Grisly Grisell

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"Master Hardcastle desires it too," he said. "He is a good lad
enough, but I doubt me whether his hand is strong enough over those
fellows! You need not look for aught save courtesy from him! Come
down, lady, or you will never have your rights."

"Ah, Cuthbert, what are my rights?"

"To be mistress of your own castle," returned Ridley, "and that you
will never be unless you take the upper hand. Here are all our
household eating with these rogues of Copeland's, and who is to keep
rule if the lady comes not?"

"Alack, and how am I to do so?"

However, the consideration brought her to appear at the very early
dinner, the first meal of the day, which followed on the return from
mass. Pierce Hardcastle met her shyly. He was a tall slender
stripling, looking weak and ill, and he bowed very low as he said,
"Greet you well, lady," and looked up for a moment as if in fear of
what he might encounter. Grisell indeed was worn down with long
watching and grief, and looked haggard and drawn so as to enhance all
her scars and distortion of feature into more uncomeliness than her
wont. She saw him shudder a little, but his lame arm and wan looks
interested her kind heart. "I fear me you are still feeling your
wound, sir," she said, in the sweet voice which was evidently a
surprise to him.

"It is my plea for having been a slug-a-bed this morning," he
answered.

They sat down at the table. Grisell between Ridley and Hardcastle,
the servants and men-at-arms beyond. Porridge and broth and very
small ale were the fare, and salted meat would be for supper, and as
Grisell knew but too well already, her own retainers were grumbling
at the voracious appetites of the men-at-arms as much as did their
unwilling guests at the plainness and niggardliness of the supply.

Thora had begged for a further allowance of beer for them, or even to
broach a cask of wine. "For," said she, "they are none such fiends
as we thought, if one knows how to take them courteously."

"There is no need that you should have any dealings with them,
Thora," said her lady, with some displeasure; "Master Ridley sees to
their provision."

Thora tossed up her head a little and muttered something about not
being mewed out of sight and speech of all men. And when she
attended her lady to the hall there certainly were glances between
her and a slim young archer.

The lady's presence was certainly a restraint on the rude men-at-
arms, though two or three of them seemed to her rough, reckless-
looking men. After the meal all her kindly instincts were aroused to
ask what she could do for the young squire, and he willingly put
himself into her hands, for his hurt had become much more painful
within the last day or two, as indeed it proved to be festering, and
in great need of treatment.

Before the day was over the two had made friends, and Grisell had
found him to be a gentle, scholarly youth, whom the defence of the
Queen had snatched from his studies into the battlefield. He told
her a great deal about the good King, and his encouragement of his
beloved scholars at Eton, and he spoke of Queen Margaret with an
enthusiasm new to Grisell, who had only heard her reviled as the
Frenchwoman. Pierce could speak with the greatest admiration, too,
of his own knight, Sir Leonard, whom he viewed as the pink of
chivalry, assuring Lady Copeland, as he called her, that she need
never doubt for a moment of his true honour and courtesy. Grisell
longed to know, but modest pride forbade her to ask, whether he knew
how matters stood with her rival, Lady Eleanor Audley. Ridley,
however, had no such feeling, and he reported to Grisell what he had
discovered.

Young Hardcastle had only once seen the lady, and had thought her
very beautiful, as she looked from a balcony when King Henry was
riding to his Parliament. Leonard Copeland, then a squire, was
standing beside her, and it had been currently reported that he was
to be her bridegroom.

He had returned from his captivity after the battle of Northampton
exceedingly downcast, but striving vehemently in the cause of
Lancaster, and Hardcastle had heard that the question had been
discussed whether the forced marriage had been valid, or could be
dissolved; but since the bodies of Lord Whitburn and his son had been
found on the ground at Wakefield, this had ceased, and it was
believed that Queen Margaret had commanded Sir Leonard, on his
allegiance, to go and take possession of Whitburn and its vassals in
her cause.

But Pierce Hardcastle had come to Ridley's opinion, that did his
knight but shut his eyes, the Lady Grisell was as good a mate as man
could wish both in word and deed.

"I would fain," said he, "have the Lady Eleanor to look at, but this
lady to dress my hurts, ay, and talk with me. Never met I woman who
was so good company! She might almost be a scholar at Oxford for her
wit."

However much solace the lady might find in the courtesy of Master
Hardcastle, she was not pleased to find that her hand-maiden Thora
exchanged glances with the young men-at-arms; and in a few days
Ridley spoke to Grisell, and assured her that mischief would ensue if
the silly wench were not checked in her habit of loitering and
chattering whenever she could escape from her lady's presence in the
solar, which Grisell used as her bower, only descending to the hall
at meal-times.

Grisell accordingly rebuked her the next time she delayed
unreasonably over a message, but the girl pouted and muttered
something about young Ralph Hart helping her with the heavy pitcher
up the stair.

"It is unseemly for a maiden to linger and get help from strange
soldiers," said Grisell.

"No more unseemly than for the dame to be ever holding converse with
their captain," retorted the North Country hand-maiden, free of
speech and with a toss of the head.

"Whist, Thora! or you must take a buffet," said Grisell, clenching a
fist unused to striking, and trying to regard chastisement as a duty.
"You know full well that my only speech with Master Hardcastle is as
his hostess."

Thora laughed. "Ay, lady; I ken well what the men say. How that
poor youth is spell-bound, and that you are casting your glamour over
him as of old over my poor old lady and little Master Bernard."

"For shame, Thora, to bring me such tales!" and Grisell's hand
actually descended on her maiden's face, but so slight was the force
that it only caused a contemptuous laugh, which so angered the young
mistress as to give her energy to strike again with all her might.

"And you'd beat me," observed her victim, roused to anger. "You are
so ill favoured yourself that you cannot bear a man to look on a fair
maid!"

"What insolence is this?" cried Grisell, utterly amazed. "Go into
the turret room, spin out this hank, and stay there till I call you
to supper. Say your Ave, and recollect what beseems a modest
maiden."

She spoke with authority, which Thora durst not resist, and withdrew
still pouting and grumbling.

Grisell was indeed young herself and inexperienced, and knew not that
her wrath with the girl might be perilous to herself, while sympathy
might have evoked wholesome confidence.

For the maiden, just developing into northern comeliness, was
attractive enough to win the admiration of soldiers in garrison with
nothing to do, and on her side their notice, their rough compliments,
and even their jests, were delightful compared with the dulness of
her mistress's mourning chamber, and court enough was paid to her
completely to turn her head. If there were love and gratitude
lurking in the bottom of her heart towards the lady who had made a
fair and skilful maiden out of the wild fisher girl, all was
smothered in the first strong impulse of love for this young Ralph
Hart, the first to awaken the woman out of the child.

The obstacles which Grisell, like other prudent mistresses in all
times, placed in the course of this true love, did but serve to
alienate the girl and place her in opposition. The creature had
grown up as wild and untamed as one of the seals on the shore, and
though she had had a little training and teaching of late years, it
was entirely powerless when once the passion was evoked in her by the
new intercourse and rough compliments of the young archer, and she
was for the time at his beck and call, regarding her lady as her
tyrant and enemy. It was the old story of many a household.

CHAPTER XVIII--WITCHERY

The lady has gone to her secret bower,
The bower that was guarded by word and by spell.

SCOTT, The Lay of the Last Minstrel.

"Master Squire," said the principal man-at-arms of the garrison to
Pierce Hardcastle, "is it known to you what this laidly dame's
practices be?"

"I know her for a dame worthy of all honour and esteem," returned the
esquire, turning hastily round in wrath. He much disliked this man,
a regular mercenary of the free lance description, a fellow of French
or Alsatian birth, of middle age, much strength, and on account of a
great gash and sideways twist of his snub nose always known as Tordu,
and strongly suspected that he had been sent as a sort of spy or
check on Sir Leonard Copeland and on himself. The man replied with a
growl:

"Ah ha! Sans doubt she makes her niggard fare seem dainty cakes to
those under her art."

In fact the evident pleasure young Hardcastle took in the Lady
Castellane's society, the great improvement in his wound under her
treatment, and the manner in which the serfs around came to ask her
aid in their maladies, had excited the suspicion of the men-at-arms.
They were older men, hardened and roughened, inclined to despise his
youth, and to resent the orderly discipline of the household, which
under Ridley went on as before, and the murmurs of Thora led to
inquiries, answered after the exaggerated fashion of gossip.

There were outcries about provisions and wine or ale, and shouts
demanding more, and when Pierce declared that he would not have the
lady insulted, there was a hoarse loud laugh. He was about to order
Tordu as ringleader into custody, but Ridley said to him aside, "Best
not, sir; his fellows will not lay a finger on him, and if we did so,
there would be a brawl, and we might come by the worst."

So Pierce could only say, with all the force he could, "Bear in mind
that Sir Leonard Copeland is lord here, and all miscourtesy to his
lady is an offence to himself, which will be visited with his wrath."

The sneering laugh came again, and Tordu made answer, "Ay, ay, sir;
she has bewitched you, and we'll soon have him and you free."

Pierce was angered into flying at the man with his sword, but the
other men came between, and Ridley held him back.

"You are still a maimed man, sir. To be foiled would be worse than
to let it pass."

"There, fellow, I'll spare you, so you ask pardon of me and the
lady."

Perhaps they thought they had gone too far, for there was a sulky
growl that might pass for an apology, and Ridley's counsel was
decided that Pierce had better not pursue the matter.

What had been said, however, alarmed him, and set him on the watch,
and the next evening, when Hardcastle was walking along the cliffs
beyond the castle, the lad who acted as his page came to him, with
round, wondering eyes, "Sir," said he, after a little hesitation, "is
it sooth that the lady spake a spell over your arm?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Pierce smiling.

"It might be without your knowledge," said the boy. "They say it
healed as no chirurgeon could have healed it, and by magic arts."

"Ha! the lubbard oafs. You know better than to believe them, Dick."

"Nay, sir, but 'tis her bower-woman and Madge, the cook's wife. Both
aver that the lady hath bewitched whoever comes in her way ever since
she crossed the door. She hath wrought strange things with her
father, mother, and brothers. They say she bound them to her; that
the little one could not brook to have her out of sight; yet she
worked on him so that he was crooked and shrivelled. Yet he wept and
cried to have her ever with him, while he peaked and pined and
dwindled away. And her mother, who was once a fine, stately,
masterful dame, pined to mere skin and bone, and lay in lethargy; and
now she is winding her charms on you, sir!"

Pierce made an exclamation of loathing and contempt. Dick lowered
his voice to a whisper of awe.

"Nay, sir, but Le Tordu and Ned of the Bludgeon purpose to ride over
to Shields to the wise, and they will deal with her when he has found
the witch's mark."

"The lady!" cried Hardcastle in horror. "You see her what she is! A
holy woman if ever there was one! At mass each morning."

"Ay, but the wench Thora told Ralph that 'tis prayers backward she
says there. Thora has oft heard her at night, and 'twas no Ave nor
Credo as they say them here."

Pierce burst out laughing. "I should think not. They speak
gibberish, and she, for I have heard her in Church, speaks words with
a meaning, as her priest and nuns taught her."

"But her face, sir. There's the Evil One's mark. One side says nay
to the other."

"The Evil One! Nay, Dick, he is none other than Sir Leonard himself.
'Twas he that all unwittingly, when a boy, fired a barrel of powder
close to her and marred her countenance. You are not fool and ass
enough to give credence to these tales."

"I said not that I did, sir," replied the page; "but it is what the
men-at-arms swear to, having drawn it from the serving-maid."

"The adder," muttered Pierce.

"Moreover," continued the boy, "they have found out that there is a
wise man witch-finder at Shields. They mean to be revenged for the
scanty fare and mean providings; and they deem it will be a merry
jest in this weary hold, and that Sir Leonard will be too glad to be
quit of his gruesome dame to call them to account."

It was fearful news, for Pierce well knew his own incompetence to
restrain these strong and violent men. He did not know where his
knight was to be found, and, if he had known, it was only too likely
that these terrible intentions might be carried out before any
messenger could reach him. Indeed, the belief in sorcery was
universal, and no rank was exempt from the danger of the accusation.
Thora's treachery was specially perilous. All that the young man
could do was to seek counsel with Cuthbert Ridley, and even this he
was obliged to do in the stable, bidding Dick keep watch outside.
Ridley too had heard a spiteful whisper or two, but it had seemed too
preposterous for him to attend to it. "You are young, Hardcastle,"
he said, with a smile, "or you would know that there is nothing a
grumbler will not say, nor how far men's tongues lie from their
hands."

"Nay, but if their hands DID begin to act, how should we save the
lady? There's nothing Tordu would not do. Could we get her away to
some nunnery?"

"There is no nunnery nearer at hand than Gateshead, and there the
Prioress is a Musgrove, no friend to my lord. She might give her up,
on such a charge, for holy Church is no guardian in them. My poor
bairn! That ingrate Thora too! I would fain wring her neck! Yet
here are our fisher folk, who love her for her bounty."

"Would they hide her?" asked Pierce.

"That serving-wench--would I had drowned her ere bringing her here--
might turn them, and, were she tracked, I ken not who might not be
scared or tortured into giving her up!"

Here Dick looked in. "Tordu is crossing the yard," he said.

They both became immediately absorbed in studying the condition of
Featherstone's horse, which had never wholly recovered the flight
from Wakefield.

After a time Ridley was able to steal away, and visit Grisell in her
apartment. She came to meet him, and he read alarm, incredulous
alarm, in her face. She put her hands in his. "Is it sooth?" she
said, in a strange, awe-stricken voice.

"You have heard, then, my wench?"

"Thora speaks in a strange tone, as though evil were brewing against
me. But you, and Master Hardcastle, and Sir Lucas, and the rest
would never let them touch me?"

"They should only do so through my heart's blood, dear child; but
mine would be soon shed, and Hardcastle is a weakly lad, whom those
fellows believe to be bewitched. We must find some other way!"

"Sir Leonard would save me if he knew. Alas! the good Earl of
Salisbury is dead."

"'Tis true. If we could hide you till we be rid of these men. But
where?" and he made a despairing gesture.

Grisell stood stunned and dazed as the horrible prospect rose before
her of being seized by these lawless men, tortured by the savage
hands of the witch-finder, subjected to a cruel death, by fire, or at
best by water. She pressed her hands together, feeling utterly
desolate, and prayed her prayer to the God of the fatherless to save
her or brace her to endure.

Presently Cuthbert exclaimed, "Would Master Groats, the Poticary,
shelter you till this is over-past? His wife is deaf and must
perforce keep counsel."

"He would! I verily believe he would," exclaimed Grisell; "and no
suspicion would light on him. How soon can I go to him, and how?"

"If it may be, this very night," said Ridley. "I missed two of the
rogues, and who knows whither they may have gone?"

"Will there be time?" said the poor girl, looking round in terror.

"Certes. The nearest witch-finder is at Shields, and they cannot get
there and back under two days. Have you jewels, lady? And hark you,
trust not to Thora. She is the worst traitor of all. Ask me no
more, but be ready to come down when you hear a whistle."

That Thora could be a traitress and turn against her--the girl whom
she had taught, trained, and civilised--was too much to believe. She
would almost, in spite of cautions, have asked her if it were
possible, and tried to explain the true character of the services
that were so cruelly misinterpreted; but as she descended the dark
winding stair to supper, she heard the following colloquy:

"You will not deal hardly with her, good Ralph, dear Ralph?"

"That thou shalt see, maid! On thy life, not a word to her."

"Nay, but she is a white witch! she does no evil."

"What! Going back on what thou saidst of her brother and her mother.
Take thou heed, or they will take order with thee."

"Thou wilt take care of me, good Ralph. Oh! I have done it for
thee."

"Never fear, little one; only shut thy pretty little mouth;" and
there was a sound of kissing.

"What will they do to her?" in a lower voice.

"Thou wilt see! Sink or swim thou knowst. Ha! ha! She will have
enough of the draught that is so free to us."

Grisell, trembling and horror-stricken, could only lean against the
wall hoping that her beating heart did not sound loud enough to
betray her, till a call from the hall put an end to the terrible
whispers.

She hurried upwards lest Thora should come up and perceive how near
she had been, then descended and took her seat at supper, trying to
converse with Pierce as usual, but noting with terror the absence of
the two soldiers.

How her evasion was to be effected she knew not. The castle keys
were never delivered to her, but always to Hardcastle, and she saw
him take them; but she received from Ridley a look and sign which
meant that she was to be ready, and when she left the hall she made
up a bundle of needments, and in it her precious books and all the
jewels she had inherited. That Thora did not follow her was a boon.

CHAPTER XIX--A MARCH HARE

Yonder is a man in sight -
Yonder is a house--but where?
No. she must not enter there.
To the caves, and to the brooks,
To the clouds of heaven she looks.

WORDSWORTH, Feast of Brougham Castle.

Long, long did Grisell kneel in an agony of prayer and terror, as she
seemed already to feel savage hands putting her to the ordeal.

The castle had long been quiet and dark, so far as she knew, when
there was a faint sound and a low whistle. She sprang to the door
and held Ridley's hand.

"Now is the time," he said, under his breath; "the squire waits.
That treacherous little baggage is safe locked into the cellar,
whither I lured her to find some malvoisie for the rascaille crew.
Come."

He was without his boots, and silently led the way along the narrow
passage to the postern door, where stood young Hardcastle with the
keys. He let them out and crossed the court with them to the little
door leading to a steep descent of the cliffs by a narrow path. Not
till the sands were reached did any of the three dare to speak, and
then Grisell held out her hands in thanks and farewell.

"May I not guard you on your way, lady?" said Pierce.

"Best not, sir," returned Ridley; "best not know whither she is gone.
I shall be back again before I am missed or your rogues are
stirring."

"When Sir Leonard knows of their devices, lady," said Pierce, "then
will Ridley tell him where to find you and bring you back in all
honour."

Grisell could only sigh, and try to speak her thanks to the young
man, who kissed her hand, and stood watching her and Ridley as the
waning moon lighted them over the glistening sands, till they sought
the friendly shadows of the cliffs. And thus Grisell Dacre parted
from the home of her fathers.

"Cuthbert," she said, "should you see Sir Leonard, let him know that
if--if he would be free from any bond to me I will aid in breaking
it, and ask only dowry enough to obtain entrance to a convent, while
he weds the lady he loves."

Ridley interrupted her with imprecations on the knight, and
exhortations to her to hold her own, and not abandon her rights. "If
he keep the lands, he should keep the wife," was his cry.

"His word and heart--" began Grisell.

"Folly, my wench. No question but she is bestowed on some one else.
You do not want to be quit of him and be mewed in a nunnery."

"I only crave to hide my head and not be the bane of his life."

"Pshaw! You have seen for yourself. Once get over the first glance
and you are worth the fairest dame that ever was jousted for in the
lists. Send him at least a message as though it were not your will
to cast him off."

"If you will have it so, then," said Grisell, "tell him that if it be
his desire, I will strive to make him a true, loyal, and loving
wife."

The last words came with a sob, and Ridley gave a little inward
chuckle, as of one who suspected that the duties of the good and
loving wife would not be unwillingly undertaken.

Castle-bred ladies were not much given to long walks, and though the
distance was only two miles, it was a good deal for Grisell, and she
plodded on wearily, to the sound of the lap of the sea and the cries
of the gulls. The caverns of the rock looked very black and gloomy,
and she clung to Ridley, almost expecting something to spring out on
her; but all was still, and the pale eastward light began to be seen
over the sea before they turned away from it to ascend to the
scattered houses of the little rising town.

The bells of the convent had begun to ring for lauds, but it was only
twilight when they reached the wall of Lambert's garden of herbs,
where there was a little door that yielded to Ridley's push. The
house was still closed, and hoar frost lay on the leaves, but Grisell
proposed to hide herself in the little shed which served the purpose
of tool-house and summer-house till she could make her entrance. She
felt sure of a welcome, and almost constrained Cuthbert to leave her,
so as to return to the Tower early enough to avert suspicion--an
easier matter as the men-at-arms were given to sleeping as late as
they could. He would make an errand to the Apothecary's as soon as
he could, so as to bring intelligence.

There sat Grisell, looking out on the brightening sky, while the
blackbirds and thrushes were bursting into song, and sweet odours
rising from the spring buds of the aromatic plants around, and a
morning bell rang from the great monastery church. With that she saw
the house door open, and Master Lambert in a fur cap and gown turned
up with lambs'-wool come out into the garden, basket in hand, and
chirp to the birds to come down and be fed.

It was pretty to see how the mavis and the merle, the sparrow,
chaffinch, robin, and tit fluttered round, and Grisell waited a
moment to watch them before she stepped forth and said, "Ah! Master
Groot, here is another poor bird to implore your bounty."

"Lady Grisell," he cried, with a start.

"Ah! not that name," she said; "not a word. O Master Lambert, I came
by night; none have seen me, none but good Cuthbert Ridley ken where
I am. There can be no peril to you or yours if you will give shelter
for a little while to a poor maid."

"Dear lady, we will do all we can," returned Lambert. "Fear not.
How pale you are. You have walked all night! Come and rest. None
will follow. You are sore spent! Clemence shall bring you a warm
drink! Condescend, dear lady," and he made her lean on his arm, and
brought her into his large living room, and placed her in the
comfortable cross-legged chair with straps and cushions as a back,
while he went into some back settlement to inform his wife of her
visitor; and presently they brought her warm water, with some
refreshing perfume, in a brass basin, and he knelt on one knee to
hold it to her, while she bathed her face and hands with a sponge--a
rare luxury. She started at every sound, but Lambert assured her
that she was safe, as no one ever came beyond the booth. His
Clemence had no gossips, and the garden could not be overlooked.
While some broth was heated for her she began to explain her peril,
but he exclaimed, "Methinks I know, lady, if it was thereanent that a
great strapping Hollander fellow from your Tower came to ask me for a
charm against gramarie, with hints that 'twas in high places. 'Twas
enough to make one laugh to see the big lubber try to whisper hints,
and shiver and shake, as he showed me a knot in his matted locks and
asked if it were not the enemy's tying. I told him 'twas tied by the
enemy indeed, the deadly sin of sloth, and that a stout Dutchman
ought to be ashamed of himself for carrying such a head within or
without. But I scarce bethought me the impudent Schelm could have
thought of you, lady."

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