Unknown to History: A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland by Yonge (sad books to read .txt) 📗
- Author: Yonge
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It was at this moment, in the deepening twilight, that the ship was hailed, and a boat came alongside, and there was a summons, "In the Queen's name," and a slightly made lean figure in black came up the side. He was accompanied by a stout man, apparently a constable. There was a moment's pause, then the new-comer said "Kinsman Talbot—"
"I count no kindred with betrayers, Cuthbert Langston," said Richard, drawing himself up with folded arms.
"Scorn me not, Richard Talbot," was the reply; "you stood my friend once when none other did so, and for that cause have I hindered much hurt to you and yours. But for me you had been in a London jail for these three weeks past. Nor do I come to do you evil now. Give up the wench, and your name shall never be brought forward, since the matter is to be private. Behold a warrant from the Council empowering me to bring before them the person of Bride Hepburn, otherwise called Cicely Talbot."
"Man of treacheries and violence," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, standing forward, an imposing figure in his full black gown and white ruff, "go back! The lady is not for thy double-dealing, nor is there now any such person as either Bride Hepburn or Cicely Talbot."
"I cry you mercy," sneered Langston. "I see how it is! I shall have to bear your reverence likewise away for a treasonable act in performing the office of matrimony for a person of royal blood without consent of the Queen. And your reverence knows the penalty."
At that instant there rang from the forecastle a never-to-be-forgotten howl of triumphant hatred and fury, and with a spring like that of a tiger, Gillingham bounded upon him with a shout, "Remember Babington!" and grappled with him, dragging him backwards to the bulwark. Richard and the constable both tried to seize the fiercely struggling forms, but in vain. They were over the side in a moment, and there was a heavy splash into the muddy waters of the Humber, thick with the downcome of swollen rivers, thrown back by the flowing tide.
Humfrey came dashing up from below, demanding who was overboard, and ready to leap to the rescue wherever any should point in the darkness, but his father withheld him, nor, indeed, was there sound or eddy to be perceived.
"It is the manifest judgment of God," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, in a low, awe-stricken voice.
But the constable cried aloud that a murder had been done in resisting the Queen's warrant.
With a ready gesture the minister made Humfrey understand that he must keep his wife in the cabin, and Richard at the same time called Mr. Heatherthwayte and all present to witness that, murder as it undoubtedly was, it had not been in resisting the Queen's warrant, but in private revenge of the servant, Harry Gillingham, for his master Babington, whom he believed to have been betrayed by this gentleman.
It appeared that the constable knew neither the name of the gentleman nor whom the warrant mentioned. He had only been summoned in the Queen's name to come on board the Mastiff to assist in securing the person of a young gentlewoman, but who she was, or why she was to be arrested, the man did not know. He saw no lady on deck, and he was by no means disposed to make any search, and the presence of Master Heatherthwayte likewise impressed him much with the belief that all was right with the gentlemen.
Of course it would have been his duty to detain the Mastiff for an inquiry into the matter, but the poor man was extremely ill at ease in the vessel and among the retainers of my Lord of Shrewsbury; and in point of fact, they might all have been concerned in a crime of much deeper dye without his venturing to interfere. He saw no one to arrest, the warrant was lost, the murderer was dead, and he was thankful enough to be returned to his boat with Master Richard Talbot's assurance that it was probable that no inquiry would be made, but that if it were, the pilot would be there to bear witness of his innocence, and that he himself should return in a month at latest with the Mastiff.
Master Heatherthwayte consoled the constable further by saying he would return in his boat, and speak for him if there were any inquiry after the other passenger.
"I must speak my farewells here," he said, "and trust we shall have no coil to meet you on your return, Master Richard."
"But for her," said Humfrey, "I could not let my father face it alone. When she is in safety"—
"Tush, lad," said his father, "such plotters as yonder poor wretch had become are not such choice prizes as to be inquired for. Men are only too glad to be rid of them when their foul work is done."
"So farewell, good Master Heatherthwayte," added Humfrey, "with thanks for this day's work. I have read of good and evil geniuses or angels, be they which they may, haunting us for life, and striving for the mastery. Methinks my Cis hath found both on the same Humber which brought her to us."
"Nay, go not forth with Pagan nor Popish follies on thy tongue, young man," said Heatherthwayte, "but rather pray that the blessing of the Holy One, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of thy father, may be with thee and thine in this strange land, and bring thee safely back in His own time. And surely He will bless the faithful."
And Richard Talbot said Amen.
CHAPTER XLV. TEN YEARS AFTER.
It was ten years later in the reign of Elizabeth, when James VI. was under one of his many eclipses of favour, and when the united English and Dutch fleets had been performing gallant exploits at Cadiz and Tercera, that license for a few weeks' absence was requested for one of the lieutenants in her Majesty's guard, Master Richard Talbot.
"And wherefore?" demanded the royal lady of Sir Walter Raleigh, the captain of her guard, who made the request.
"To go to the Hague to look after his brother's widow and estate, so please your Majesty; more's the pity," said Raleigh.
"His brother's widow?" repeated the Queen.
"Yea, madam. For it may be feared that young Humfrey Talbot—I know not whether your Majesty ever saw him—but he was my brave brother Humfrey Gilbert's godson, and sailed with us to the West some sixteen years back. He was as gallant a sailor as ever trod a deck, and I never could see why he thought fit to take service with the States. But he did good work in the time of the Armada, and I saw him one of the foremost in the attack on Cadiz. Nay, he was one of those knighted by my Lord of Essex in the market-place. Then he sailed with my Lord of Cumberland for the Azores, now six months since, and hath not since been heard of, as his brother tells me, and therefore doth Talbot request this favour of your Majesty."
"Send the young man to me," returned the Queen.
Diccon, to give him his old name, was not quite so unsophisticated as when his father had first left him in London. Though a good deal shocked by what a new arrival from Holland had just told him of the hopelessness of ever seeing the Ark of Fortune and her captain again, he was not so overpowered with grief as to prevent him from being full of excitement and gratification at the honour of an interview with the Queen, and he arranged his rich scarlet and gold attire so as to set himself off to the best advantage, that so he might be pronounced "a proper man."
Queen Elizabeth was now some years over sixty, and her nose and chin began to meet, but otherwise she was as well preserved as ever, and quite as alert and dignified. To his increased surprise, she was alone, and as she was becoming a little deaf, she made him kneel very near her chair.
"So, Master Talbot," she said, "you are the son of Richard Talbot of Bridgefield."
"An it so please your Majesty."
"And you request license from us to go to the Hague?"
"An it so please your Majesty," repeated Diccon, wondering what was coming next; and as she paused for him to continue—"There are grave rumours and great fears for my brother's ship—he being in the Dutch service—and I would fain learn the truth and see what may be done for his wife."
"Who is his wife?" demanded the Queen, fixing her keen glittering eyes on him, but he replied with readiness.
"She was an orphan brought up by my father and mother."
"Young man, speak plainly. No tampering serves here. She is the wench who came hither to plead for the Queen of Scots."
"Yea, madam," said Diccon, seeing that direct answers were required.
"Tell me truly," continued the Queen. "On your duty to your Queen, is she what she called herself?"
"To the best of my belief she is, madam," he answered.
"Look you, sir, Cavendish brought back word that it was all an ingenious figment which had deceived your father, mother, and the maid herself—and no wonder, since the Queen of Scots persisted therein to the last."
"Yea, madam, but my mother still keeps absolute proofs in the garments and the letter that were found on the child when recovered from the wreck. I had never known that she was not my sister till her journey to London; and when next I went to the north my mother told me the whole truth."
"I pray, then, how suits it with the boasted loyalty of your house that this brother of yours should have wedded the maid?"
"Madam; it was not prudent, but he had never a thought save for her throughout his life. Her mother committed her to him, and holding the matter a deep and dead secret, he thought to do your Majesty no wrong by the marriage. If he erred, be merciful, madam."
"Pah! foolish youth, to whom should I be merciful since the man is dead? No doubt he hath left half a score of children to be puffed up with the wind of their royal extraction."
"Not one, madam. When last I heard they were still childless."
"And now you are on your way to take on you the cheering of your sister-in-law, the widow," said the Queen, and as Diccon made a gesture of assent, she stretched out her hand and drew him nearer. "She is then alone in the world. She is my kinswoman, if so be she is all she calls herself. Now, Master Talbot, go not open-mouthed about your work, but tell this lady that if she can prove her kindred to me, and bring evidence of her birth at Lochleven, I will welcome her here, treat her as my cousin the Princess of Scotland, and, it may be, put her on her way to higher preferment, so she prove herself worthy thereof. You take me, sir?"
Diccon did take in the situation. He had understood how Cavendish, partly blinded by Langston, partly unwilling to believe in any competitor who would be nearer the throne than his niece Arabella Stewart, and partly disconcerted by Langston's disappearance, had made such a report to the Queen and the French Ambassador, that they had thought that the whole matter was an imposture, and had been so ashamed of their acquiescence as to obliterate all record of it. But the Queen's mind had since recurred to the matter, and as in these later years of her reign one of her constant desires was to hinder James from making too sure of the succession, she was evidently willing to play his sister off against him.
Nay, in the general uncertainty, dreams came over Diccon of possible royal honours to Queen Bridget; and then what glories would be reflected on the house of Talbot!
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