in her eyes, to say:
'"Oh, I'm so glad you did that! How proud you must feel of it. I would have given anything to have helped the Duke so."
'"It did him no good, poor gentleman," said the girl. "He was found, for all the pains we took to disguise him; and the King had him beheaded. Ah! well. I felt very sorry when I heard it first; for he was a kind gentleman, and a well-favoured. But I don't care now. He has brought so much trouble on us all, that I almost feel to hate him."
'"But he did not know. How could he guess that there would be all these dreadful executions? The King is responsible for them, not he," said Bessie, eager as ever in defence of her hero. "Besides he was fighting for his rights. Oh, I wish I had been able to do something for him!"
'"Don't talk to me of his rights!" said the girl fiercely. "If it had not been for him, I should have been at home and happy at this day; and so would you, and many another poor creature. Besides, what are his rights compared to all our lives, I should like to know?"
'"But surely, surely," cried I, "they can't punish you very much for merely giving him a loaf of bread?"
'"You don't know what you are talking of," she replied gloomily. "Haven't you heard enough about Judge Jeffreys since he has been in Taunton, to know that there is no punishment too hard for him to give, unless he is well paid to be merciful. You are ladies of quality: you will get off well enough, I warrant me; but I come of poor folk, and there is no greater crime than that in his eyes."
'I thought of what Mrs. Fortescue had said, and a chill crept over me. I sat quite silent all the rest of dinner-time, conjuring up all the dreadful stories I had heard from Ph[oe]be of Judge Jeffreys' cruelties. I thought of the men and women he had pilloried and flogged; of the twenty-nine men who were executed at Dorchester in a single day; of Mrs. Gaunt; of Lady Lisle; and of many another story too horrible to repeat to you, until I felt quite sick with fright. "What could be done to save Bessie from the hands of this wicked man?" I pondered vainly for some time; but suddenly a bright idea struck me, which I resolved to confide to Henrietta the moment dinner was over. I did not want Bessie to hear; so I felt rather glad that she went on talking to the pale girl, and allowed me to slip from her side after dinner without taking any notice. Then I pulled Henrietta away into a corner of the room, and poured out all my fears. That they were but too well founded, I saw directly from her face. She, too, had heard what Mrs. Fortescue told me of the fate of poor Sir Geoffrey Davenant. Bessie stood in real, terrible peril; there was no doubt about it. Henrietta trembled all over when she said this, but she begged me not to let Bessie know.
'"She must be saved," said Henrietta in a quick, agitated tone. "I don't know how; but, in some way or other, it shall be done."
'"Don't you think, Henrietta," I said, keeping my voice steady with great difficulty, "that if my father and mother are as rich as everybody says they are, they could pay the ransom for Bessie as well as for me? I could write and tell them all about it, and——"
'"Yes, to be sure. What a good thought, Frances! What was I about, not to think of it before? I'll write to my father too. Perhaps between them they might manage. They might petition the King. We won't despair. There are many worse off than we are, child."
'"Where shall we get paper and pens and ink?" I said, longing to begin, but casting a despairing glance round the room which was bare of any furniture but the table, and a couple of long benches on either side of it.
'"I have got them all in my trunk. Mrs. Fortescue thought of that," replied Henrietta. "She never forgets anything, I believe."
'It was a great comfort to have something to do. My fears for Bessie did not make me quite so unhappy when I was telling mamma all about them. Writing home made me feel less lonely; and, besides, there was the hope (I tried hard to think the certainty) that an answer to my petition would set all our misgivings at rest, and prove that my father was able and willing to pay any amount of money rather than that a hair of Bessie's head should be injured.
'Thus the afternoon slipped away much more quickly than the morning had done. Writing a letter was a serious business, and absorbed all our attention. Even Henrietta, who was considered one of the most accomplished of Madame St. Aubert's young ladies, proceeded very slowly, and paused a long time when she had to spell a difficult word; while, as for my epistle, it was so disfigured by blots, tears, bad writing, and mistakes, that I began to have grave doubts, as I went down, whether mamma would be able to read it. Then I had to consider what I had better say to interest my father in Bessie's case. I was so afraid of him, that I doubt if anything short of Bessie's danger would have made me bold enough to ask him a favour; but I would have done anything for her, and so I laboured away till my fingers were soaked with ink, and my head ached with composing sentences that should be as respectful as mamma could think necessary, and at the same time as urgent as I could make them.
'Bessie came to see what we were doing after a time, and said mournfully that her writing to her uncle was of no use, for she did not know where he was. She had never heard a word from him since the Battle of Sedgemoor. I was so afraid that she would see what I had written about poor Sir Geoffrey, that I put my arm on my letter, while I drew Bessie down to give her an affectionate kiss, and in consequence made the blots ten times worse. Then I laughed hysterically; and if it had not been for the example set me by Henrietta's grave face, I should have revealed the whole truth then and there.
'"How do you mean to send the letter?" asked Bessie, when she had comforted me for the blots by the assurance that mamma would not care.
'"I shall give them to the jailer next time I see him," replied Henrietta, "and beg him to give them into the keeping of the first letter-carrier that rides from Taunton. I think he will do it, especially if I give him a little money. He was not nearly so rough with us as that dreadful Master Noakes."
'"Don't let any one see you, then," said Bessie, lowering her voice. "That girl I was talking to but a moment ago, told me there are some women here who will never rest till they get every farthing of your money, if you let them find out that you have any. They bribe the jailer to get them drink whenever they can scrape a little money together, and then the noise they make is fearful."
'Bessie glanced, as she spoke, to the further end of the room, where sat a group of those women who had frightened us so much in the morning by their loud voices and reckless language. They were playing cards with a very greasy pack, and had done little else but quarrel over their game ever since dinner. The noise they made was distracting enough now, and what it would be when they were excited by drink we trembled to imagine. Alas! we knew only too well before the evening was over; for though Henrietta's purse remained safe hidden in her bosom, the prisoners found some other means of getting what they wanted, and the scene which ensued is beyond my power to describe. I do not suppose any of us were as fastidious as you would be now. For a gentleman to drink more wine than was good for him, was so sadly common in those days, that we had all seen instances of it in our own homes or amongst our father's guests; but the revel which was held in that wretched room was unlike anything we had ever seen before. We could only cower into a corner and try to remain blind and deaf to the shouts, the songs, the fighting, and quarrelling that were going on around us, and which continued, it seemed to me, hour after hour, until sleep overpowered the most noisy of the revellers, and they sank down, one after another, on the heaps of straw, which were their only beds. Silence reigned again, broken only by the deep snores which announced that our dreaded companions would alarm us no longer. The rest of the prisoners soon followed their example; and we were left the only wakeful ones, talking in frightened whispers, and not daring to move from our cramped position, lest we should rouse some of those still shapeless figures which lay ranged around the floor. How strange it was to sit there in the dim light watching the shadows grow blacker as the moon rose and peeped in at the high, narrow window. Bessie's golden hair looked pale and unnatural as the cold, white light fell upon it; and I hardly knew the pale, grave face for the same as the merry, bright one I loved so well. Yes, that night was indeed a miserable one. Even now it makes me quite melancholy whenever I think of it. I remember falling repeatedly into a kind of half-doze, and waking with a violent start each time from the same dream. I thought Master Noakes was trying to push me down-stairs. I did at last fall into a restless, uncomfortable sleep for a few hours, but all the time I never seemed quite to forget where I was; and when I woke at dawn, it was with a consciousness of something terrible hanging over me, though I could not at first distinctly recall what it was. So I raised my head from Henrietta's lap (it was on Bessie's I had gone to sleep), and looked round the great dismal room. Everything rushed back into my mind in a moment then: all the painful events of the day before—the past trouble and fear, and, what was yet worse, the dread of what might be to come. Henrietta was awake: she was sitting upright, supporting herself against the stone wall, and looking miserably white and tired, as if she had not slept the whole night.
'"Why Henrietta?" I began.
'"Hush! don't disturb her;" and she pointed to Bessie, who was lying with her head resting on one arm. "She is sleeping more quietly now, but for a long time she moaned and muttered, and tossed about so restlessly, that I was quite frightened. I was obliged to move your head on to my knee, for fear she should wake you."
'"But, Henrietta," I whispered, "have not you been asleep at all yourself?"
'"Oh yes; I believe I slept for a little while, until Bessie woke me by muttering in such a strange way. I am afraid she must be ill. Look at her cheek, how flushed it is now."
'It was indeed burning with a scarlet, unnatural flush, quite unlike her own soft, pink colour, which always reminded one of the petals of a wood anemone. Suddenly, as I looked at her, came into my mind what Mrs. Fortescue had said about the terrible fever at the jail, and the fear of infection; and I thought of that poor girl who was just recovering from it, and to whom Bessie and I had talked so much at dinner the day before. Somehow, the very serious risk that we ran had never struck me until this moment; but now that I did realize it, a perfect panic of fear began to overwhelm me.
'"Oh Henrietta!" I cried, springing to my feet. "She is going to have the fever. I know she is. Oh poor, poor Bessie! Perhaps she will die; and we shall all catch it, and die too. Oh mamma! I must go home to mamma. I cannot stay in this horrible place any longer;" and then I clung to Henrietta's neck, and sobbed in a kind of helpless, wretched way, feeling utterly unable to stop myself.
"'Hush! hush! sweetheart: think of Bessie," she whispered imploringly. "And the others too; they would be so angry if we woke them."
'But I was too far gone to control myself; and seeing this, Henrietta made no further attempt to check my sobs, but held me in her arms, and let me smother them on her shoulder. Bessie still slept on, in spite of my sudden outburst, and none of our fellow-prisoners gave any sign of being awake.
'"Frances," said Henrietta gently, after a little while, when I began to be somewhat calmer, "we must not forget our prayers, must we, though we are in such a place as this? Don't you think we might say them now, while it is all quiet, and there is no one to interrupt us?"
'She spoke with a sort of shyness and hesitation, as if it was an effort to talk of such a subject even to me, child as I was, and in the dim light of early morning. "If you please," I murmured; and we knelt and said the Lord's Prayer softly together, and then part of the Litany: "In all time of our tribulation, in all time of our wealth, in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment, good Lord deliver us!" It was the first time that I had ever said that passage with all my heart.
'When we had finished, I glanced at Henrietta's face, and there was something in her eyes, as they met mine, which made me, with a sudden impulse, give her such a kiss as I would have given Bessie.
'"I think you will not be so unhappy now, will you, dear Fan?" she said, returning it warmly, and stroking my hair; and I answered earnestly, "No, indeed;" for the mere effort of trying to repeat the well-known words that I had been used to say reverently night and morning, ever since I could remember, had soothed my paroxysm of grief and fright, and reminded me that our Father in Heaven was caring for us still, and that, under His protection, we might "dwell safely, and be quiet from fear of evil."
'"He will deliver us," murmured Henrietta, "sooner or later; so we will not frighten ourselves by looking forward to what may happen. We will make up our minds to hope for the best; shall we? You know the jailer half promised to give us a room to ourselves to-day. Oh, what a boon that would be!"
'This hope made me feel quite cheerful; and we sat talking in under-tones about our letters, and the possibility of persuading the jailer to forward them, until the sleepers around us began, one after another, to awake, roused by the returning sunbeams, which were now lighting up the room.
'It was not until all the rest were up and moving about—by no means noiselessly—that Bessie at last awoke. She had continued to sleep heavily—nothing seeming to disturb her in the least degree—until an old woman, with a particularly shrill, not to say cracked voice, struck up the old cavalier song of "The King shall enjoy his own again," which she elaborated with various trills, turns, and quaverings; and then at length poor Bessie gave a startled cry and sprang to her feet, almost before she had opened her eyes. She was quite well, she said, except for a little headache, but it was easy to see that it was by no means such a little one; and when the breakfast of somewhat watery porridge and dry bread made its appearance, she turned away with a shudder, declaring that she would starve rather than touch a mouthful. The morning passed away much as the day before had done. By Henrietta's wise suggestion we had made our toilets, as well as we could under the circumstances, before our companions had roused themselves enough to take any notice of us; but when Bessie began to plait her hair, and opened the trunk to take out our little mirror, a regular crowd was round her in a minute. It was just like our poultry-yard at home when mamma went out with her apron full of corn. The mirror was very soon taken out of her hands, and seemed to have but a small chance of returning to them. I suppose we must have been the only people in the room who possessed such a treasure; for it brought about so much pushing and jostling, and even fighting, among the women to whom Bessie had yielded it, that at last it was cracked right across, after which they became more quarrelsome than ever. Meanwhile some amused themselves by diving into our unfortunate little trunk, until every one of its contents had been pulled out and examined. One or two women interfered on our behalf, but this only made the wrangling worse; and Henrietta and I looked on in helpless dismay, while Bessie went on braiding her pretty golden locks in a sort of dull, indifferent way, as if she felt too languid to care either for the loss of her mirror, or the ransacking of her chest.
'But suddenly, in the midst of the commotion, there was a sound which silenced all the tongues in a moment, and made our eyes turn towards the door. There was a grating of the bolts, and a rattling of the key in the lock, and yet it was not nearly time for dinner. Was it only some new prisoner, or was it a summons, coming to one of ourselves, to the bar of the terrible Lord Chief-Justice? I remember quite well the intensely painful look of expectation upon all the faces round the room when the door opened, and the various murmurs of surprise, relief, and pity that sounded in our ears when we three were called upon to follow the turnkey.
'"So soon! the latest comers of all! Ay! well. May we never see them back again; that's the best luck I can wish them!"
'"Nay, neighbour, there are worse places than this, evil though it be," said the musical old woman; and the words made me shiver.
'"I wish you well through your troubles, my little lady," said the girl with whom I had made friends the day before. She had been collecting those little possessions of ours that had been strewn about the floor; and now she was helping us to arrange the hoods and mantles, which, by counsel of the turnkey, we were hastily throwing on. "I will try and take care of your goods there," she said, glancing towards the trunk; and then, as I thanked her, she bent down and added in a hurried whisper: "I was awake this morning when you were saying your prayers; it made me think of my own again. Tell her" (and she nodded to Henrietta). "Fare ye well: and God bless you all."
'I did not shrink from her now as I might have done an hour ago. In my present terror I had forgotten all about the fever; but, ah! how sick at heart I felt when I heard the door close, and knew that we were really on our way to a court of justice—that in a few minutes more we should be in the presence of the merciless Judge Jeffreys! And when we actually stood in the court itself, and above the hum of many voices all around us the tones of some one declaiming in hoarse, fierce accents reached us from an open doorway, a cold agony of horror came over me, that was positive pain. I leaned against Henrietta and gasped with fright.
'"Courage, sweetheart," she whispered. "Indeed you have no need for all this fear. He cannot do anything so very terrible to you. If he does say a few rough words, they will very soon be over. Surely you are brave enough to bear that. Think what much worse things some people have suffered, and how bravely too!" Her voice was so steady and cheerful, and she looked down into my face with such a bright reassuring smile, that I felt for a moment a little bit relieved. What I should have done without her during those wretched moments of waiting, I cannot say. I thought afterwards that I should almost have died with terror then, if it had not been for the sense of comfort that it gave me to feel her hand clasping mine, and her arm round my waist.
'Fond as I was of Bessie, I had never had the same feeling of confidence and protection when I was with her that Henrietta's presence had begun to give me.
'Poor Bessie! I had scarcely looked at her since we left the prison, so much had my fears absorbed me. I was not, like Henrietta, strong and brave and unselfish enough to think of other people in the midst of our anxiety; and we had been waiting some time in that crowded ante-room, before I bethought myself of looking to see how she was faring. Then, greatly to my astonishment, I saw that she was speaking to some one among the throng of prisoners awaiting their trial, and at the next glance I recognised her acquaintance as no other than our good old vicar, Dr. Power. His face, as he turned to greet us, looked sadly changed,—no longer ruddy, and beaming with mirth and good-humour, but mournful and haggard, and full ten years older than when we had seen him last.
'"Poor children! poor children!" he muttered. "It grieves me to the soul to see you here. A babe like thee, too. Shame, shame on them!" he went on, looking compassionately at my tearful, frightened face. "But take courage, little maid. It can be but a matter of a few thousand pounds or so, to set you free again."
'"Ay, for her—for both of them," murmured Bessie. "But, oh! Dr. Power, tell me the truth," and she spoke in a hurried, terrified whisper, grasping his gown in her earnestness. "Icannot pay a fine, you know—I have only my uncle; and he is gone, no one knows whither. What will they do to me? You will tell me the truth, won't you? What will they—what can they do?" she repeated piteously, looking up at him with an imploring, eager, almost wild, expression in her blue eyes. There was not much encouragement to be gathered from his countenance.
'"Alack! alack! alack!" he said, looking intensely distressed. "My poor child, what can I tell you? Faith, I know no more than yourself. Would to God I had never had a hand in bringing all this sorrow upon you. And now I am powerless, quite powerless, to help you out of it. It breaks my heart!" He sighed heavily, and stood for some moments with his eyes fixed upon the ground. Then, turning to Bessie suddenly again: "Child," said he, "I fear I can do nought to help you. Nay, mayhap it may rather harm you to be seen conversing with me now. So fare ye well. The only piece of counsel that I can give you, is to plead for yourself."
'"Plead withhim?" quoth the jailer under whose charge we were. "By your leave, sir, that's no wise counsel of yours. Far better tell her to hold her peace. What!"—here he sank his voice to a significant whisper, and raised his eyebrows expressively—"you don't know my Lord Chief-Justice better than that!"
'"Nay, surely even he, ruffian as he is, can scarce refuse to hear——" Dr. Power did not finish his sentence, but laid his hand affectionately on Bessie's head. She was looking then as she had looked on that fatal day when the banner was presented to Monmouth, only more beautiful. It struck me even at that moment, and I understood what Dr. Power meant. Fear and excitement had heightened the colour in her cheek, instead of taking it away, and added a feverish brightness to her eyes. I have never in my life seen any one so lovely as Bessie looked just then. Nevertheless the jailer only smiled a rather compassionate but yet more contemptuous smile, and shrugged his shoulders. He evidently had a very low opinion of Dr. Power's judgment in this matter.
'This unexpected meeting had made me in some degree forget my qualms; but that space of relief was only too soon over: and, oh! how my heart sank again when the moment came at last, and we were told to follow the jailer into court. All the former dread swept over me now stronger than ever. Dr. Power's farewell, "God be with you, my children, and preserve you. I doubt we shall never meet again!" hardly reached my ears. I certainly did not take in its meaning at the time; though afterwards the words came back to me with a pang, for the foreboding was a true one. I never saw him again.
'I clung to Henrietta's waist, and trembled so violently, that I believe she must have half carried me into the court. When I try to recall what was going on around us, everything seems in a mist until the moment when I found myself standing at the bar between Bessie and Henrietta. If you have set your hearts upon a vivid description of a court of justice, and a minute history of all the proceedings that took place there that morning, I am afraid you will be disappointed, because I have only an extremely vague impression of the whole scene. There was an immense room, an immense crowd of people; but the whole crowd—sheriff, mayor, lawyers, witnesses, and spectators—all looked like one hazy vision. Only one out of those rows and rows of faces did I see distinctly apart from the rest; and that was a face not soon forgotten by those who had once seen it. No; it only required a glance at those keen, fierce, deep-set eyes and scowling brows, and that savage, repulsive mouth, to enable one to recognise the Lord Chief-Justice. I recollect the rough, heavy tones with which he bawled out a command to "speak louder" when my name was asked, and I stammered out a timid, tremulous reply. His voice alone half-frightened me out of my wits; and, oh! the oath which he used, and the epithets which he bestowed on me and my father! (when at length, with a desperate effort, I did manage to pronounce my name audibly). I would not shock your ears by repeating them. The next thing I remember is, that some papers were read, which of course must have been the evidence taken down by the notary upon the day of our arrest; and then a string of rapid questions were put to us that were answered for the most part by Henrietta and Bessie—the same questions chiefly that had been asked us before by Master Noakes. Then some witnesses were called up and examined—some of Madame St. Aubert's servants, and two men who seemed to have been friends of Colonel Dare's. Of what they all said, I have not the least recollection. I only remember the blustering insolent way in which the Lord Chief-Justice from time to time interrupted them—sometimes bursting in with a furious oath, sometimes with a volley of abuse, sometimes with a horrible jest. I believe our examination lasted a very little while in reality—much less time than we had stayed waiting in the ante-room; but to me it seemed hours.
'We pleaded guilty to all the charges that were laid against us, only that Henrietta denied having given money to Colonel Dare, or having either helped in the working or presentation of Monmouth's luckless banner; whereupon she was silenced with a shower of foul language, that made us ready to sink into the earth with horror. When, however, at length we heard our sentence, the first thought that struck me was, that it was not such a very terrible one, after all. An order was given that our fathers or guardians were to be called upon immediately for the sum of ten thousand pounds apiece, in fine, for the "high crime and misdemeanour" of which we confessed ourselves guilty. This sum, over and above the seven thousand pounds which was the ransom for the rest of Madame St. Aubert's pupils, was the punishment which our additional piece of treason had brought down upon our heads. But "ten thousand pounds" were simply so many words to me, nothing more. I had not the smallest idea of what such a sum really meant. In fact, the idea of a hundred pounds would, in those days, have seemed to me quite as tremendous. I thought my father was a very rich man, and that, though he would doubtless be somewhat indignant at the demand, it was a matter of course that he would be able to pay the ransom. But Bessie knew the value of money better than I did.
'I heard a smothered cry beside me as Judge Jeffreys pronounced the sentence; and when, with scarcely a moment's pause, he signed to the jailer to remove us, she lingered for a moment, moved a few steps after us, hesitated again, and the next instant, while Henrietta and I stood motionless with horror and dismay, and even the jailer stared in speechless surprise, she had sprung back again to the bar. "My lord—my lord," she faltered in trembling, eager tones, "Hear me one moment, just one moment, I pray you, for the love of God. I can never pay such a sum of money. I have not a penny in the world; and there is nobody to pay it for me. Oh my lord, do have mercy. My uncle, Sir Geoffrey Davenant——"
'The Lord Chief-Justice must have been rather astonished at her sudden audacity, or he would hardly have allowed her to go on so long without interruption; but at this point he broke in with a rude, derisive roar of laughter. "Oh ho! so Sir Geoffrey is your uncle, is he? My very humble service to you, mistress. There, jailer, off with her! off with her! we have no time for such foolery as this."
'The jailer moved towards her, whispering, "Are ye mad, mistress?" and tried to lead her from the bar. But her spirit was up now; indignation and despair had made her forget all fear for the moment. With a glance that was almost fierce, she wrenched her arm from his grasp, and continued passionately:
'"You will not save me? You will not have pity on me? Then, at least, let me say this: if I must not plead for myself, at least let me plead for that poor child. I dragged her into this trouble, I persuaded her to give money; and for Henrietta Sidney, who——"
'"Take her away, jailer," thundered Jeffreys, with a curse and frown that made my heart stand still—"unless she wants to pay the ransom that her uncle paid this morning on Tower Hill." Then I saw Bessie turn white as death; and covering her face with her hood, she passively allowed the jailer to lead her away.
'The instant we had passed the threshold, I burst into a passion of tears. As for Bessie, she walked a few steps mechanically, and then, without a word or a sign, sank in a fainting fit on to the ground.
'As we re-entered the prison, the jailer carrying Bessie, still unconscious, in his arms, we were met by the governor. "Poor maid! poor maid!" he muttered pitifully, when he had heard the state of the case. "But, mercy on us, what a lack of discretion some people have! That she should have been so crazed as to dare to bandy words with the Lord Chief-Justice! Marry, what could she expect? She was in luck to escape so easily. Ah! these are fearful days, indeed." And he passed on, with an expressive shake of the head, pausing a moment to say in something of his old peevish manner: "I've ordered them to find you a chamber to yourselves. 'Tis sorely inconvenient, ay, well-nigh impossible to manage it; but there—well—my wife has been urging me so strongly——"
'He finished the sentence with a grunt as he walked away. This piece of news was certainly a drop of comfort in our cup of misfortune. It was such a relief to find ourselves at last alone. Though our room was dismal and comfortless enough, to be sure, still it was luxurious compared to the horrible place we had left two hours ago. Yes—only two hours ago, after all; but the very longest two hours that I ever remember in the whole course of my life. Ah! may you never know what it is to pass two such hours as those were!
'The turnkey left us, promising to send his wife with some strong waters, which he said would "bring the young mistress back to life again in a twinkling." He had laid Bessie gently down on the one straw mattress which the little room contained; and Henrietta knelt by her side, doing everything that she could think of to bring her to herself. I stood by, meanwhile, awe-stricken and bewildered, for I had never seen any one in a swoon before; and as the moments passed on, and she did not move or breathe, I began to fancy that she was dead, and that Henrietta was trying to hide it from me. At length, when the turnkey's wife came in with the "strong waters," and rubbed her temples, and poured a spoonful down her throat, Bessie did begin to show some signs of life. A tinge of colour came back to her cheeks, and she half-opened her eyes. But they had a strange, vacant look; and when I sprang towards her with an exclamation of joy, she gave an odd, frightened stare, as if she did not know me, and then broke out into a wild fit of laughter.
'It was in vain that Henrietta kissed her, and spoke to her quietly, and soothingly assured her that there was nothing now to fear, and that I tried to make her understand where we were: she took not the slightest notice of us, but only gazed at everything with the same blank, unnatural stare.
'"What is the matter with her? What shall we do?" I whispered, shrinking in dismay from her side.
'"Hush!" she whispered, and stood silently watching with intense interest the countenance of the turnkey's wife.
'The woman bent over the mattress, and, with her hand on Bessie's wrist, scrutinized her earnestly for a few minutes. Then, as she looked, her face changed and, turning to Henrietta, she said gravely: "This is somewhat more than a swoon, mistress. Look at her eyes, and feel her hands too—how cold and clammy! Dear heart! I fear she is very sick. Belike she is going to have the fever, poor lamb!"
'"The fever?" repeated Henrietta faintly.
'"Ay, mistress, it's been raging here of late; and there were some down with it in that room where you've been not very long since. Oh! it's been terrible bad in this place. I've lost two children by it, and I had a touch of it myself."
'Henrietta and I exchanged terrified glances. The remembrance of our conversation that morning was in the minds of both of us.
'"Ay, mistress, 'tis the sickness, I misdoubt me," said the turnkey's wife again, when Henrietta told her of Bessie's restless, feverish night, and her unnatural languor and depression in the morning. "'Tis always so with them when it begins. She was sickening for the fever all day, poor dear lady, depend upon it; and now this fright coming upon it, has driven the poor thing clean out of her wits. 'Twill be more than a miracle if it doesn't go hard with her. Ah! well-a-day, she won't be the first by a long way, whom that stony-hearted, blood-thirsty——"
'"Oh don't, pray don't talk so," implored Henrietta in a tone of distraction. "Only tell me what to do! Only bring her a physician. I will pay you anything you ask, if you will bring a physician to her."
'The woman shook her head doubtfully. She would see if it could be managed, she said; but it was for the governor to give permission. She durst do nothing without his orders, and he had just now gone into court as witness in one of the trials that were taking place; and then (she said), "Mayhap he will dine at his lordship's table. But there, lack-a-day," she concluded, "a physician could do but little for her now. The disease must have its course, you see, mistress; besides, it misgives me—it does indeed, ladies—that it will go hard with her, poor dear!"
'The turnkey's wife was evidently not given to looking on the bright side of things, but she seemed kind-hearted, in her way, notwithstanding; and she left the room, promising to do what she could about a doctor directly the governor was forthcoming.
'For some moments Henrietta and I could only stand looking at one another in mute dismay. It gave one such a miserable, helpless feeling to hear the dreadful fever was already with us—that Bessie was dangerously ill, and that we were absolutely powerless to help her. Neither of us knew what ought to be done. Doctors, medicine, proper food, none were to be had. Even the simplest comforts, that she had never before been without, were now hopelessly out of our reach. We could do nothing but make up the straw bed as well as we could with some of the contents of our baggage, which we had found in a tolerable state of preservation, lying in a corner of our new room. Strange to say, nothing was missing but the looking-glass. The poor girl had kept her word when she promised to do her best to take care of our goods. So we made up a pillow for Bessie, and threw over her everything in the way of covering that we could find, and then sat down, with heavy hearts, to watch by her side. She had sunk back into a perfectly unconscious state, looking as deadly white as she had been before she was aroused from her long swoon.
'"Oh, if Mrs. Fortescue were but here!" cried Henrietta, wringing her hands in despair. "If there was anything that we could do for her! But there is nothing—nothing at all—only to sit still helplessly, while she is perhaps dying under our very eyes. Frances, it is too horrible!" and for the first time since I had known her, I saw Henrietta cry.
'I had never before heard her speak so strongly and passionately—never imagined how intense her feelings were; and now the bitter grief in her voice, and the violent, uncontrolled way in which she wept, quite frightened me. I could only lean my head against her shoulder, and cry too; and in this disconsolate way we sat till the turnkey appeared with dinner. He brought us a message from his wife, to the effect that the governor would not return until late in the evening; but that she would come again herself, and bring a drink for the sick lady. Once more Henrietta entreated that a doctor might be brought, but once more in vain. Even when she offered every gold piece that her purse contained, the turnkey was obstinate still.
'"Not without the governor's authority," he persisted. "These were times when one must do nought rashly, if one meant one's head to stay on one's shoulders."
'Well, the hours went on dismally and wearily. Poor Bessie woke from her lethargy after a while, but in a state that shocked and frightened us more than ever. She tossed incessantly from side to side, with burning cheeks and parched lips—her blue eyes wide open, and brilliant with fever. Oh! what misery it was to sit and listen to her as she lay talking wildly and incoherently on all sorts of subjects—sometimes about Madame St. Aubert, and Pauline, and her old school occupations; at others, raving violently about Colonel Dare and the Duke of Monmouth. Then she would fancy herself again at the bar pleading before Judge Jeffreys, and implore piteously for mercy on her uncle. But, oh! the worst of all was when she started up and clung to Henrietta, screaming in an agony of fear that Judge Jeffreys was going to send her to the scaffold. The turnkey's wife came again in the afternoon with the promised draught; and whether it was the effect of that, or that she was at last thoroughly exhausted, I do not know, but she suddenly became quieter, and at length sank once more into a state of stupor. Thus the day wore on, and at last night came, and the turnkey's wife looked in to pay us a farewell visit, bringing another draught for Bessie, and a candle. She looked at the motionless figure on the mattress, with sincere pity in her face, and then shook her head despondingly.
'"You do not think her better?" asked Henrietta with a quivering voice.
'"She'll not be here in the morning," the woman answered gravely, after a moment's hesitation. "I wish I could stay with you to-night, mistress; but I've a sick babe to nurse myself." And with another wistful, compassionate glance towards the mattress, she bade us good night and closed the door.
'The next minute the silence that followed was broken by Bessie herself.
'"Henrietta, what time is it?"
'She spoke quite calmly and naturally, though her voice was very faint. A glance at her face showed that the delirium had passed away; but there was a curious expression in her eyes that I had never seen before. The wild, vacant look was gone, but they were still strangely bright; and there was something so deep and solemn, and at the same time so very sad and yearning, in the gaze which she turned upon me as I went to her side, that I almost shrank from her.
'"What o'clock is it?" she repeated, with an effort to raise her voice.
'"About nine, my love," Henrietta replied tremulously. "How do you feel, dear Bessie? You are better, I think, are you not?"
'Bessie made no answer. She only closed her eyes again, and leaned her cheek against Henrietta's hand. At length she opened them again, and said abruptly:
'"I heard what she said, Henrietta. She was quite right. I shall not be here in the morning."
'A thrill ran through me as she said this.
'"Oh don't, Bessie—don't speak so! You are, better now—indeed you are! You will get well, and my father and Henrietta's will pay." Here I broke off suddenly, checked by a warning glance from Henrietta, and buried my face in the pillow to choke back the rising sobs.
'"No, Frances, dear, I am not better," said Bessie, still in the same calm, steady tone; "and I don't think I want to get better. It is all coming back to me now. I remember what he said about my uncle. Was that very long ago, Henrietta?"
'"Only this morning, my dear."
'"Only this morning! And I feel as if it was all so very, very long ago. It seems like a dream—a dreadful, horrible dream. Ah! I thought I was going to die when he looked at me like that." She gave a sort of gasp and shudder, and clung more closely to Henrietta's hand. "I don't want to think of his face now, Henrietta. Do help me," she said plaintively. "Won't you read to me, and say some prayers?"
FOR A MOMENT SHE KNELT IN SILENCE, HER EYES FIXED ON THE PAGE.FOR A MOMENT SHE KNELT IN SILENCE, HER EYESFIXED ON THE PAGE.
'Without speaking, Henrietta took out her prayer-book, and found the Service for the Communion of the Sick. Her strong self-command was almost giving way then. For a moment she knelt in silence, her eyes fixed on the page, and her lip quivering; but when her voice came, it was clear and firm, as if we had been at evening prayers in Madame St. Aubert's schoolroom.
'For some minutes after Henrietta had closed the book, Bessie lay quite still, with her eyes shut, and I thought at first that she had fallen asleep; but presently she looked up and said, with a faint sigh:
'"Henrietta, I never knew what you were before. It was my fault if we were not good friends in the old days. Will you forgive all those thoughtless words and taunts of mine?"
'Henrietta's answer was a long, fervent kiss.
'"You were right, too, when you said we should bring trouble upon ourselves," Bessie went on mournfully; "but I could not help it. I do not know that I could do anything else, if all should come over again. I thought I was doing right. My uncle loved the Duke. Only poor little Frances—She must forgive me too. I feel as if I was a good deal to blame for her part in this matter.'"
'"No, no, dear Bessie," I sobbed, flinging myself down by her side. "It was not your fault. Henrietta did nothing, and you know she has been punished as much as we have."
'"Dear little Fan, good-bye."