[Illustration: A noisy rabblement of people came running up]

ANDREW GOLDING: A Tale of the Great Plague. 

By

ANNIE E. KEELING

CONTENTS. 

CHAP. 

INTRODUCTION. --HOW I, LUCIA DACRE, CAME TO WRITE THIS HISTORY

I. HOW WE WERE VISITED BY TWO OF OUR KINSFOLK, OUR FATHER BEING DEAD;AND HOW THEY BEHAVED THEMSELVES TOWARD US

II. HOW WE JOURNEYED UP TO YORKSHIRE; AND HOW WE WERE WELCOMED THERE

III. HOW MR. TRUELOCKE PREACHED HIS LAST SERMON IN WEST FAZEBY

IV. HOW HARRY TRUELOCKE LEFT US FOR THE SEA

V. HOW ANDREW MADE ONE ENEMY, AND WAS LIKE TO HAVE ANOTHER

VI. HOW MR. TRUELOCKE AND MRS. GOLDING LEFT US

VII. HOW ANDREW CAME TO THE GRANGE BY NIGHT

VIII. HOW A STRANGE MESSENGER BROUGHT US NEWS OF ANDREW

IX. HOW WE WENT UP TO LONDON, AND FOUND NO FRIENDS THERE

X. HOW WE DWELT IN A HOUSE THAI' WAS NOT OUR OWN

XI. HOW THERE CAME NEW GUESTS INTO THE HOUSE

XII. HOW WE SAILED FOR FRANCE IN THE 'MARIE-ROYALE'

CONCLUSION. --HOW LUCIA DWELLS IN ENGLAND, AND ALTHEA OTHERWHERE

INTRODUCTION. 

HOW I, LUCIA DACRE, CAME TO WRITE THIS HISTORY, AT THE TIME THAT I WITHMY SISTER WAS LODGED IN A DESERTED HOUSE IN LONDON, WHEN THE GREATPLAGUE WAS AT ITS HEIGHT; WHICH WAS IN THE MONTHS OF JULY AND AUGUST, ANNO SIXTEEN HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE. 

Now that my sister and myself are in such a strange melancholy case, andI enforced to spend many hours daily in idleness, I find the time hangvery heavy; for I cannot, like Althea, entertain any longer the hopesthat brought us hither. She continues daily to make great exertions inpursuing them, but does not often admit my help; and, being afraid thatI may fall into mere desperation, I have bethought me how to amuse somehours daily by setting down the manner of our present troubles and thebeginnings that led to them. May I live to write of their happy end! butmy fears are very great, and almost forbid me to pray thus. 

Having thus resolved how to beguile the heavy time, I began spying aboutfor paper and pens and ink; and finding in a kind of lumber room a greatmany sheets of coarse paper, I stitched them together; then with muchtrembling I peeped into the study of the late poor master of the house, and there found a bundle of quills and some ink; and, leaving money inhis desk to the full value of the things I took, I carried mywriting-tools into the great front parlour, and set myself to the work. 

Now while I sat considering how to begin, Althea comes softly behind me, and, looking over my shoulder, asks me what I would be at; and when Itold her, 'What, child, ' says she, 'art going to turn historian? Thyspirits are more settled than mine, if thou canst sit quietly down tosuch work, with sights like these daily before thine eyes, ' pointingwith her hand to the window. Now I had pulled the table into a cornerwell out of sight from the street, wishing not to be discerned; for asyet but one knows of our being hidden in this house, and we would fainkeep it a secret still. But rising and following with my eyes herpointing hand, I could behold a sight common enough, but too dismal tobe looked on without fresh apprehension each time: in the middle of thestreet, which is quite grown with grass, a horse and cart standing, nodriver in sight near it, and the cart as we too well knew being thatwhich goes round daily to take away such as die of the Plague, though asit then stood we could not discern if any dead person lay in it. 

'It is waiting for our neighbour next door, ' says Althea. 'As I stood byan open casement up-stairs I plainly heard the family bemoaningthemselves because the master is dead; I heard also how they aredevising to get away unobserved in the early morning, and escape to someplace of safety in the country. How sayest thou, Lucy? were it not wellfor thee to go also in their company?'

'Never I, while you stay here, ' I answered. 

'It repents me often, ' she said, 'that I discovered to you my design ofcoming up hither. I would you were safe at home again. '

'I have no home, but where you are, ' said I. 

'Poor faithful little heart!' she says, sighing. 'Well, get on with thyhistory-writing; I must go forth presently, when all is quiet again;and when I return thou shalt show me what thou hast written. Tell thetale orderly, Lucy; begin at the beginning with "Once upon a time therelived two sisters; the elder was a fool, but the younger one lovedher"'--and before I could say a word she had slipt away. 

I sat awhile, too much disquieted to write, listening against my willfor the heavy sounds that told how the dead man next door was beingcarried forth and laid in the cart; but the thing lumbered away at last, its cracked bell tinkling dolefully; and I found courage to take to mywork. 

But to begin at the beginning is not so easy, especially for one sounskilful with her pen as I. And who shall say what are the beginningsof the things that befall us? Perhaps they lie far off, long before ourlittle life itself began. 

CHAPTER I. 

HOW WE WERE VISITED BY TWO OF OUR KINSFOLK, OUR FATHER BEING DEAD; ANDHOW THEY BEHAVED THEMSELVES TOWARD US. 

Think, however, that the troubles that now lie upon us might not havebeen ours had not our father died when he did, which was the cause ofour being taken into the house of our mother's sister, Mrs. MargaretGolding;--a happy thing we then thought it, that she would receive us, for we were in great straits;--so I will begin my history at that sadperiod. 

Our father, William Dacre, was indeed a gentleman, born to a competentestate, and married into an honest stock and to some fortune, but hisfair prospects were all blighted and our mother's money well-nigh wastedbefore he died. To his great loss, he stood steadily for the kingagainst the Parliament all through the late Rebellion, as he would evercall it; and, our mother's people being very stiff on the other side, and she dying while we were little children, we were sundered from themwhile our father lived. He took such care of us as he could, striving tobreed us up like gentlewomen; sometimes we lived with him in Londonlodgings, sometimes were left at his manor-house of Milthorpe; but thelast two years of his life were very uneasy to him and to us. 

For when the young king, Charles the Second, was brought in again, fiveyears agone, our father was drawn up to Court by some I will not name, who tempted him with hopes of preferments and rewards to recompense hisloyalty. He wasted his means much through the ill counsel of these falsefriends, but obtained no fruit of their promises, and at last he diedsuddenly; whether broken-hearted or not I leave to the judgment of God, and to the consciences of the men who for their own ends had betrayedhim into those vain expectations. At that time Althea was barelynineteen, and I a little past sixteen; we had no brother nor othersister. 

We were then at Milthorpe; and thither our father was brought to beburied. That was a black time for us. Though lately we had been keptapart from our father, we loved him dearly, and we knew of no otherfriend and protector. And when the funeral was over we could not tellwhich way to turn; for we found our father's land must needs pass to thenext male heir, Mr. John Dacre, our distant cousin. He, I know not how, had contrived to thrive where our father had decayed, and had gotten agood share of favour at the new Court. 

My memory offers things past to me as if in separate pictures, this andthat accident that befell us showing much more clear and bright thanthings quite as important which lie between. I remember but dimly allthe sad time of our father's death and burial, the grief I myself felt, and all the bustle and stir about us, making those days cloudy to me;but all the more plainly I remember a certain day that followed thefuneral, when Althea and I were sitting together in a little parlourwhere we had been wont to sew, --I weeping on her neck, and she trying toturn my thoughts from my grief with planning how we two shouldlive, --when, the door opening, some one came briskly in who called us byour names. 

'What, Althea! what, Lucy! All in the dumps, and not a word to say toyour mother's own sister?' and, in great surprise, we looked up on ouraunt, whom we had seen but once since our mother died, when we werequite little. She was looking kindly on us; her eyes were quick, black, and sparkling, but had something very tender in them at that moment. Inoticed directly how plain she was as to her clothes, wearing a commoncountry-made riding-suit, all of black, and how her shape was a littletoo plump for her low stature, while her comely face was tanned quitebrown with the sun; but methought the kind look she bent on us was evensweeter because of her homely aspect. So I got up and ran to her, holding out both my hands; but she took me into her arms, and kissed melovingly, saying, --

'Poor lamb! poor fatherless, motherless lamb! thou shalt feel no lack ofa mother while I live. '

Then, holding me in one arm, she stretched out the other hand to Althea, who had come up more slowly, and she said, --

'And you too, my fair lady-niece; I have room in my heart for the two ofyou, if you will come in;' on which the water stood in Althea's eyes, and she took our aunt's hand and kissed it, saying, --

'God reward you, madam, for your goodness to us desolate orphans! Ireceive it most thankfully. '

'That's well, ' quoth our aunt cordially. And she proceeded to tell ushow, when she got the news of our father's death, she made haste to comedown to Milthorpe. 'Not that I hoped, ' said she, 'to be here in time forthe burying; but it was borne in on my mind there should be a friend ofour side of the house to stand by you. Is Mr. Dacre here?'

'He came down to the funeral, ' said Althea, 'and hath spoken to us onsome small business matters; but he has been constantly out of thehouse, riding about the estate, and so we have seen little of him. '

As she said this the door opened again, and our cousin, the new masterof Milthorpe, entered. I had scarce noted his looks, being drowned in mygrief at the time when, as Althea said, he had talked with us onbusiness, accounting to us for some moneys, the poor wreck of ourfortunes, which had been lodged in his hands; but I now thought what agrand gentleman he looked in his rich mourning suit; and indeed he wasof a very graceful appearance, and smiled on us most courtly. He heldhis plumed hat in his hand, and, bowing low to our aunt, --

'I am much honoured, ' said he, 'that Mrs. Golding should grace my poorhouse with her presence before I have had time to sue for it. Will itplease you, ladies, to step into the dining-parlour and sit down with meto a homely refection I have ordered to be spread there? I must returnto-day to town; so if Mrs. Golding will bestow half an hour of her timeon me to talk over some needful matters, I shall take it as a favour. '

Mrs. Golding bent her head to him, saying, 'At your pleasure, sir;' andwe followed to the dining-room, where we found what I should have calleda plentiful dinner, but Mr. Dacre kept excusing its meanness at everydish he offered us. This was very grating to Althea, seeming areflection both on our ways at Milthorpe and on our poor old faithfulservants; and Mrs. Golding liked it no better. I saw her turning veryred; and at last she said bluntly, --

'The dinner is all very well, and I think Margery cook needs not so manyexcuses; so will you please leave speaking of meats and drinks, and turnto the needful matters you spoke of instead?'

'I might have chosen, ' says Mr. Dacre, 'to talk to you in private firstabout those things; but perhaps it's as well my fair cousins should hearat once what I have to say. I am a married man, as you know, Mrs. Golding; and my wife loves the town, and cannot endure to hear of acountry life. I have no hope she will ever live at the Manor here. But Iwill not let it; and I shall want it kept in good order against mycoming down, which will be frequent. So if my cousin, Mistress Althea, likes to remain here as housekeeper, she will be very welcome. '

'And what do you think of paying her for her services?' said our aunt. 

Mr. Dacre lifted his eyebrows, and looked at her as if much surprised. 'She would have meat and lodging free, ' said he, 'and servants to do herbidding. Also, if she can make anything by keeping of a dairy, or offowls, or selling of fruit from the gardens, or such like devices ofcountry dames, I shall ask no account of her gains; and if hermanagement pleases me, I shall find a broad piece for her from time totime, I doubt not; so she may do very well. '

'And is her sister, Mistress Lucia, to dwell in your house and receiveyour bounty also?' said Mrs. Golding. 

'That made no part of my plans, ' said he, smiling and bowing. 'I shallhardly need two housekeepers here. '

'Then it may chance you must look otherwhere for your one housekeeper, 'said Mrs. Golding. 'What sayest, Althea? Wilt be parted from thy sisterthat thou mayest have the honour of keeping house for so liberal akinsman and master? or wilt go with Lucy and me to my farm, at WestFazeby, where you two shall be to me as daughters? for I am a childlesswidow, and will gladly cherish you young things. The choice lies beforeyou, Althea. '

Althea was now red as any rose; and the tears' that had been in her eyesseemed turned to sparks of fire. She rose from the table and made a deepcurtsey to Mr. Dacre. 

'I am exceeding grateful for your preference of me, ' she said; 'butseeing I am only a young maid, and inexpert in the management of ahouse, I must beg to refuse your princely offer'--she spoke withinfinite scorn--'and betake myself instead to the home Mrs. Golding willgive me, where I may improve myself, and become fitter in time, both inyears and skill, for some such post as you would now prefer me to. ' Shestopped and panted, being quite out of breath. 

Mr. Dacre did but lift his eyebrows again and say, 'As you will, madam, ' and then begged she would sit down and finish eating; but sheremained standing, and looked pitifully at Mrs. Golding; on which ouraunt rose also, and I doing the same, --

'You go to town to-day, I think you said?' questioned Mrs. Golding; 'wewill therefore take our leave of you now, not to importune you further. My nieces and I will endeavour to be gone from here to-morrow, so pleaseyou to endure their presence in their father's house until then; for youmust think it will ask a few hours for them to remove their apparel andother goods. '

'Assuredly, madam; they have full liberty, ' said Mr. Dacre, rising andbowing, and, for a wonder, looking a little abashed. 

'And I think it were well we lost no time, ' continued our aunt. 

So we took our leave of him gladly enough, and I think he was full asglad to have us go; and we went back to the little parlour. 

'I guessed what sort of kindness John Dacre would show you, ' said ouraunt, looking at us with a smile. 'Your father, my sweet maidens, ofwhom you have a heavy loss indeed, was of a much nobler nature thanthis his kinsman; and it's doubtless for that reason that one of themhas thriven in the bad air where the other could not thrive, butperished;' and then came tears into her lively black eyes, and she wasfain to sit down and weep awhile, in which we bore her company. 

Then Althea wiped her eyes, and said, with a trembling voice, --

'I cannot think, however, why our cousin should make so strange aproffer to me--one so unfitting for a well-taught maiden to accept. '

'He made it that you might refuse it, child, ' said our aunt. 'Now he cantruly say he was willing to do somewhat for you, and that you would noneof it, but thought scorn of his goodwill. It hath ever been his way toget much credit for little goodness. Well, Lucy, child, what artthinking of?'

'I was thinking, ' stammered I, surprised with her question, --'I wasthinking that the day is not so far spent but we could get away fromMilthorpe before night. I wish not to sleep under Mr. Dacre's roofagain. '

'That might be managed, ' said Mrs. Golding; 'I left my horses and my menat the little inn in your village, where I had some thought of sleepingmyself. And yet it's but a little inn; nor should I care to turn Andrewout of his lodging even to please thee, pretty Lucy. No, child; put thyhand to some work and thy pride in thy pocket, and submit even to spendone night in the house of an unkind kinsman. He will not be in it, thouknowest; see where he rides out of the gate. '

So I looked and saw Mr. Dacre riding off, a very grand gentleman on histall black horse, with his men, also well mounted, following him. 

'He will be in town before nightfall, ' quoth Mrs. Golding. 

It did not seem so insupportable to stay one more night in our old home, now its new master had left it; but I was in haste to be gone for allthat, and Althea too; so we fell to work with great eagerness, gatheringall our own possessions together and packing them for removal; whileMrs. Golding helped us with her hands and her counsel; and so well weworked that the sun had not gone down before we had all in readiness forour departure in the early morning; for it was the height of summer, andthe days therefore long. Then Mrs. Golding would have us take her intothe garden and show us what used to be our mother's favourite walks andalcoves; there was a good prospect of the house from one of them, andshe stood some time regarding it. 

'It's a stately place, ' said she, --'a very noble house indeed, and afair garden too. Your mother had a pride in it once, I know; and therewas a time when it would have grieved her sore to think how her childrenshould leave it. But what signifies that to her now?--a happy, glorifiedspirit, who may scorn the transitory riches and joys of this poor world, which are far outvalued by one ray shining on us from the Father ofLights. At His right hand are pleasures for evermore. '

Althea and I looked on each other surprised, for we had then heardlittle of that kind of talk; and, our aunt espying it, --

'Ah, children, ' she said, 'I have learnt a new language since I saw you, and I see you know it not; but your mother could speak it before Icould. I think thou art most like her, Lucy; there is more of your poorfather about Althea. '

I looked at Althea and thought Mrs. Golding was not much mistaken; forif I were to write my sister's description, it would need but the changeof a word or two to make it pass for a portrait of my father. Like him, she is tall and slender and well-shaped; her complexion pale and clear, her hair almost black, very thick, softer than the finest silk, andcurling in loose rings at the ends; her brows and eyelashes black also, but her eyes a blue-grey, appearing black when she is much moved or indeep thought; and she moves with admirable grace, showing a kind ofnobleness in all her carriage. Myself am of low stature, and of shapenothing like so slender; indeed one hath told me I am dark and round asa blackheart cherry; so I could well think that at Mrs. Golding's yearsI should be very like her, though perhaps less comely. 

Mrs. Golding was still comparing us with each other and speaking of ourparents, when I was aware of a tall man coming up to the garden gate;and my aunt, turning as she heard the latch clink, cried, --

'Ah, here is Andrew! he will have come to have my orders for the night;I think we may welcome him in, nieces. ' So she stepped to him, andtaking him by the hand led him to us. 'This, ' quoth she, 'is myhusband's nephew and mine, but he is something more--he is my stewardand my heir. I hold him for my son; I were but a lost woman without him. He would not hear of my coming to Milthorpe with no company but that ofmy serving-men, but must needs be my conductor himself; so precious ajewel as I was sure to be lost in the hedges otherwise;' and she laughedcordially. 'And, Andrew, these are two poor fatherless girls, Althea andLucia Dacre by name; fatherless, I say, but not motherless, for I amtheir mother from this day forth, and so they are your sisters; see youuse them kindly. '

Andrew coloured up to his hair, and bowed to us, with some confusedwords about the honour of being as a brother to such gentle ladies; thenhe turned to her and they talked of our morrow's journey, and how ourmails should be conveyed; and Mrs. Golding, telling him she would sleepat the Manor, bade him be early at the gate with horses for us; 'for wehave many a mile to go, ' she said to us; 'and make what speed we may, weshall be a day or two on the road. '

And Althea spoke very prettily to Mr. Golding, praying him to sup withus; but he excused himself, still in a confused and disturbed way, andwent away. 

While he stood and talked I was able to take note of his aspect, and Ithought he looked a very homely youth indeed, after Mr. Dacre, though hewas taller and of a better shape, and I believe a better face too;though burnt with the sun, and ruddy like a country-man, he hadwell-cut features and a full mild eye, with a right pleasant smile. Buthis garb was so ordinary, being of some dark cloth, and cut veryplainly, and his hat with no feather in it, that though I had littlecause to love Mr. Dacre, yet I wished our new friend was more like himoutwardly, and thought I should then have been prouder to ride in hiscompany. And Mrs. Golding praising him to us, and saying how good hewas, and wise beyond his years, I thought it was pity such good peopleas he and she did not go handsomer; so little I knew of what belonged togoodness. 

CHAPTER II. 

HOW WE JOURNEYED UP TO YORKSHIRE; AND HOW WE WERE WELCOMED THERE. 

Though I remember so plainly what passed on our last day in MilthorpeManor-house, I am not very clear about our journey up to Yorkshire, which was tedious enough. We kept to the king's highway, and yet weresometimes put in much fear of thieves, but happily we fell in with none;the only notable thing that befell us was in leaving a little markettown, I cannot call to mind its name, where we had stopped to dine. Wehad ridden but a little way forth of the town when we heard a great dinof shouting and hooting behind us, which made us women afraid; andpresently a noisy rabblement of people came running up. They werechiefly of the baser sort, both men and women, some very ragged, andsome red-faced and half tipsy; one or two gentlemen in laced coats rodeamong them. I thought at first they had some spite at us, but it provednot so. We drew to the wayside to let them pass, and they went by, verydisorderly, yelling and swearing, the women not less than the men, pushing and hauling some poor creature dragged along in their midst. Ilooked earnestly to see who it might be, and presently discerned theperson--a tall thin man, in a kind of loose garment girded about him, and I think it was made of some hempen stuff, a kind of sacking. Thisman was very pale, with longish dark hair hanging about his face, which, as I say, was pale indeed, but not dismayed; I think he even smiled whenone struck him on the head, and another, pushing him, bade him, with acurse, go faster. I saw the blood trickling a little from the blow thathad alighted on his head, as they hurried him past. 

Andrew, who saw all this as well as I did, looked full of horror. Hecaught one of the hindmost of the rabble by the sleeve and asked himharshly, 'What has this man done, and whither are you taking him?' Atwhich the man, turning towards us his red, jovial face, replies, --

'It's a mad Quaker, that took upon him this noon to stand up in ourmarket-place, it being market day and every one mighty busy, and hetells us all to our face we were a set of cheating rogues, that he hadmarked our doings and seen how bad they were, and that he had acommission from God to bid us repent and amend, or a sudden dreadfuljudgment should fall on us. Didst ever hear of such a fool?'

'And what more did he, ' says Andrew, 'to make you handle him soroughly?' at which the man stared and said, --

'Nay, what more needed there? Matters are come to a pretty pass if freeEnglishmen, who are pleased to cheat and be cheated according to thefashion of this world, mayn't do so neighbourly and kindly without somecanting rogue starting up to control them. We bade him hold his peacefor a mad ass, but he would not. So we judged his frenzy to be somethingtoo hot, and that a cold bath were good to cure it; and Squire, ridingup and seeing the bustle we were in, offered us his own duck-pond forthe ducking of our preacher. Stay me no longer! I shall lose the bestsport;' and Andrew snatching at him again to make him stay, he brokefrom him and ran as hard as he could after the crowd, that was now gotsome way from us. 

'You hear and see this, Mrs. Golding?' says Andrew, turning to her, hismild countenance grown dark with anger. 'There may be murder done yet, let me ride after and see what I can do to hinder it;' and setting spursto his horse he galloped off after the rabble. We saw him pressing inamong them, riding close up to the chief horseman, talking earnestly tohim; then we saw no more of them, they going round the turn of the road;and Mrs. Golding, half frowning, half smiling, says, --

'It's ever so with Andrew! he cannot see mischief a-foot but he is allafire to stop it. I like it in the lad, but I wish yon poor fanatic hadbeen content to stay at home and mind his own business, instead ofcrossing us so unluckily here. ' She looked anxiously. 

Presently Andrew comes back to us, riding pretty quickly, and Mrs. Golding called to him, --

'Now, my lad, hast not gone on a fool's errand this time also?' but hesaid smiling, --

'That is as you take it, good mother. Yon Squire has some humanity inhim, and some wit; for when I began vehemently to urge how sinful werethe murdering of yon poor man, he smiled and let me know his proffer ofthe duck-pond was but to get the man out of the hands of hisill-wishers, for he meant to draw the Quaker within his gates and thenhave them shut as if by mistake on the rabble, who were already growingaweary with the length of the way, and so were dropping off by twos andthrees. '

'So thou hast had thy labour for thy pains?' says Mrs. Golding, smilingas one well pleased. 

'Not altogether, ' said Andrew, 'for the Squire wills us to turn into thebyway here, and keep from the high road awhile, lest we meet the baserrascals coming back, in all their fury and disappointment. '

'Good counsel, ' said Mrs. Golding; 'we will take it. ' And so we kept tothat byway for a mile or so; and it was rough uneasy riding, though apretty green lane enough. 

Althea said to me half aside, 'We had had none of these discomforts, ifwe had ridden as we were wont with our father, in a good coach likegentlewomen, and not a-horseback in the country fashion;' the firstdiscontented word she had said, and Mrs. Golding hearing it, --

'Child, ' said she, 'I cannot away with these coaches, they are proudlazy inventions, and nothing like so wholesome as this our old countryfashion of travelling;' at which Althea blushed and said nothing more, and Mrs. Golding began pleasantly to chide Andrew for his hazarding ofour safety as he had done, which had put Althea into these discontents;and he hung his head, smiling, and had not a word to say for himself. Ishould scarce have remembered this accident, or Andrew's behaviour onit, had it not been for things that befell after. 

I was heartily weary of journeying by the time we got to West Fazeby;the way was long, the manner of travelling new to me, I had not so muchas slept at an inn before, our former home being no great distance fromtown; and my company was not such as to shorten the way, for AuntGolding was the only frank and cheerful-spoken person in our party, Althea behaving, as I told her, like an enchanted princess in a fairytale, so melancholy, proud, and silent, and Andrew being so dashed withher stately ways that the poor youth was not less tongue-tied than she. So I was glad indeed when we rode out of York one fine morning, and Mrs. Golding told us we must reach her house before the day was out; in whichshe said no more than truth. 

She having always talked of it as a poor farmhouse, our surprise was notlittle when we saw it at last. It stands a little away from thevillage; it is no great house, but is a right fair one to my thinking, built of red brick, with a great deal of wood, handsomely carved, aboutthe gables and the porch; it is much grown with ivy, at which our auntwould often rail, but I think for all that she loved it, seeing it makesthe house green and pleasant even in winter. And at the back, lookinginto the gardens and orchards, was a pleasant porch, a very large one, grown with roses as well as ivy, wherein Althea and I have spent many ahappy hour in summer-time, sitting there with our needlework or ourlutes. I can see it in fancy, and would very fain be in it, looking onour lily beds and green walks and arbours, instead of these hot anddreary streets. But it's too likely I shall never see West Fazeby or anyother pleasant place on earth again. 

A good comely man and woman, plainly habited like serving folks, cameforth to greet Mrs. Golding, and she commended us to them much as shehad done to Andrew, saying to us, 'These are Matthew Standfast and hiswife Grace; good, kind souls, who look well to my house when I cannot doit. And how doth little Patience?' she went on to ask Dame Standfast;'and have you seen aught of Mr. Truelocke while I have been gone?' andso chatting she led us into the hall, where we found a table readycovered, and the little Patience Standfast ready to attend us at it, apretty child, fair-haired and blue-eyed, very civil and modest. We werenot long in finding that she and her parents, with a serving-man or two, made all my aunt's household; and that she did very much work with herown hands, and would expect the like of us; a thing which displeasedAlthea not a little, but she said nothing of it, only to me, when wewere got to our own chamber. 

'And it is an odd thing, ' she continued, when I did not reply, 'thatMrs. Golding should sit and should take her meals in the open hall, whenthere are one or two fair parlours more fitting for her occupation. '

'But the hall is a pleasant place, ' I said; and indeed it was so to me, I hardly know why, being a very plain apartment, with a checkeredpavement of blue and white stones, and furnished only with bright oakentables and settles, and a great chair or two; also the great fireplacewas well garnished with green boughs and flowers, it being summer. Ilooked all about it that evening as we sat in it chatting with our aunt, and was thinking I should always like it, plain as it was, when I wasaware of two persons coming into the porch, one walking feebly like anold man, and one stepping firmly and strongly; and Mrs. Golding, springing up, ran forward to greet them, saying, --

'Welcome! welcome, good Mr. Truelocke! this is a greater kindness than Ihad hoped for;' so she drew into the light of our candles a reverend oldgentleman, clad in a black gown; he had white hair hanging about hisface, and in his hand a stout staff on which he leaned as he walked. There came at his side a young, strongly-framed man, in a seaman'shabit, who, I thought, looked something like him, having the same strongfeatures, but a clear, merry blue eye and brown curling hair; he wasvery watchful over the old gentleman, who seemed to move feebly. Ouraunt greeted him kindly by the name of 'Master Harry, ' and said, 'It'sgood of you to bring your father up so soon to welcome me, ' whereon theyoung man smiled and said, --

'Nay, it is he that hath brought me; there was no holding him when hehad heard of your return. I would gladly have kept him within doors, fearing the night damps for him;' and our aunt laughed also, and said tous, --

'Come, Althea, come, Lucy, and speak to my best friend, who was a goodfriend to your mother also; it is the parson of this parish, Mr. Truelocke, and this his son Harry, newly come home from the seas;' sowe came up and greeted the old gentleman reverently, and his son askindly as we might; and Mrs. Golding put Mr. Truelocke into a greatarmed chair, and sat looking at him with vast contentment. He looked ather and smiled a wonderfully sweet smile. 

'Had you brought these young maids home a month or two later, Mrs. Golding, ' says he, 'you could not truly tell them I was the parson ofthis parish or of any other. But we'll let that pass;' and turning to ushe began to speak to us kindly and fatherly, pitying our afflictions, and bidding us praise and thank God, who had raised up so good a friendto help us. I was glad to hear his words, though they brought the tearsinto mine eyes; but our aunt sat impatiently, and presently broke in onhis discourse, saying, --

'What mean you, sir, by telling me in a month or two you will be noparson of this parish? is there anything new?'

'Nothing, but the falling of a full-ripe fruit, that began to blossomtwo years agone, ' says the old gentleman cheerfully; 'it hath been longa-ripening, 'twas time it should fall. '

'Give me none of your parables, good friend; I want plain speech, 'cries our aunt; and Master Harry said bluntly, --

'Madam, it's all along of the new Act for Uniformity which was printedand set forth this last May. You were too full at that time of yourapprehensions for these young ladies to be curious to read thatmischievous Act; but, since it touches my father nearly, he mastered itsmeaning with great pains, and has thought of little else for many days;and the upshot of all this is, that next Bartholomew-tide he will goforth, like Abraham of old, to wander he knows not whither;' at whichwords Mrs. Golding sighed deeply, and sat as one amazed. 

'It is even so, my kind friend, ' said Mr. Truelocke, smiling. 

'Well, I can't tell what you may think here of the matter, ' went onMaster Harry; 'but in my conscience, I think my father's consciencesomething too tender. '

'You speak like a man of this world, Harry, ' says Andrew, who had comein, and was looking at the young man with frowning brows and angry eyes. 

'How else would you have me speak?' says Harry. 'I am but a plainsailor, and I pretend not to know any world but this work-a-day worldthat I have to get my bread in. I leave the new worlds in the moon, orbeyond it, to poets and madmen; and I'll tell you my mind of the matter, if you will hear me. 

He stopped, and Mrs. Golding said, 'Speak your mind, Master Harry, it'sever an honest mind, and full of goodwill. '

'I will venture then, ' said he, 'and do you bear with me, Andrew, andfather too. I take it the Church of this country is a good ship that hasto sail whither her owners will. A while since they were all forsteering her straight to the Presbyterian port; now that voyage likesthem not, and they would have her make for Prelacy. It's pity that thegood ship has owners of such inconstant minds; but why should not thecrew obey orders, and sail the ship as they are bid?'

'Wrong, all wrong, all wrong, Harry, my boy, ' said the old man, with agroan; 'thou hast no spiritual sense of these things. How dare Christ'sliegemen take their orders from the carnal rulers of this or any othercountry? Have I not seen the government of England change like the moon, ay, and more strangely? and shall I follow the changing moon as doth thefaithless sea, ebbing and flowing in my zeal for truth like the tide?Nay verily! what was God's truth in Oliver's days is the truth of Godstill; and I will cleave to it. '

As I gazed at the old man's face, pale and wrinkled and awful, I thoughtthat so might have looked the prophet Moses when he brake the tables ofthe Law. Mr. Truelocke's deepset dark eyes flashed fire under his longwhite eyebrows, which themselves seemed to stir and to rise and fall, ashe spoke with great passion, and he struck his staff against the floor. 

Althea was looking from one to another, something puzzled; presently hersilver voice broke the silence that had fallen upon us; she said, 'Allthat you say is so dark to me, it makes me feel like a fool for my lackof comprehension; will you, madam, tell me in a few words what it isthat troubles you and Mr. Truelocke?'

'It's our new masters, dear heart, who have been making of new laws, 'said Mrs. Golding; and Andrew added instantly, --

'Our pastors, madam, must consent to renounce the Covenant, and must usethe Common Prayer-Book as newly set forth by authority of King Charlesthe Second and his Parliament; or they must leave to preach and to prayin the churches called of England, and must renounce their livings too;and this by the twenty-fourth of August next, which the Papists andsuch-like cattle call St. Bartholomew's Day. That is the story in littleof the doings which afflict our good mother and our reverend friend. '

'It's a dry short setting forth of the matter, friend Andrew, ' said theold man. 

'But is it a true one?' asked Althea. 

'Yea, ' said he, 'too true, this is the new law; but I shall, as I think, follow after the footsteps of godly Mr. Baxter; he hath already ceasedpreaching, that his weaker brethren, such as I, may be in no manner ofdoubt as to what he thinketh. I shall not change my mind twice, oncehaving seen the great error of my early prelatical opinions, --as yourgood aunt knoweth I have seen it. '

'Well, ' said Mrs. Golding, sighing heavily, 'we will pray you may haveillumination from above. I cannot tell how we shall do, bereft of ourfather in Christ. But I dare not urge any man against his conscience. And now am I ashamed that you have been so long within my doors and Ihave yet set nothing before you. Lucy, Althea, come help me;' and shebustled about, and presently with our help had set a dish ofstrawberries and cream, with nuts and cakes and wine, before our guests. Mr. Truelocke ate but little, which grieved my aunt; and he would drinknothing but spring water. But Harry was gay enough for two. We could gethim to touch nothing until he had both of us girls served, he saying wewere greater strangers than he. And since I chose to eat nuts, he woulddo the same, and would crack all mine for me. He had a clever way ofdoing this with his hands only, which were small, but like iron forstrength; I made a cup of my hands that he might pour the sweet kernelsinto it, and so doing we scattered some on the floor, and both dropt onour knees to pick them up, when I, being nimbler than he, had them allsnatched up before he could touch one; then we both laughed heartily. Iwas startled to hear myself laughing, and looked at Althea; and sheseemed to be regarding me with scorn as if she despised me perfectly, soI checked my laughing and sat down quite crestfallen. 

Then Harry, sitting by me, half whispered, 'Now, sweet madam, if you didbut know what music a heart-free laugh is to mine ears, you would notstop yours in the middle. I have no quarrel with my father's nor youraunt's piety, but there's too little laughing in it. '

'It's not piety that checks me now, ' I said; 'do not credit me withmore than I have; but a new-made orphan like me might well feel itsomething heartless to be very mirthful. '

'That's it, is it?' said he, looking comically from me to Althea, andthen at me again. 'Now tell me, sweet lady, if you know any good reasonwhy mirth should be a thing forbid to those who have had a cruel loss?If in the middle of a winter voyage, when the stormy winds do blow, wemariners should have one fair sunshine day, we don't spend it inbemoaning the black days that went before and the black days that willcome after. '

'And what has that to do with me and my griefs?' asked I. 

'Only this, ' said he, 'that you should not be less wise than a sailorlad; think no shame to be glad when your heart bids you, whateversorrows lie before or behind you. And I'll keep you in countenance, whenever I see your fair mournful sister reproving your gaiety with hereyes; but you must do the same by me with my father and your aunt. Is ita bargain? strike hands on it!'

He held out his hand, and I put mine into it--I could not help it;though I stole a look at Althea, but her attention was drawn away byAndrew, who was half timidly urging her to eat some more of Mrs. Golding's dainties; she would not, however; and presently Mr. Truelocke, who had been talking apart with Mrs. Golding, got up and would be going;so when he and Harry were withdrawn, we all went shortly to our beds, being very weary; and for my part I felt that I was in a new world Icould not half understand; but there seemed some pleasant things in it. 

I liked it better still as the days ran on. Country life at West Fazebywas more to my mind than ever it had been at Milthorpe. There we werewaited on dutifully by kind old servants, and might not soil our fingersby any coarse work. Here I was taken into the dairy and the still-room, and instructed in their mysteries, and in many another useful householdart; I might feed the pigeons and the other pretty feathered folk in thebarnyard, and I got no reproof for my coarse tastes when I was foundlearning from Grace Standfast how to milk a cow, and making acquaintancewith young foals and calves. There were prettier works too; gatheringand making conserve of roses, and sharing in the pleasant harvest of thestrawberry beds and the cherry orchard, or tossing of hay in themeadows. I will not deny that all these things were more pleasant to methat year than they have ever been since; partly because I was so newto them, and partly because Harry Truelocke often took part in themalso. My merry and kind playfellow, I wonder if you have yet any heartfor such simple pleasures? or if, in the midst of miseries and perils, you can still jest and laugh?

Althea went with me and shared in these occupations, except in thehaymaking and the milking; but she did so with a grave and serious air, seeming to give her whole mind to the work, as if it were a task she hadto learn, whereas I thought it but a delightful pastime that I loved inspite of its being profitable. 

Mrs. Golding took no note, as it seemed, of Althea's sad and steadfastways; but Andrew marked them, I could see, though, being daily busy without-door matters and cares of our aunt's estate, he was but little inour company. When he was with us, he surrounded Althea with a careful, watchful kindness, treating her so reverently as if she were some sacredthing, and indeed never venturing to say much to her unless she spokefirst; all which she never appeared to notice. 

Now it is a strange thing that in this pretty peaceful time thestormiest day and the fruitfullest of future mischiefs should have beena certain Lord's Day, only a week or two after our coming. It was fromMr. Truelocke that I learnt to say 'the Lord's Day, ' Sunday, said he, being a heathenish, idolatrous word, nor would he allow of the fashionof calling the day of rest 'the Sabbath. ' 'We keep not holy, ' said he, 'the seventh-day Sabbath of the people of Israel, but the first day madeholy for us by the resurrection of our Lord;' and I saying idly to him, out of the poet Shakespeare, whom my father loved, --

 'What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet, '--

he looked sternly, almost angrily on me, and said, 'Madam, what haveends of stage-plays, and the idle talk of a lovesick girl about herlover's name and the names of flowers, --I say, what have these vanitiesto do with a glorious divine thing like the Christian's Day of Rest? Andbelieve me, there is much in names, too much in names. What a spell toconjure with is the name of King! and the name of Priest may make wildwork in our poor England yet. '

I was dumb when he reproved me thus; and thinking of it after, I beganto have some glimmering why this good man should resolve to give up hisall, rather than use a Prayer-Book he deemed not according to rightdoctrine, since he was so earnest about the right name for one holy day. I found it to be a strong point with him, some of his flock murmuring athim about it, and saying how could we appeal to the Fourth Commandmentif our holy day might not be called the Sabbath? But he cared not fortheir words; no, nor for king, nor for Parliament, compared with what hedeemed right. 

I used to wonder if his heart would have been so stout had he had wifeand children to care for; but he had been many years widowed, and Harry, his only child, had carved his own way in the world, being now partowner of the ship he sailed himself. 

But by whatever name folks called it, the Lord's Day in West Fazeby wasthen a sweet, religious, holy day, and I loved it. Alas, to think of thechanges wicked men have made!

CHAPTER III. 

HOW MR. TRUELOCKE PREACHED HIS LAST SERMON IN WEST FAZEBY. 

On that Lord's Day of which I spoke, the weather was fair and brightwhen we went to worship in the church where Mr. Truelocke stillministered. Week after week more people came to hear him, for the timewas growing short, and he was much loved; so this day the church wasthronged, and we had some ado to get to our own places. As I said, theday was fair enough when we set forth, a little too hot, indeed; but wehad not been long at our prayers before there came a gloom and adarkness, making the church full of shadows; and I saw the sky throughthe windows of a strange greenish and coppery colour. 

We were singing the hymn before the sermon, when I was aware of a tallman in a whitish garment standing directly below the pulpit, still as astone; it seemed to me I had seen him once before. When the singing wasdone, and we were all in readiness to hear the sermon, this man suddenlystood up on the bench, so that even in the dusky light every one couldsee his tall white figure, and, looking up to Mr. Truelocke in thepulpit, he said, --

'May I have liberty to speak a few words to this people?'

'You have liberty, ' said Mr. Truelocke; then, folding his arms on thedesk, he leaned forward and looked very intently on the man, who hadturned himself to face the people. They were all rustling and stirringin their places, very uneasy at the interruption. He stretched out hisarms in the form of a cross, and began to speak in a full and richvoice, very musical, with strange changes in it; and always the sky grewdarker in the great window behind him while he spoke. 

'Friends, ' said he, 'I have listened earnestly to your singing; and nowI am constrained to speak to you and tell you the words you sang werevery unsuitable to your state. For the words were those of holy, humblesouls, who are athirst after God; and how many of you be there thatcould truly answer Yea, if one should ask whether you are come herebecause you hunger and thirst after righteousness? Is it not true thatthe best of you only take delight in the preaching of the man who standsin yon pulpit, because it is to you as a very lovely song of one thatcan play on a pleasant instrument? but you hear his words, and do themnot. And there be some of you that only come here to display your gayapparel, caring not how foul you are within, if you are but fairwithout; and some of you appear here weekly, because it is a decent andseemly thing to be here, and you desire the praise of men, though youcare not for pleasing God. Your religious worships and ways are vain, for they are made up only of speaking and singing other men's words, which are not yours, nor do ye mean them truly. You were better to sitin humble silence before God, waiting till His Spirit, that enlightenethevery man, should speak in secret to your spirit. 

'And I have a word to thee, Emanuel Truelocke, ' he continued, suddenlyturning, lifting his long right arm and pointing his long finger towardsMr. Truelocke, whose pale countenance, framed in his long white hair, could still be seen looking quietly at him. 'I desire to speak to theein love, and show thee the secret of thy ill success in thy ministeringsto this worldly people, who have not the excellent spirit that I gladlyacknowledge in thyself. The canker of gold has been on theseministerings of thine, for thou hast yearly taken hire for them; andtherefore it is that so many of these people are cold and sickly indivine things. But the Lord hath had mercy on thee, and will take awayfrom thee the mammon whereby thou hast been deceived; and for thy sake Irejoice in thy coming downfall'--

Here there began a mighty hubbub in the place. Men stood up on benches, shaking their sticks and clenched fists against the speaker; womencried, 'Shame on him! pull him down! have him away!' and many rushedupon him, struck him, dragged him down, and would soon have trampled himunder their feet, but Mr. Truelocke spoke with a voice that rang like atrumpet, and said, --

'Do the man no harm; for shame, my brethren! Did not I tell him he hadliberty to speak? Make me not a liar by your violence!' and then I sawseveral men, Andrew and Harry being foremost, raising up the stranger, for he had been felled to his knees pushing off those who were strikinghim, and leading him forth of the church. Then a mighty flash oflightning glared through the building, and a great peal of thunderroared and echoed after it, and the rain rushing down like a torrentdrove and beat against the windows. The stranger, who had been got tothe door, now turned round, crying, --

'Hearken, O people, to the voice of the Lord bearing witness againstyour madness!' with which words he vanished, friendly hands pulling himout of sight against his will. 

A great silence seemed at once to fall upon the people, while the stormblazed and thundered on; and in the midst of it Mr. Truelocke began hisdiscourse. 

'My brethren, ' said he, 'I did not think to have been so cruelly put toshame as I have been by you this day. Long have I toiled to make youfollow His righteousness, who, when He was reviled, reviled not again;long have I trusted that you were indeed partakers of that Spirit whosefruits are love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness. Alas!what longsuffering, what peace, what gentleness have you shown to-day?Ye have well-nigh done a man to death in the very house of God, andbefore the eyes of me your pastor. I stand rebuked here, a teacherwhose teaching is proved useless and fruitless. From this day forth Iwill preach to you no more, but will lay down, a little before the lawtakes it from me, the office I have so ill discharged. Now hearken to meonce more, and once only; and let not my last sermon prove so idle asthose I have preached to you before. '

With this preamble, which struck every one into awe, he began to preachwith an uncommon fervour, as one who was all on fire to have men turnfrom their sins, and to close with the offers of God's mercy while yetit was time; and this earnestness of his, and a certain passionatetenderness in his looks and tones, something more than ordinary, wouldnot let us forget the resolve he had expressed. His text was, 'How shallwe escape if we neglect so great salvation?' and having enlarged on itwith such piercing eloquence as I have spoken of, and come to an end ofhis discourse, he made a little pause, and then said, --

'Little as I like to mingle any private matters of mine own with themessage I stand here to deliver, I had determined, when I should comebefore you for the last time, to say something of the reasons why Icannot comply with what our rulers require of us. I will not departfrom that determination because a strange cause has moved me to lay downmine office some few days sooner than law requires. ' He stopped amoment, looking troubled; then he resumed: 'Not my own humour, nor thepride of a vain consistency, holds me back from compliance. I havesought in prayer, and in study, and in discourse with my brethren, forlight on this matter; but in my mind is something still unsatisfied thatbids me persevere in my fixed opinion, so long adopted; I can do noother. Therefore, submitting patiently to leave my church and my flock, I pray your pardon for any fault I make in this resolution; of God'spardon I am assured. '

Having said thus, he bowed his fatherly head, praying inwardly, and allthe congregation wept and prayed with him, though many of themafterwards showed themselves highly displeased with the way he had takenof rebuking their violence; also great efforts were used to make himbreak his resolve of preaching there no more, it wanting more than aweek or two of the appointed day in August when he must needs desist;but he would not yield to do more than pray publicly; and the pulpit wasfor a season supplied by other men. 

I am wandering away, however, from that day and its doings, of which Ihave not finished the account. While Mr. Truelocke was preaching, thestorm drew off and died away in distant mutterings, so that it was in avery great stillness that he spoke his last words. However, the rain wasstill falling, though without violence, when we came out of the church;so we waited awhile in the porch till the clouds had rolled away, manyothers who did not love a wetting doing the same as we, and there wasmuch talking. 

None of our party said aught, till Mrs. Bonithorne, one of thewealthiest farmers' wives in the parish, turned herself to Aunt Golding, saying, --

'Heard you ever anything so strange, neighbour, as yon awfulthunder-clap coming close on the malicious words of the brawling Quaker?He ought to have quaked and trembled indeed at the voice of Heavenrebuking his madness. '

'But that he did not, mistress, ' said I, something too pertly, I fear;'for he bade the people hearken to the voice of God bearing witnessagainst _them_. '

'Did he so?' cried she; 'the more was his impudence to wrest theheavenly sign in his favour. But what make you then of the passing awayof the storm when Mr. Truelocke began to preach, and of the sweet calmthat had fallen on all things when he ended? was that a witness infavour of Quaker madness?'

'Nay, I make nothing of it, ' said I; and Aunt Golding added, --

'You would not interpret it as a sign of approval granted to Mr. Truelocke for his hasty resolve never to preach to us again? For mypart, I hope he will be persuaded otherwise. '

'Truly I hope so, ' said Dame Bonithorne, her ruddy colour deepening;'for it's too cruel an affront he puts on us poor people;' and I knownot how much more she might have said, but for Harry Truelocke, who nowcame up to the porch, and, beckoning Aunt Golding forth, whispered toher how Andrew had carried the Quaker to the Grange, and now desired herpresence; at which we all set forth together, the rain having ceased;and on the road Harry tells us, what sore disquieted Aunt Golding, thatthe man had only come to West Fazeby on Andrew's account. 

'It seems, ' said he, 'you met him on your road hither, when he was inthe hands of some base fellows that had a mind to maul him--do youremember such a matter?' and Aunt Golding saying how she remembered itvery well, Harry went on to say that the man, having noted Andrew'swillingness to serve him, had ever since 'had a concern on his mind forthe good youth, '--that was his phrase, --and had been led to our village, and to the very church, being assured he would see Andrew there. 'It's astrange, mad story, ' quoth Harry. 

Althea had given earnest heed to this tale, and now she asked, 'And whatsays Master Andrew to such wild talk? I suppose he will use the poordeluded wretch gently and kindly, that's his nature; but sure he willscorn his ravings?'

'I cannot tell what Andrew may think in his heart, ' says Harry moodily;'but he uses the man as if he thought him a saint or a martyr, or both. I wish harm may not come of this day's doings;' and he fell into agloomy silence. 

I had never seen him look so nearly angry before. We were now got to theParsonage, and Harry arousing himself to take leave of us, our aunt saysto him, --

'I shall ask you to do me a great good turn, by bringing your father tosup with us at the Grange. I would have him reason peaceably with yonpoor distraught man, and convince him of his folly; so he may do aservice to my Andrew also, if he has indeed a leaning to suchdelusions. '

'Well, madam, I will do it for you, ' said Harry; 'but there is only oneother person in the world to please whom I would bring my father intosuch odd company as yon man's;' and he went in, looking but halfpleased; and as we took our way to the Grange I was musing who thatother person might be Harry was so fain to please. 

When we got into the hall we saw Andrew sitting there and talking withthe stranger, who was now clothed like any other man. His face had beenbruised and his hair torn by the violence of the people; but, for allthese disfigurements, I, looking earnestly at him, could see he was thevery one the sight of whose ill-usage had so moved Andrew on ourjourney; there was the same composed look, and the same strange inwardlight in his eye. 

He rose when he saw Aunt Golding come in, saluting her with the words, 'Peace be to thee!' on which she, gravely smiling, said, --

'You did not bring peace with you to our place of worship, sir; but Itrust no one will break your peace in my house, where you are welcome torest and refresh you this day. '

'No man can break my peace, ' said he, 'my soul being ever at rest inthe Holy City, the New Jerusalem. '

'That's a good resting-place indeed, ' said our aunt. 'Will you tell meby what name I am to call you while you stay here? I think no one in ourvillage knows who you are. '

'Not every one can know my name, but they that have the Light, ' said theman; 'and the world can never know it. '

'But sure, man, you have a name of your own by which the world does knowyou, ' said our aunt a little impatiently. 

'I wish not to deny it, ' he replied; 'therefore fret not thyself, goodfriend, --my worldly name is James Westrop. And I will tell thee whatthou askest not, that my errand hither is to this young man, AndrewGolding. I have now told him my message, so I am free to depart; and ifthou likest not of my talk or my ways, I refuse not to leave thy houseand protection this hour. '

'But I will not have you go, ' said she, 'till you are refreshed andrested. And, in good time, here comes the Vicar, whom I have desired tosup with us and to reason with you. You will not refuse his company? Hescorns not yours. '

'I will not refuse it, ' said Westrop gravely; and Mr. Truelocke comingin at that moment with Harry, we all went presently to table. 

I marvelled greatly during the meal at Mr. Truelocke's courtesy, sokindly did he speak to the Quaker; and he strove to excuse to him themad behaviour of the people, ascribing it to their regard for theirancient pastor, now about to leave them. 'I pray you, ' he said, 'topardon them for my sake. '

'Friend, ' said James Westrop, 'I had pardoned them before they offended. But thou art deceived if thou thinkest it was love to thee which movedthem. They could not endure my word, because their own spirits werefoul. My word was to them as the shining of a candle into a dark, dirtyplace, and the sight of their foulness made them mad against me. But inthee I perceive purity of intention; and I will gladly reason with theeof the things of the Spirit, according to this good woman's desire. '

So after supper Aunt Golding showed the Quaker and Mr. Truelocke into aparlour, and herself with Andrew went in to hear their reasonings; butAlthea whispered me, and said, 'Let us go and walk in the garden; Icannot stay and hear the man's insolent talk. ' So we stepped out, andbegan to pace up and down one of the walks, the moon being just risen, and the evening very sweet and calm--a pleasant change it was after theheats and storms of that afternoon's work. Presently Harry joined us, and said at once, 'Well, sweet ladies, so you have no mind to turnQuakers?'

'As soon shall this rose turn nettle, ' said Althea, plucking a whiterose off a bush and giving it to him. 'Keep it, I pray you; and when youfind it will sting you to touch it, then conclude Althea Dacre hasturned Quaker. '

'Give me your rose too, Mistress Lucia, ' said Harry. 

So I gathered one, and put it in his hand; but I felt obliged to say, --

'I cannot speak so confidently as my sister; I know nothing of thesepeople and their doctrines. '

'You see their doings, ' said Althea indignantly; 'that should be enough. Mr. Truelocke, Lucia and I were bred up true Churchwomen, and so I willcontinue to my dying day. I love not all these sects that spring up likeweeds in the ruined places of the Church; I am for those who arebuilding up her walls again, and making them stronger. '

'And is this your mind too, Mistress Lucia?' says Harry. 'I fear me, ifit is, you will not approve my good father either;' at which Althea wentred and went pale, for she had not thought how her words might hit Mr. Truelocke; but since she did not speak, I said, --

'Being so ignorant about these things, I don't like to say much, exceptthat I hate these new harsh laws, --axes, I think them, lopping off fromour Church her true, faithful members as if they were diseased limbs. Ifear me the poor trunk that is left will be like a headless, handlesscorpse without them. '

'Well, God mend all!' said Harry, drawing a long breath. 'For my part, all I know is, that I would these great folks who rule us now had let myfather end his days in peace, without pestering him about surplices andPrayer-Books and the sign of the cross, all which he holds for rankPapistry, I suppose; and I cannot wish him to lie, even about suchfoolish trifles as these things appear to me. But what profits wishing?'

'Very little, ' said Althea, sighing softly. 'I might wish too, all invain, that I had not spoken with such needless warmth even now;' and shebegan entreating him to believe she had meant no disrespect to hisfather; but he cut her short, assuring her he knew it already. 

'My father is not in all your thoughts, ' said he; 'but he is seldom outof mine. I am ever longing to see him settled in some peaceful shelterbefore I go to sea;' and he looked more downcast than I had ever seenhim. 

We were got into the orchard now, winding in and out among the trees, and Althea went musing by herself; but I could not help lingering besideHarry, to say some comfortable words about how all folks loved Mr. Truelocke, my aunt especially, and I knew it was in her mind to have theold gentleman make his home at the Grange with her, if he only would. 

'Ay, ' says Harry; 'that's a larger "if" than you wot of, sweet Lucy. Butwould it please you, as well as Mrs. Golding, to have the old man livingunder this roof?' and I answered hastily, --

'Nothing could like me better than to have so kind and fatherly a mandwelling with us, not to say that his holiness and piety would bringdown Heaven's blessing on any house that sheltered him; and I promiseyou, ' I went on, 'that I, for my part, would show him all a daughter'slove and duty, '--'and so will Althea, '--I would fain have added, had notHarry cut my speech short, saying, --

'That's a charming word on your lips when you speak of my father--theword of daughter. I hope you consider what it may mean to me. '

'Sure, ' I said, 'I am very willing to take you for my brother, if thatis what you aim at. '

'No, no, Lucy, ' said he; 'I wish not to be your brother. I refusealtogether to let you think of me as such; but I have nothing to sayagainst Mistress Althea as a sister. Think well of my words, will you?'and, taking my hand, he put it to his lips. And it was not the firsttime, in truth, that such a courtesy had been shown me; but with a finegentleman it seems such a matter of course. It was not so with the frankand blunt sailor, who had had a kind of Puritan bringing-up too; so Isuppose that was the reason it made me tremble so strangely, or perhapsthe look on his face was the cause. I was therefore not sorry to seeAlthea coming up to us again. 

'We had better keep nearer the house; their conference may be over, andMrs. Golding will not know where to find us, ' she said; so we turnedback, and all three paced up and down the terrace under the windows fora while, then we went into the hall, and sat there awaiting the end ofthe disputation. 

At last we saw Mr. Truelocke, Mrs. Golding. James Westrop, and Andrew, all issuing forth together, and all but one seeming mightily disturbed. Mr. Truelocke looked stern and sad, and Mrs. Golding had been weeping;Andrew gazed on the Quaker with much anxiety, but with such reverence asif he saw in him an angel of God. As for James Westrop, there was nochange in him, only his usual composure seemed a little exalted, if Imay so phrase it. He walked straight to the hall door, Andrew keeping byhim. There he made a stand, and, raising his hands as if in blessing, --

'Peace be to this house!' he said; 'I have been well entreated in it, though it approves me not. Friend Andrew, thou and I will meet again;but now follow me not. I may not sleep under this roof, having manymiles to go before the sun rises;' and with that he turned and walkedout of the door, which he shut after him; and Andrew, who had stopped athis word, came slowly back to us. Althea now rose from her place andwent towards him; her eyes were very bright, and there was unusualcolour in her cheeks; indeed she seemed carried quite out of herself, yet she kept her queenly look and gait withal. 

'Mr. Golding, said she, putting her hands on his arm, 'what means thatman by his farewell to you? Sure you are not befooled and led away byhis deceiving words to believe such madness as he speaks?'

Andrew started at her touch, like a man waking from a dream. He thenlooked seriously at her, and said, --

'Madam, I cannot say yet how much I believe of yon good man's doctrine;but I will not rest till I know more of it. If I find it to be asheavenly true as it hath seemed to me this day, not all the joys andglories of the world should hold me back from embracing it; at whichAlthea, letting her hands fall from his arm, stood as if she were turnedinto stone, her eyes remaining fixed on him sorrowfully. I suppose hecould not endure that look; for he turned away sharply and went out ofthe hall. 

'I feared this, ' said Mr. Truelocke. He looked quite weary and spent. 'These men have a strange eloquence; and I cannot wonder that suchyouths as our Andrew should think their words are indeed set off by somesuperior Power, --the more, since none can deny that they preach whatthey practise. I would I could have imbued all my hearers with a likeburning sincerity. '

This was nearly all I heard about that long conference of theirs; forafter some more lamentations over its ill result, which, Harry whisperedme, they might have expected, Mr. Truelocke departed with his son, andAunt Golding remained so troubled that I did not like to question herabout what had passed. But all the more was I curious to know what theman's doctrine was; and on the first fair occasion I found, I began toask Andrew to describe it to me. Poor youth! he was mightily pleasedwith my inquiry, thinking, doubtless, that it sprang from a real thirstfor truth like his own; and to the best of his power he complied with mywish. I found he had not been altogether ignorant of this new teachingfor some months back. 

'We English Christians, ' said he, 'have fallen into many hurtful snaresby our lack of faith in God's great gift of the Holy Spirit, the mightyboon which the risen Saviour promised to His followers, and which trulycame according to His word. I have often wondered, ' said he, 'that weall profess and say, as often as we repeat the Creed, "I believe in theHoly Ghost, " yet we act and think as if we believed not in Him. ' Andfrom this point he went on to tell me how George Fox, first of all, andmany others after him, had been going about the country endeavouring tomake people alive to the high privilege they had so long slighted, totheir own exceeding hurt; 'also, ' said he, 'these men, in obedience tothe inward Voice that instructs them, strive to bring people off fromtheir formal man-made religions to the primitive purity of Christ'sreligion, which consists not in rites and ceremonies, repeating of formsof prayer, singing of hymns, and ringing of bells, but in a holy andharmless life;' and he quoted many things out of the Sermon on theMount, 'which, ' said he, 'the common run of Christians never dream ofobeying; but the poor Friends practise them most strictly. '

All this was most alluring to Andrew, for, as I have often noticed, hedetested nothing so much as false professions, and a show of goodnesswhere none was. I asked him curiously why the Friends behaved themselvesin such strange fashion in public places and churches; when he answeredme by referring to the bold speeches of ancient prophets in rebuke ofsin, and asked me if I could think that a man might now-a-days refuse tocarry God's message to sinners because it might bring him into bodilyperil? 'It were far worse, ' said he, 'to disobey the Divine Voice, thatstill small Voice that is heard by the restful soul, than to endure alittle pain at men's hands, or even the death of the body. ' Well, Icould not wonder that he was charmed with such teachings, for while Ilistened to him my own heart was moved strangely; but it evermore endedwith my resolving to keep to the opinions of my aunt and Mr. Truelocke;I thought they were both too good to be far mistaken. But Andrew nowbegan to be often away from home, and he made no secret that he went tomeet with Westrop and other Friends, from whom he often had lettersalso. He was never at West Fazeby on the Lord's Day; and Aunt Goldingand Althea also showed themselves mightily afflicted thereat. 

CHAPTER IV. 

HOW HARRY TRUELOCKE LEFT US FOR THE SEA. 

And now came fast upon us that black day, the twenty-fourth of August, 1662, when such numbers of faithful ministers were stript of theiroffices and livings because they would not go against their consciences;and our own Mr. Truelocke among them. I think he was more stiffly setthan ever in his opinion of the unlawfulness of conformity, since he hadthat talk with James Westrop; at least Aunt Golding thought so. But onother points he showed himself mild and persuadable, so that there wasnothing like the difficulty Harry and all of us had looked for inwinning him to come and dwell at the Grange, for a season at least; andhe agreed to make the change before the fatal day should come. 

So we had all a busy time of it that last week, in getting his manybooks and his simple household stuff removed from the Parsonage house, and in bestowing them suitably at the Grange, where Aunt Golding hadprepared two fair rooms for his particular use. And however bad theoccasion for our doing this work, some of us found pleasure in it. 

I must own I myself always loved a busy, bustling time, when thereseemed a little more to be done in each day than we could crowd into it;which was our case now, wheat harvest having begun. And I was gladderthan common of the stir and the bustle, for it helped to stupefy anddull a pain there was at my heart whenever the thought crossed me howsoon Harry would be gone. He was to depart on a long voyage to the EastIndies, and would indeed have sailed already but for his loving careabout his father, which made him resolute to tarry until he saw the oldgentleman in a manner provided for. 

Some perverse whimsy of mine had made me careful never to be left alonein Harry's company since that talk with him by moonlight in the orchard. It's no wonder that I so perfectly recollect all the sayings and doingsof that day, for it was a fateful day indeed to some of our littlecompany. But the things that dwelt most constantly in my memory, to theshutting out of weightier matters, were Harry's looks and words on mysaying I would be as a daughter to Mr. Truelocke. There was small needto bid me think well of them; I thought of them whether I would or no, all the while telling myself that I was a poor fool for brooding oversuch airy trifles; that I had not known aught of Harry, nor he of me, six months before; and that I deserved whipping for fancying he couldmean anything serious. And so, between a kind of fear and a good deal ofpride, I tried, as I have said, to avoid any private talk with him; andI succeeded pretty well. But Harry's blunt, plain-spoken waysovermatched me after all. 

The first evening after Mr. Truelocke had come to the Grange--I cannotsay, after we had him settled there, for he was mightily unsettled--hewas not able to rest in the room we had fitted for his study, and socame to sit among us in the hall, seeming to please himself withwatching our occupations, as he sat in his great chair. Andrew waswriting somewhat at his desk; Althea had some sewing; and I was having alesson from Aunt Golding in the right use of the little flax-wheel; forI had taken an extraordinary fancy for spinning, and our aunt encouragedme in it, and took pains to teach me, saying I was an apt scholar. Thuswe were busied when Harry came in and sat down among us. 

'You all look peaceful and content, methinks, ' quoth he. 'I wish I werea skilful painter, then might I make a picture of this pretty scene tocarry with me and cheer my heart in distant seas. But since I cannot dothat, I must try for some other comfort to take away with me. '

Here he stopt, and Aunt Golding said kindly, 'What is in my power to dofor you, Master Harry, I will do as freely as your father could. '

'Thanks, madam, ' said Harry; 'there's much you and my father can do forme; I know only one other person who can do more. Father, I looked foryou in your study even now; but I am not sorry to find you here instead, hardly any one here but has some interest in my business with you. Iwant your consent and Mrs. Golding's to my seeking Mistress Lucy herefor my wife. '

I heard the words plainly, and I suppose their sense reached me; but ifthey had been so many blows of an axe upon my head they could not haveleft me more stupid. So I sat helpless, hearing Aunt Golding cry out, --

'Here is hasty work, indeed! do you speak seriously, Master Harry?'

'Never more seriously, ' said he; 'if they were the last words I shouldspeak I could not mean them more truly and heartily. And I hope you havea good answer for me. '

'I don't say no, ' she replied; 'but there are others to be consultedbeside me. '

So Harry, looking at Mr. Truelocke, said, 'Father, call your thoughtsoff from your unkind Mother Church, and bestow some of them on yourdutiful son. Will you give me your sanction and your blessing, if I canwin this lady to say she will be mine?'

'I can never refuse thee my blessing, Harry, and that thou knowest, 'said the old man. 'But it's fitting that I should think of the lady too, and bid her consider what she does. '

He turned to me, which troubled me greatly, and, looking sadly andkindly at me, said, --

'If you take this boy of mine, madam, ' said he, 'you take the son of apoor, despised, aged man, who can give you and him nothing but afather's blessing, coupled with his burdensome infirmity to care forand tend, till death remove it;' words which loosed my tonguestraightway to say I should deem such an office a pride and honour. 

'That is not all, ' said Mr. Truelocke. 'Harry hath chosen to embrace adangerous wandering way of life, neither very glorious nor veryprofitable. And his bride will have to spend many a sad lonely hour, while her husband is tossing on the seas, and she sitting trembling athome, deprived of his protection and doubtful of his fate. '

'That's a very odd way of recommending my suit, father, ' said Harry, alittle uneasily. 

'Nay, I have not done my recommendation, ' replied Mr. Truelocke; 'let mesay all. You should further consider, Mistress Lucy, that this son ofmine is so light of spirit and careless of speech, that some will say hehas no constancy of disposition. I will not so far slander him, for Iknow him better; but this I must say, for it is truth, that he has notyet that confirmed and settled piety I should desire in the husband ofmine own daughter, if I had one. Now I have laid before you all thedisadvantages of the match, it is for you to say if you will have it. '

I wonder if ever a love-suit was so urged before? It made me heartilyangry to hear poor Harry so disparaged to his face, and to see him sitso downcast, a cloud of angry colour mounting to his very forehead. Isuppose pity for him killed all my bashfulness, for I stood up, and saidpassionately, I thought no worse of a man for having the boldadventurous nature which loved seafaring; that was a noble trade, Isaid, and our mariners the very flower of England; and as for lightspirit and merry speech, they were but flowers covering a rock, forsteadfast as a rock was the heart under that gay show. 

'And if you speak of piety, ' I wound up, 'I am sure Harry hath as muchof it as I have, at least; he has some faith, some love, and so I hopehave I; but we will help each other up to better things; and here is myhand on it if he will take it. ' With that I held out my hand to him, andhe sprang up and grasped it in both his, looking exultingly at hisfather; it was a pleasure to see how his face had changed all in amoment. Mr. Truelocke smiled, but he shook his head too, saying, --

'Well, children, I blame you not. The Lord will surely teach you andlead you, it may be in ways you will not like; for it is on my mind thatyou both have much to learn and much to suffer before your marriage dayshall dawn. '

And now Aunt Golding, who loved Harry, and never could endure to havehim crossed, began to laugh outright. 

'I will own, ' she said, 'I thought you very unmerciful to your good son, Mr. Truelocke, while you continued to run him down so shamefully; butnow I see you took the right way to advance his cause. It's wonderfulwhat a spice of contradiction will do with a woman! Lucy, you wouldnever have made this bold, open confession without some suchprovocation'--words which abashed me much, for they were true. 

And now, no one present having a word more to say against it, Harry andI exchanged rings; and Mr. Truelocke in a few pathetic words besoughtHeaven's blessing on our contract. I do believe Harry would not havebeen sorry could he have called me wife before he went away; but, everyone frowning on this fancy of his when he distantly hinted it, he didnot urge it; and truly the time was too short. 

I was a little afraid of Althea, lest she should think I had every waydemeaned myself; but she never has owned that she thought so. 

'These things go by destiny, little Lucy, ' she said once. 'I am notstrong enough to control fate, and certainly you are not; so why shouldI blame you? Were not all our follies written in the stars when we wereborn?' I could not tell then what to make of her mocking words, knowinghow she despised what people call astrology. 

As for Andrew, he could talk cheerfully of nothing at this time; and thehopefullest word he could find for Harry and me was that though in theseevil days there could be no love-thoughts or marriage-thoughts for suchas him, he would not say they were forbidden to others; and he wished usall the happiness we could get; poor cold words; but Harry said 'twaswonderful Andrew could say as much on any worldly matter. 

This was the manner of our betrothing; and, were it not for Harry's ringstill shining on my finger, and also for the odd unusual fashion of thewhole thing, which is what I never could have dreamt, I should be sadlyapt to think of it as a dream too pleasant to be true. 

For within a day or two Harry had left us and gone to Hull, from whichport he sailed. I have never seen him since; also it is now a fulltwelve-month since any letter from him reached us. Yet I cannot believehe is dead; and if he is living, I know he is true; and living or dead, I have a strong persuasion that my little ruby ring, which was mymother's once, is on his finger still. 

But many a time have I thought on Mr. Truelocke's words, how we bothshould have much to learn and much to suffer before our marriage day. Ithink the words be true. 

CHAPTER V. 

HOW ANDREW MADE ONE ENEMY, AND WAS LIKE TO HAVE ANOTHER. 

And now my happy time was over; its story is all told so far; and I mustwrite of darker days that came after. 

The living of West Fazeby, left vacant because of Mr. Truelocke'ssturdiness in his opinion, did not wait long for an incumbent, but wasquickly bestowed on a Mr. Lambert; a man not troubled with awkwardscruples, for he had been a strong Presbyterian under the Commonwealth, and now was become as strong a Churchman; but an honest man as the worldgoes now, and not hard-hearted. He had another better living where heresided; so our parish was served by his curate, a Mr. Poole, a youngman of shallow capacity and but little learning. Mr. Truelocke, however, went to hear him preach;--a strange sight it was to see soreverend, saintly, and able a minister sitting humbly as a listener, while that weak-headed lad spoke from the pulpit;--and he said the youthpreached true doctrine; so he continued going to hear him, andencouraged our household to do the like, which they all did, exceptAndrew. That Mr. Truelocke himself did not join in the new formalprayers was not noticed, his presence at sermon-time seeming to givemighty satisfaction to Mr. Poole, who would often walk up to the Grangeof a Lord's Day evening, to ask Mr. Truelocke's opinion of his handlingof a text, and would even beg to hear his exposition of the same; whenseveral of our neighbours would also come in and listen thankfully totheir old pastor's words; neither we nor they dreaming that suchpractices could be deemed unlawful, as they soon were, being stigmatizedas conventicles, and heavily punished. But this did not happen in Mr. Poole's time. 

There were other things much less agreeable to us under the new order ofthings. A monstrous new Maypole was set up on the village green, bycommand of a gentleman very powerful in the parish, whom I shall soonhave to name, and we were told the old heathen May-games would beobserved at the right season, --as indeed they were when the time came;meantime the one or two taverns in West Fazeby began to stand open on aSunday, and were much more frequented than they used to be, men who hadformerly been very careful to shun them now going to them boldly in openday; which plainly discovered their former decent carriage to have beena hollow show. Althea and I chanced one day to be passing the Royal Oak, as the chief inn of the village had been new christened, just as therereeled out of it a young gentleman whom every one had deemed a mosthopeful pious youth, Mr. Truelocke in particular having a great opinionof him, though I never liked his demure looks for my part, nor his stiffway of dressing himself. He was called Ralph Lacy, and was son and heirto old Mr. Lacy of Lacy Manor, a worthy old gentleman, though somewhataustere, who was lately dead; which I suppose partly accounted for themighty change in his son, who was now clad in silk and velvet, scarletand gold; and, as I have said, could not walk too straight at thatmoment. 

He stood still, leering foolishly on us, just in our way; I could notbear to look at him, and would have slipt on one side; but Althealooked sternly at him, and said bitterly, --

'Shame on you, Ralph Lacy! You mourn for your father in a very vilemanner; a swine could do no worse. '

'Ah, sweet Mistress Dacre, ' said he, 'do you think then the grim, sour-visaged saints are reigning still? Nay, their day is over! we havea right good fellow for a king now, and this shall be Merry Englandagain, I can tell thee. ' (He was growing more familiar at every word. )'I will soon show thee what the ways are at Whitehall now;' and he wascoming much nearer to her than was pleasant, when Andrew, who came upwith us at that moment, flung him out of our path with such goodwillthat Master Lacy measured his length on the ground; and there we lefthim lying. Althea thanked Andrew warmly and cordially; but Andrew, whohad been all glowing with just wrath at first, seemed to shrink intohimself at her praise. 

'It was a temptation, ' he said, 'and I have fallen. I could have takenyou out of yon fool's way without laying a finger on him. '

'It's something of a disgrace indeed to have touched the beast--an oakenstaff had been fitter than your hand, ' she replied. 'Merry England, quotha! drunken England, I suppose he meant. '

'There is too much indeed of the unclean spirit of riot abroad now, 'answered Andrew; 'but it is not with violent hands that we can cast itout. I sinfully forgot our Lord's word, "Resist not evil;"' and nothingcould brighten him, though Althea did her best all the way home. 

There came the day when I rued Andrew's angry action as much as he did, though not for the same reason. Ralph Lacy was not too drunk to beunaware who had flung him aside into the dust; he never forgave it; andhis hand was plainly seen afterwards in the troubles that came upon us. Another man also contributed something to them, though more innocently. 

Mr. Poole now came very much about us, and would often talk about thegood family he belonged to and his hopes of speedy preferment; andanother favourite topic of his was the gay suits he had worn in hissecular days; he would dwell very fondly on the cut and trimmings ofthese clothes. I think nothing misliked him in his profession but thegravity of dress required from a clerical person; and I was oftentempted to ask, had his father been a tailor? He made the most of hissober apparel, and loved to show a white, smooth, fat hand, with a finediamond on one finger; but he was unhappy in an insignificant person anda foolish face, both of them something fatter than is graceful. 

I do not know what first made me guess that all his boastings andparadings were intended to advance him in Althea's good graces; but sherefused to believe me when I said so. 

'Poor harmless wretch!' said she; 'he is but practising with me; hewould fain perfect himself in the airs and graces of a thriving wooer, before laying siege in earnest to some fair lady, with the heavy purse, that I lack, at her girdle. '

'That's a far-fetched fancy indeed, ' said I. 'Why should he single youout alone for such practisings?'

'Well, ' quoth Althea idly, 'he may deem me the fittest person torehearse with, seeing I have at least the breeding of a gentlewoman, andam contracted to no one else. He will think that if his ways and wordsplease me, they may answer with richer women of my sort as well. '

'But sure they do not please you!' I cried; 'nor should you let himthink they do; 'tis not fair usage. '

'Nay, he diverts me hugely, ' said she; 'and I need diversion, for myheart is heavy as lead, Lucy;'--all at once there were tears in hereyes;--'if I can forget my griefs while I watch a mannikin bowing andgrimacing before me, don't grudge me the poor pastime. I assure thee, child, there's nothing more in it;' and with that she left me hastily. 

I was used to think Althea much wiser than myself, but the evening ofthe very day when we had this talk proved that in this matter herjudgment was more at fault than mine. For about sunset Mr. Poole came upto the Grange, which was a rare thing for him to do, seeing he did notlove to be abroad when it was dark. He seemed mightily puffed up aboutsomething; and, not being one of those who can keep their own counsellong, he soon imparted to Althea and me, whom he found sitting by theparlour fire, how his promotion now seemed very near. There was a livingof which he had long had hopes to get the reversion; and the actualincumbent was fallen sick of a strange fever, with little prospect ofrecovery. 

'And you are troubled because of the poor man's grievous case, ' saysAlthea demurely. 'I guessed something was disturbing you. It'smelancholy news indeed, Mr. Poole, for one would guess by it that theplace must be unhealthy, so it may be your luck to sicken in like mannerwhen it is your turn to live there. '

I thought Althea cruel thus to tease the poor man, imputing to him atender concern for the sufferer of which he had never dreamed; besides, he was chicken-hearted about contagious disorders, and that she knew. Ipitied him then, but found it hard to forbear laughing, his aspect wasso comical; therefore I feigned an errand out of the room, and, havingstayed away long enough to compose my countenance, I returned to theparlour, where I found poor Mr. Poole on his knees to Althea, urging hissuit for her hand with a great deal more passion than one could haveexpected in him. 'Twas in vain she spoke of her orphanhood and poverty, and told him he should look higher; and at last she had to speaksharply, and say, however she might esteem the honour he would do her, wife of his she would never be; 'so quit that unbecoming posture at myfeet, ' she added; on which he rose indeed, but said half-frantically, --

'Give me at least, madam; the comfort of hearing you say you areheart-free, that you love none other better than you do me;' on whichfirst her eyes flashed angry fire, and then changed and softened, herwhole face and even her neck going rosy-red, and she said almostkindly, --

'I will give you no such assurance, sir, to hold you in vain hopes; butI wish you a happier fate than marriage with me might prove. ' With thatshe was gone from the room, like a shadow; and Mr. Poole and I were leftfoolishly staring at each other. Presently he said hoarsely, --

'Who is it that your sister loves, madam? for whom does she disdain me?Sure, ' he went on, with growing heat, 'it cannot be your cousin--he thatis infected with the Quaker heresy! say it is not he, madam. '

Well, I was tempted to lie, and say it was not our cousin; for Andrewwas nothing akin to us; but I resisted the tempter, and said I could saynothing, but that I was heartily sorry, --'and I am sure, so is mysister, ' I said, 'that you should have fixed your affections sounluckily. ' Then I told him Andrew had no thoughts of marriage withAlthea or any one; and I reminded him of the many rich and fair womenwho would be sure to look kindly on him; at which he smiled again, andpresently went away in no unfriendly mood. So I acquit him of meaningthe harm which he afterwards did us, poor youth, with his prattlingtongue. He did not wait long for his promotion, the poor man whom hehoped to succeed dying indeed of the fever that had seized him; so welost our curate. But it seems he prated to his patron about the fairyoung lady he had hoped should share his preferment, lamenting hersilliness in preferring a moonstruck Quaker youth; also he complained ofMrs. Golding for not discouraging such follies, and he even deplored Mr. Truelocke's obstinate heresies as to church discipline. 

I think even he had held his peace, if he had known into how greedy anear he poured these tales. This patron of his, one Sir Edward Fane, hadmuch land and not a little power in our parish, though he resided inanother neighbourhood; he was a bitter hater of all Nonconformists, andin especial of the Quakers; men said this was because of some encounterhe had had with Fox himself, by whose sharp tongue and ready wit ourgentleman was put to open shame, where he had hoped to make himselfsport out of Quaker enthusiasm. However that might be, it was commonlysaid this Sir Edward loved Quaker-baiting, as it was called, beyond allother of the cruel, inhuman sports, the bull-baitings and bear-baitings, in which too many men of condition now take pleasure; and it was notlong before we found a powerful enemy was raised up against our harmlessfriends. 

'Twas a wonder to me that any would lift a hand against them; Mr. Truelocke being so venerable and so peaceable a man, and Andrew of lifeso irreproachable. Also, since the youth had cast in his lot with theFriends, he had shown a singular zeal in good works. He sought out thosewho were in distress or necessity, and laboured to make their hard loteasy, not merely giving them alms, but comforting them as a lovingbrother might do; and such as had fallen into want through folly or sinhe toiled hard to lift up again, and to put them into an honest way ofliving. By this means some few were led to embrace his way of religion, it is true; and what wonder? My wonder was that so many were vilelyungrateful to him, at which _he_ never showed any vexation. 'We arebidden, ' he said, 'to do good to the unthankful and the evil, ' whichseemed enough for him. 

But it being contrary to his conscience to attend the church, I supposeall his other graces did but lay him more open to injury, and we weresoon warned of mischief hatching against us and him, and that by onefrom whom we never expected it. 

CHAPTER VI. 

HOW MR. TRUELOCKE AND MRS. GOLDING LEFT US. 

Mr. Poole being gone, there came in his place as curate an oldish man, grey-haired and meagre; a great adorer of Archbishop Laud and of KingCharles the First, 'the Royal Martyr, ' as he would say; but for all hishalf Popish notions, he was blameless, nay, austere in his life; and hehad thriven so ill in the gay new world of London, that he deemed itgreat good luck to have the curate's place at West Fazeby. 

We had half feared that this poor Mr. Stokes would feel bound inconscience to torment and harass Mr. Truelocke into conformity; so whenhe came to the Grange one day, very earnest to see Aunt Golding and theformer Vicar, and that in private, we were on thorns while he stayed;and when we heard the door shut after him, we hurried to our aunt, asking what his errand had been. 

She answered us not directly, but, gazing after Mr. Stokes, whom Mr. Truelocke was conducting out through the garden, 'Well, my girls, ' saidshe, 'if the tree may be known by its fruits, yon is a right honest manand a true Christian;' and she went on to say how he had only come towarn her and hers of evil that was designed against them. 'I fear, ' shesaid, smiling, 'the good man's conscience pulled him two ways; yet hisheart has proved wiser than his head. I am right glad now that Andrew isaway, though I was vexed before; yet I knew his was a charitablejourney. '

Then she told us of new crueller devices intended against the Friends, and, indeed, against all Nonconforming folks. 'And there be some, ' shesaid, 'who have spoken very evil things of us here at the Grange. Iwarrant you it will not be long that we shall be suffered to have familyworship if our labouring men share in it as they are used to do; nor canMr. Truelocke so much as expound a Psalm to us and them, but it shallstraight be said we hold a conventicle here. '

'Surely, ' says Althea, very pale, 'the gentlemen who now rule thecountry are too proud-spirited, too noble, to intermeddle with suchmatters; what is it to them how we say our prayers in our own houses?Abroad, there may be need of a decent face of uniformity, and some openoutrageous follies may require to be put down strongly'--She stopped, and Aunt Golding said, --

'Ah, child, thou little knowest. I have not yet heard of any outrageousfollies that our poor Andrew has run into; yet I am told, and I fearit's true, that if he were to show his face openly in West Fazebyto-morrow, his next lodging might be in York Castle, where he should liein the foulest den they could find for him, and have the worst companyto boot. Nor will it be very safe here for our good Mr. Truelocke, whonow talks of taking his journey to certain worthy kinsfolk of his thatare farmers in the Dale country, there he may live in a peacefulobscurity; but his chief aim is to avoid bringing troubles on ourhouse. '

It struck me cruelly to think of Harry's father leaving us, but I had notime to dwell on the thought, for now Althea sank down at my feet, helpless and senseless like one who was dead indeed; and much ado wehad to bring her out of her swoon, which was very long, and she veryfeeble when she was recovered from it. We got her to her room, andpersuaded her to lie down and sleep; and when we came away, Aunt Goldingturns to me with a puzzled look, saying, --

'What means this, Lucy? I never thought your sister one of those fineladies who swoon for every trifle;--what is it, think you?'

'Andrew, ' says I, 'and the image of his danger; you made a frightfulpicture of it, dear madam, do you know?'

'Ah, set a thief to catch a thief!' says Aunt Golding, and I felt gladto hear her laugh once more; 'my love-passages are of too ancient a dateto serve me, it seems, but yours are fresh and new, my Lucy. But what ofAndrew? is Althea dear to him?'

'More dear than he knows, or she guesses, ' quoth I; at which our goodaunt laughed again, but then said, --

'It's a thing that would have pleased me well, had I been told that itwould happen a year ago, but now I see nothing but trouble in it. Therewould be no equal yoke there, my Lucy. Whatever extravagances Andrewhath fallen into, the love of Christ runs through all he does andthinks. And canst thou say the like of thy sister?'

'Not yet, ' I murmured, but Aunt Golding heard me, and said, --

'Ay, well spoken, Lucy; we will remember that when we pray. '

After this, Aunt Golding had a long conference with Matthew Standfast, whom she despatched in pursuit of Andrew, that he might furnish him withmoney and warn him to keep away from the Grange for a season. And aftermuch trouble, Matthew found him, somewhere on the road to York; when itcost him still more pains to lead his young master into compliance withthe prudent courses enjoined on him. 

'He talked much, ' said Matthew, 'of the honour of suffering for thetruth, and how he must not be the vile coward to refuse it. And I hadnever been able to beat him away from that, but for the excellentcounsel of one that was riding with him; I think he was a Quaker also, for he could talk with Master Andrew in his own dialect. '

'What manner of man was he?' said our aunt. 

'I can hardly tell, ' said Matthew; 'he had a piercing eye, I wot, and avoice as clear as a bell; very neat and seemly he was in his attire, andyet he might have been a ruffling cavalier if one judged by his hair, which he wore long and curled. '

'That is much how George Fox himself has been described to me, ' saidAunt Golding. 

'Nay, I cannot think it was any such man, ' said Matthew, 'for he talkedvery reasonably, plain sense and plain words, such as a simple man likeme could not choose but understand; and one told me how George Foxshould be in Lancashire about this time. '

'Well, what said he to persuade my poor lad?' asked aunt. 

'Why, he bade him remember certain works of mercy he had already inhand, which should not be neglected to gratify a mad fancy of thrustinghis head in the lion's mouth whenever it was opened against him. SoMaster Andrew was ashamed of his rashness, and was persuaded to takehimself away for a time; and we parted very lovingly. He says it shallnot be long ere you hear from him, mistress. '

I believe, in spite of Matthew's contrary opinion, that Andrew'scounsellor was no other than the famous man whom our aunt had named. ButI have no proof of this, only mine own strong persuasion. 

Not many days hereafter, we had proof that Mr. Stokes had been veryhonest in his warning to us. There came constables to the Grange, whoshowed a warrant to seize the body of Andrew Golding, charged with manystrange misdemeanours, but especially with refusing the Oaths ofSupremacy and Allegiance. I do not believe the poor youth ever hadrefused them; but this was the common trap set for the Friends, who wereknown to decline all oath-taking, because of that saying of our Lord's, 'Swear not at all, '--a harmless scruple at the worst, which never oughtto be used, as I think, against honest and peaceable subjects. 

We were now heartily glad that Andrew was absent, and that we couldtruly say, we knew not where he was; nor were the constables muchgrieved at it. One of them found an occasion of whispering to AuntGolding, 'If you can get word to the young man, let him know this air isunwholesome for him just now;' after which they went hastily away. 

And now we began to be haunted with spies, our steps seeming to bedogged even in our own garden, where we were aware of people movingabout behind trees and bushes, as if hearkening after our talk; or wecaught sight of faces peering in at the windows when we were at eveningprayer. Also our friends and neighbours began to shun us as if we hadthe plague, and no one more than Mrs. Bonithorne, who had been a greatworshipper of Mr. Truelocke, but now, as we heard, blamed him openly forhis lack of true obedience to the powers that be, 'which are ordained ofGod, ' she would often add. It was her husband who told us this as a goodjest; but it hurt Mr. Truelocke, and he became more set on his design ofleaving the Grange, and betaking himself to his kinsfolk in Cumberland, where among the waste and lonely mountains he might linger out his dayswithout offence to any. I could not hear him talk of this plan withouttears, which he perceiving tried to stop. 

'Seest thou, dear child, ' he would say, 'all these discomforts come uponthis house because of my abode in it; for as for poor Andrew, he isknown to be elsewhere, and however peaceably I may behave myself, youwill be allowed no peace till I am either gone out of sight like him, orlodged in gaol for some fancied offence. Which were best, thinkest thou, Lucy?' and when I had no answer but weeping, he would leave that pointand begin to talk of Harry's ship, the _Good Hope_, of which we had gotsome news, and would speak hopefully of the joyful meeting we shouldhave when that ship came home. 

Alas, I fear he was no prophet! But he was not to be turned from hisintention; and presently he was gone indeed, in the company of Mr. Bonithorne, who had business in the north country, and who undertookwith a great deal of satisfaction to let no one, and especially not hiswife, into the mystery of his having this reverend travelling companion. 

And now the Grange seemed a sad lonely house indeed; for every day andall day long we missed that noble white head, that kindly presence, thatvoice still musical and tender in spite of seventy years of service. Those spyings and watchings of us, which had helped to drive away ourfatherly friend, were a little intermitted when he was gone; but thepoor benefit was counterpoised with a heavy trouble, for now our AuntGolding began to decline, falling into a strange lingering kind offever, which the doctors could not understand. I think it was nothingbut trouble of heart which caused it, for she was mightily disquietedabout Andrew. There was reason to think it would be as unsafe as everfor him to return home, and letters from him were very rare; he couldnot often find a messenger whom he would trust, and this difficulty wasincreased by his wandering about the country as he did, which yet wasdeemed the best way for him to live. 

So being often a prey to anxious thoughts, the poor lady pined and fadedaway, and presently catching a cold, she began to be troubled withdifficulty in breathing, and her sleep went from her. It was now that welearned the worth of Grace Standfast, who fairly took us poor sillygirls in hand as her pupils, setting us tasks to do both in the houseand the sick chamber, and keeping us in heart with cheerful words andlooks. But for all her skill and her cheerfulness, our patient visiblygrew worse and worse, and as the year wore into winter, we saw that weshould lose her. 

And now there befell a strange thing, which I will tell just as ithappened, and I think there can be no superstition in dwelling on it sofar. 

Aunt Golding's sickness had now become so sore, that it was needful forone of us always to watch with her; and on the night I speak of it wasmy turn to do so. She was very uneasy the first part of my watch, butabout midnight she fell into a deep sleep, and continued so for an hour, when, hearing no sound, I went to look on her, and saw such heavenlypeace on her sleeping countenance, that I could have thought a lightshone from it like the glory about a saint's head in a picture. I do notknow how long I had stood gazing on her, when all at once she woke, and, smiling at me, --

'Is it thou, Lucy?' said she; 'that is well. I have good news for thee;'at which I began to fear she was light-headed, for how should she havenews that I knew not? But presently she went on, with many pausesbecause of her difficult breathing. 

'Thou hast grieved much, Lucy, thinking thy sailor would never come hometo thee again; be at peace, he shall come home, a better man, --and findthee a holier woman for all the troubles thou shalt have seen. '

'How do you know? how can you tell?' I cried. 

'I cannot tell thee now, ' she said, 'but I do know. And thou hast seen, dear heart, how I have grieved over my Andrew--my heart's child, thecomfort of my old age; I have thought he was clean gone out of the rightway, for all his sincerity. It has been shown me in my sleep, that I hadno need thus to grieve. His rashness may bring him sharp trials, buteven through those shall he enter in. The light that leads him is thetrue Light. And though he and his fellows are but erring men, --like allothers, --yet even their trivial errors shall have their use; in days tocome men shall say that these despised and persecuted believers havedone nobly--for their country and for the world. '

'Then, do you think, ' I said, in some trouble, 'that we are all wrong, and only Andrew and those like-minded in the right?'

'Nay, dear heart, ' said she, 'I think not so. The paths are many--butthe Guide is one. Let us only follow His voice, --and He will bring usto His Father's house in safety. I have comfort about thy sister too, 'she added presently, 'though I fear it is not such as she can value yet. Do not forget, dear child, to have Mr. Stokes sent for to-morrow; I wishto receive the most comfortable Sacrament of the Lord's Supper oncemore--with you all, before I go hence. ' As she said the last words, hervoice sank away, and I saw that she was sleeping once more. 

The next day we did as she had bidden, in sending for Mr. Stokes, whoaccordingly came, and gave the Communion to all our household, as wellas to our poor aunt. I never liked him better than on that day. 

But a sad day it proved to us, for we all saw plainly how our secondmother was now a dying woman. I think she hardly said twenty words toone of us thereafter, but quietly slept and dreamed her life away, andon the third day she was gone. This was last winter, the winter of 1664;and I remember how all that melancholy time the people were greatlydisturbed about the comet that was to be seen, wondering what mischiefsit should betoken; I saw it myself, but so full was my mind of myprivate griefs, I cared not much about ill omens to the State. Indeed, one thing that soon happened was very distressing to us, and I shallshortly relate what it was. 

CHAPTER VII. 

HOW ANDREW CAME TO THE GRANGE BY NIGHT. 

It was about a ten days after Mrs. Golding's death, and we werebeginning to feel as if our desolation was a thing that had always beenand always would be, for so I think it often seems when a grief is new. However desolate we were, we were not destitute; she who was gone hadcared for that, and we found a modest dower secured to each of us, without injury to Andrew's rightful inheritance of the Grange and thelands belonging thereto; also we were to continue dwelling in the Grangetill its new master should come home and make such dispositions aspleased him. But for all this we were greatly perplexed; we had beenlong without news of Andrew, and could not tell how to get word to himof Mrs. Golding's death. 

On the day I speak of, we had been teased by a visit from Mrs. Bonithorne, who, professing great sorrow for our loss, and her own lossof one whom she called her oldest friend, soon fell to talking ofAndrew, and how his unlucky doings were all owing to our good aunt'sfoolishness in entertaining so pestilent a heretic as James Westropunder her roof. 

'I warned her of it, ' quoth she; 'I said to her, "You will rue it yet, Margaret; with such an one you should have no dealings, no, not so muchas to eat, " and now see what has come of her perverseness!' andsuch-like stuff she said, which moved Grace Standfast to saydisdainfully, when our visitor was gone, 'Yon woman surely owes us alittle grudge, that 'twas our house and not hers which entertained sorare a monster as a wandering Quaker; she asked me twenty questionsabout him the day after, I remember it well; but we hardly had heart tolaugh, though we were sure enough she had given no such warnings as shespake of. Althea only sighed and said, ''twas an evil day for her whenshe first saw that man;' and as she told me, his two appearances to ushaunted her as she went to rest, and mingled themselves with her dreams. She woke at last sharply and suddenly, thinking she heard the hailrattling against the windows as it did when Mr. Truelocke preached hislast sermon in our church; but it was not hail that rattled, it was someone throwing sand and pebbles up at her window to wake her, and then avoice calling on her name. She sprang up, and, hurrying on some clothes, she ran down-stairs; for, as she told me, she had no more doubt of itsbeing Andrew who called, than if it had been broad daylight, and shecould see him standing below the window; and, being too impatient tounlock any door, she undid the hasp of the nearest casement and climbedout; and at the same moment hearing a voice again calling softly, 'Althea, ' she ran in the direction of the sound, and came upon a manwhom in the starlight she saw to be Andrew indeed; she spoke his name, holding out both her hands, and he turning at once grasped them in bothhis, and so they stood gazing at each other awhile. Then she said, halfsobbing, --

'You come strangely, Andrew--but you come to your own house, and I amglad that it falls to me to welcome you to it; it lacks a master sadly;'and she tried to draw him towards the door, telling him she would setit open if he would tarry a few minutes while she herself climbed in todo it. 

'Alas!' he said, resisting her efforts; 'what do you mean by callingthis my house? is our aunt indeed gone? I had hoped that part of themessage might be a delusion. '

'What message? I sent none, for I knew not where to send, nor did any ofus, ' she replied; 'but it is too true that Mrs. Golding is dead theseten days; and all things are at a stand for lack of your presence. Comein; do not keep me here in the darkness and the cold. '

'I will not keep thee long, ' he said sadly; 'fear it not, Althea. But Imay not come under this roof which thou sayest is mine. I saw the dimlight in your window, ' he went on, like one talking in a dream, 'and Icould not bear to pass by and make no sign, as I ought to have done. ForI love thee too well, Althea Dacre, as thou knowest. '

'How can it be too well, ' she answered boldly, 'if you do not love mebetter than I do you? and therefore come in to your own home, or I willnot believe there is any love in you at all. '

'That's a foolish jest, ' said he half angrily. 'I may not cross thedoorstone of this house to-day, Althea; I am forbidden; so hear me saywhat I came to say. There is a heavy burden laid on me. For seven nightstogether I saw in vision a dark terrible angel, having his wingsoutspread and holding in his hand a half-drawn glittering sword; he washovering over this land of England; and it was shown me that he was amessenger of wrath bidden to smite the land with a pestilence. Now therebe those far holier than I who have seen the like vision; but to me camethe word that I must go up to London, where this year the plague shallbe very sore, and as I go I must warn all men, that they may repent andamend, before this judgment fall on them. '

There was that in his voice and words that made Althea tremble like aleaf; she did not disbelieve in his visions while she heard him; but shestrove against the impression, and cried out, when she could find hervoice, that this was indeed madness. 

'You have no right, ' she said, 'to desert your natural and lawfulduties, and your poor kinswomen too, who are desolate; you will breakour hearts, you will ruin yourself, and all for a delusion. '

'It is no delusion, ' said he; 'your own words, Althea, have confirmedto me the truth of my mission. For it was said to me, "This shall be asign to thee, that Margaret, the widow of thy father's brother, liessick even to death; and thou shalt see her face no more, nor come underher roof. " And is it not so? for her face is buried out of oursight, '--his voice shook, --'so dost not see, Althea, I may not come inas thou wouldst have me? Furthermore, I believe my earthly pilgrimageshall come to its end in London; I cannot be sure; but, I think, Ireturn no more alive. That is why I hungered so for one last look atthee, Althea; also I wished as a dying man to entreat thee not todespise the Lord's poor people any more. Now I must go; farewell, dearheart, for ever;' and with these words he assayed to go; but, as shetold me afterwards, she clutched at his coat, passionately protesting heshould never go; and when he unlocked her hands, and besought her not tohinder him, she dropt on the ground at his feet, clasped him round theknees, and called on me with all her might. 

'Help, Lucia! help, sister!' were the words that woke me, and sent meflying with breathless speed to the place whence the call came. Iclimbed through the window which I found open, and ran to the spot whereI could discern that a struggle was going on; but as I came up Andrewhad got himself loosed; and, saying low and thickly to me, --

'Look to your sister, take her in instantly, ' he turned and fled as aman might flee for his life, while Althea threw herself on the coldground, moaning and sobbing like a creature mortally hurt. I took her inmy arms and raised her up, asking her, all amazed, was that indeedAndrew? but she did nothing but wring her hands and implore me to followhim and fetch him back; and I had much trouble to persuade her that wasuseless and hopeless for us at that hour of the night. At last she waswon to rise and return to the house; and we both found it a difficultmatter to get in where we had got out easily enough; which Mr. Truelocke, I doubt not, would have moralized in his pleasant way into asort of holy parable. But I have not that gift, and I suppose 'twas thehope in Althea's breast and the fear in mine which had raised our powersfor a moment and made a hard thing easy. 

[Illustration: 'Look to your sister, take her in instantly. ']

When we had recovered a little, and had got safely to my room, Althearecollected herself and told me every word that had passed; and we bothagreed that Andrew was running himself into new and strange dangers inpursuance of what he held as a Divine call. I noted it as a new thingin Althea, that she could no longer scoff at this belief of his in theinward heavenly voice that must be obeyed; but this matter was veryterrible to us; and we talked of it till daylight, without coming to anyconclusion as to what we were best to do about it. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

HOW A STRANGE MESSENGER BROUGHT US NEWS OF ANDREW. 

And now we had a time of unceasing disquiet. It was soon noised abroadthat the heir to the Grange was missing, and his house and lands leftmasterless; and there presently appeared first one and then another ofthe Goldings, far-off kinsmen of Andrew; these persons came to the houseto examine it, and talked much with the Standfasts; also they tried tofind out what my sister and I knew of Andrew's doings; some of them wentto York to talk with Aunt Golding's lawyer; and it was not hard to seethat they would have been glad to get certain news of Andrew's death. This made their coming hateful to us; but the house not being our own, we could not shut them out. We did what we could to get news of Andrew;but there was small comfort in the scanty intelligence we could glean, since it all pointed to his having indeed gone up to London, and havingpreached woe and judgment on his way thither. 

And had it not been that we sometimes got comfortable letters from Mr. Truelocke, telling of his quiet untroubled life in the Dale country, Ihad now been unhappy enough; for we were ever hearing tales of the evilhandling of all kinds of Dissenters; even young maidens and littlechildren being pelted, whipped, and chained for the crime of being ofQuaker parentage and belief, while hundreds of Nonconformists of thatsort and other sorts were thrown into prison and left there. I supposeit was the mad doings of the Fifth Monarchy men, as folks called them, which stirred up such a persecuting spirit; so at least said the peopleof our village, who now began to come about us again, with some show offormer kindness; but they proved very Job's comforters to us, by reasonof the frightful stories they loved to retail. 

There was one good soul whom I loved well to see, who yet gave me many aheart-quake; it was a Mrs. Ashford, wife to a small farmer near us; alad of hers had sailed with my Harry, and thus she would often come totalk over the hopes and fears we had in common, and to exchange with mewhatever scraps of sea-news we could pick up. So one day, as we sattalking, --

'It may be, ' says she, 'we shall see things as terrible here in England, as any that can befall our darlings at sea;' and I asking what shemeant, she told me she had learnt from certain poor seamen that thePlague was assuredly on its way to us, having been creeping nearer andnearer for a year and a half. 

'A Dutch ship from Argier in Africa, ' says she, 'brought it first toAmsterdam, where it grows more and more; and 'tis certain, in anotherDutch ship, a great one, all hands died of the Plague, the ship drivingashore and being found full of dead corpses, to the great horror anddestruction of the people there; which makes our people tremble, becauseof our nearness to Holland and our traffic with it. '

'I heard something of this, ' I said, 'last summer, but it seemed an idletale only, that died away of itself. '

'It is no idle tale, ' answered she; 'see you not, sweet lady, theinfection itself died away somewhat in the cold winter; but now thatspring comes on so fast, the sickness and people's fears of it revivetogether. You will see. '

Well, this news was frightful to me for Harry's sake. I began to tremblelest perchance the _Good Hope_ should be visited like that Dutch ship;but I did not breathe such a fear to Mrs. Ashford. And as the springdrew on, and war with the Dutch was in every mouth, we had a new terror;for now if our sailors came safe home, they could scarce escape beingimpressed for the king's service; so we knew not what to wish for. 

The spring being more than ordinarily hot, doubled the apprehensions ofthe Plague; and some time in April, as I think, news came down that ithad broken out indeed in London. 'Twas said it came in a bale of silk, brought from some infected city, and the fear of it increased mightily;and we, remembering Andrew's strange vision, were not less in terrorthan our neighbours. 

About that time I was busy one morning in the front garden, when agentleman in black came in at the gate, and was making up to the halldoor, when, espying me, he stopped, beckoning with his hand, and seemingto want speech with me. He was muffled in a cloak, and his hat pulledover his brows, so I could not tell who he was; yet I went to meet him, and when I was near enough, --

'I think, madam, ' says he, in an odd husky voice, 'you have a kinsmanwho took his way up to town some weeks ago? I bring news of him;' onwhich I begged he would come in and tell it to my sister also; but hesaid, --

'There is much sickness in town; I am newly come from it; it were moreprudent for me to speak with you here;' on which I ran and fetchedAlthea out; and the man said, 'I do not pretend, madam, that my news isgood news. Your kinsman demeaned himself strangely on his coming up, denouncing wrath and woe against the poor citizens, speaking much evilof both Court and City; I am told his civillest name for one was Sodom, and for the other Gomorrah. '

Here Althea said scornfully, if all tales were true, those names werefit enough; and the stranger replied, that might be, but civil speechwas best. 

'People took your kinsman's preachings very unkindly, ' he continued;'the more so when the Plague he prophesied of began to show itself; thenhe was called a sorcerer; and to make a long story short, he was takenup for a pestilent mad Quaker, and clapt into gaol. I looked on himthere; and in gaol he lies still, and may lie for me. '

With that he plucked his cloak away from his face, and, lifting his hat, made us a deep, mocking bow, and we saw it was Ralph Lacy; but such aghastly change I never saw on any man. His face was livid, his eyes, deep sunk in his head, glared like coals of fire; and when he began tolaugh, his look was altogether devilish. 

'You did not know me, pretty one, ' he said to Althea, 'did you? When Ihad seen Golding laid in gaol, I swore none but I should bring you thejoyful news; and I can tell you he is worse lodged than even his greatprophet, Fox himself, at whose lodging in Lancaster Castle I looked thisyear with great pleasure--very smoky, and wet, and foul it is. '

'Wretch!' said Althea; 'do you exult over the sufferings of harmless, peaceable men?'

'Harmless and peaceable, quotha?' said he; 'it was one of thesepeaceable creatures flung me into the dust like a worm; but the wormturns, you know. I took much pains to requite that kindness, and now Icry quits with Master Andrew. '

'Your wickedness shall return on your own head! I pray God it may!'cries Althea, trembling with indignation. 

'Past praying for, madam, ' said the reckless wretch, 'for I have thePlague upon me. I stayed too long up in town, out of love to your friendand mine. I shall be a dead corpse to-morrow; and why should not youhave the sickness as well as I?'

With that he came towards her, as if to embrace her, when we bothshrieked aloud, and turned to fly; and Matthew Standfast, comingsuddenly between us with a spade uplifted in his hand, bade themiserable man keep his distance, and asked what he wanted. On which Lacysaid wildly, --

'A grave, man--I want nothing but a grave, and any ditch will furnish methat, ' with which he went away. 

Matthew, good man, was troubled when we told him Lacy's words. 

'If the wretched fellow have the sickness indeed, ' he said, 'he mightdie in a ditch for all his own people care;' and that same night he wentto Lacy Manor, inquiring after its master. 

It proved that, on leaving the Grange, the man went straight home, andup-stairs to bed, saying he was weary, and must not be disturbed for anhour or two; and there he now lay dead. None of the servants hadguessed what ailed him, and they were taken with such a fear they wouldnot stay to see him buried, but fled, and laid that charge on poor, goodMr. Stokes, who discharged it with true Christian courage; after whichthe Manor was shut up for many a day, till the next heir's covetousnessgot the better of his fears. This matter caused great terror; but thePlague spread no further in our parish, and so the people forgot itsomewhat after a time. 

But Althea could not forget Lacy's words about Andrew, nor could Ipersuade her they were false tales spoken in pure despite; she broodedover them, remembering all the tales we had heard of good men'ssufferings in poisonous infected dungeons; and at last she said to me, --

'I wish Lacy had but said in what prison he saw our Andrew; however, itwas in London, Lucy? sure he said London?'

'Ay, ' said I, 'that's what he said, if you can pin any faith on theraving talk of a plague-stricken man. '

'He spoke truth, ' said she; 'I am too sure of it. Now there will not beso many gaols in London town, Lucy, but I can find out where Andrewlies; and if I cannot have him out, I can supply his wants at least. '

'Althea, Althea, you do not dream of going up?' I cried; 'it were sinfulmadness! By all accounts the sickness increases there from day to day;the poor people die like flies. '

'I care not, ' says she; and I found her immoveably set on taking thisjourney speedily. She was getting together all the money she could, andher jewels too, intending to turn them into money if needful; and shewas packing some clothes in very small compass, so as to carry themherself as she journeyed. 

'It is not likely, ' she said, 'that I shall find companions on such ajourney. I must learn to be my own servant. '

But I had soon resolved that one companion she should have, and thatshould be myself; so, after a few more vain efforts to shake herresolution, I acquainted her with mine; and with incredible trouble Igot her to agree to it, for I said at last that the roads were as freeto me as to her; if she so disliked my company as she said, she mighttake the right side of the way and I would take the left. 'But wherethou goest, ' said I, 'there will I go, Althea. '

'Take heed, ' she replied instantly, 'that it be not "Where thou diest Iwill die, and there will I be buried. "'

'So let it be, ' I said, 'if it is Heaven's will; but you go not upalone;' upon which she yielded, saying she had not thought I had so muchsturdiness. 

I cannot deny I thought it a mad expedition, though I dreamed not of thestraits into which we have since been driven. But I had prayed again andagain for guidance, and always it grew clearer to me that I must cleaveto my sister. So I made haste to get ready for our wild journey; andafter Althea's example, I sewed certain moneys and jewels into theclothes I wore, and put a competent sum in my purse. Then came thetelling the Standfasts of our intent. They opposed it at first with alltheir might, and no wonder; then, their anxiety about Andrew making themyield a little, Matthew took his stand on this, that we must have someprotector. 

'A man-servant you have at least, or you do not stir, ' quoth he. 

'But you cannot be spared from this place, ' we urged; 'and who else isthere faithful and bold enough for such a service?'

'Leave me alone for that, ' said he. 

And the evening before our departure he brought to us a strangeattendant indeed, but one who proved most trusty. It was a poor fellowof the village, who had once been in service at Lacy Manor; but theyoung Squire hated him, and got him turned away in disgrace, after whichno man would employ him, and he fell into great wretchedness. But Andrewcame across him, and not only relieved his distress, for he was almostdead for hunger, but put him in a way of living on his own land. So, partly for love of Andrew, and partly from true conviction, poor WillSimpson, so he was called, turned to the Quaker way of thinking. I donot know if he was acknowledged as a proved Friend, he had some oddnotions of his own. But he showed himself a peaceable, industriousfellow, and he loved Andrew as a dog might love a kind master that hadsaved it from drowning. Indeed there was something very dog-like abouthonest Will. Without having any piercing wit, he had a strange sagacityat the service of those he loved; and his dull heavy face sometimesshowed a great warmth of affection, making it seem almost noble. WhenMatthew told him wherefore he was wanted, he was all on fire to go. Heleft his hut, and work, and woodman's garb, Matthew having got him aplain serving-man's suit, in which he looked still a little uncouth; andthus he came eagerly to us and begged to be taken with us. Then with noescort but this poor fellow, who, however, knew the road well, and wasstrong and sturdy, we set forth on our way up to London, bidding adieuto none in West Fazeby, as the Standfasts had advised. I believe it wassupposed in the village that we were gone to Mr. Truelocke. 

CHAPTER IX. 

HOW WE WENT UP TO LONDON, AND FOUND NO FRIENDS THERE. 

I hoped little from the first plan on which Althea relied for obtainingAndrew's release. Her trust was in Mr. Dacre, since he was a greatcourtier, and she thought his influence might avail to get one poorQuaker set free. 

'I shall not get his help for nothing, ' said she; 'that were an idlehope. But I know his expenses to be very great, out of proportion to hismeans; so if I bring a heavy purse in my hand to interpret between himand me, I am sure of a kind and favourable hearing. ' She was almost gaywhile she dwelt on this plan, and it furnished the most of our talk onthe first day or two of our journey. 

It was very hot summer weather, a little sultry; yet travelling wouldhave been pleasant enough had our minds been easy, which they could notbe. It was hard to go fast enough for Althea, Will having to make herunderstand it was small wisdom to hurry our horses beyond theirstrength; then she went sighing out, --

'Oh for a horse with wings! or could one only ride on the speed of fire!It will be a week, I dare swear, before we see St. Paul's, ' and shegrudged herself time to eat and sleep. 

There was nothing very noticeable on the way, but the vast amazementexpressed by all who found that we were going up to London. And as wegot nearer our journey's end, we began to find that the inn-keepersdistrusted us not a little, suspecting us of escaping out of the town, and making only a false pretence of journeying up to it. Will, however, was so plainly a blunt, simple fellow, that his word was taken whereours was doubted. 

Now and then we heard news of the war: first there was talk of a greatvictory at sea over the Dutch, won the third day of June, at which theCourt and City were rejoicing mightily, half forgetting their homeperils; then came contrary news, how this victory was no victory, butrather a disgrace to us, and that our ships were shamefully commanded, which I believe was the truer tale; so my thoughts flew at once to myHarry and his father. I had writ to Mr. Truelocke about our journey, butthere had been no time for an answer; and I fell to musing what thosetwo would think of our wild adventure, and wondering if Harry had beenseized for the king's service, like many others; but all was vainconjecture, and I had to resign them and myself up to God's guidance;the safest and most blessed way, as I was fast learning; for since AuntGolding's death I think a change had come over me; I had learned a truehate of mine own sins, and had found One in whose sufficiency I couldtrust to save me from them, and to guide me in all things. I will notenlarge on this now, however. 

So with hopes and fears, despairing and trusting, the days of travelwore away; and late in a sultry summer evening we came into London. Weput up for the night at a decent inn, kept by some people named Bell, which our father had sometimes used when we were with him; the peopleremembered him, and were civil to us. My poor sister could scarce sleepall that night; and the landlady coming herself to wait on us atbreakfast, Althea took occasion to ask her, did she know Mr. John Dacre?and finding she did, she got from her particular information about hishouse, and the way to it, and the hours when he was to be found there;all which the good woman imparted cheerfully, but could not help pityingour rashness in coming up to town. 

'I live a dying life, ' she said, 'for terror of the contagion; I wouldnever have run into it;' which words we passed over at that time, buthad to call them to mind after. 

According to her information, Mr. Dacre rarely stirred from home beforenoon; so we set off betimes to find him. Will, walking behind us, lookedabout in amaze at the half empty streets, the many closed shops, andhouses uninhabited, and at last, fetching a great sigh, he said, --

'Methinks, mistresses, this whole town looks like a gaol, and the folkgo about like condemned prisoners. '

'Ay, ' says Althea; 'but there are worse gaols within this gaol, Will. Here, the sun shines and the wind blows on us; not so where your masterlies;' and she hastened her steps, which were swift before. 

Mr. Dacre's house proved to be a very stately and fair one, towards thewest end of the town; it stood in a broad, very quiet street; too quiet, I thought. Althea bade Will knock boldly at the door; 'We will not betoo humble, ' says she; and he knocked loudly enough, once, twice, thrice; but no one came to open to us, and our knocking seemed to echoand re-echo strangely through the house. 

'Sure, ' says Althea, 'all the folks cannot be asleep; 'tis past teno'clock, ' and she knocked once more. 

There was a gentleman come out of a neighbouring house, who had lookedcuriously at us; he now drew near, and, standing a little way off, called out, 'It is little use to knock at that door, ladies--the masteris dead a week since, and the house stands empty;' at which Altheaturned a deadly pale face to him, saying, --

'Do not mock us--sure, it cannot be so. '

The man, looking compassionately at her, now came up to us and said, 'Nay, my words are too true, madam. Have you any interest in this Mr. Dacre?'

'I am his cousin, ' said Althea, 'and I am come up from the North ongreat occasion, to see my kinsman and claim his help. '

'Alas!' said the gentleman; 'he is past rendering help to any. It wasmightily suspected, ' said he whisperingly, 'that he died of the Plague;but your great rich folks can smother these matters up. This is certain, that he had secret and hasty burial, and all his family are fled andgone, without so much as locking the door behind them, as it is said;but I think none have been so bold as to try that; men love their livestoo well to venture within; nor would I advise you to do it. '

'No, no, ' said Althea a little wildly; 'I will not take the Plague anddie--not yet; I have work to do;' at which the man smiled pityingly, andadded, --

'You would not find Mr. Dacre here now, were he in life--he designed tofollow the Court, which is removed to Salisbury for safety; but helingered about some money matters, which have cost him very dear, as Ithink;' and bowing to us he walked hastily away. 

Well, we knew not what to do now, and so returned to our inn, where wesat the rest of the day in the room we had hired, talking over our fewacquaintance in town, but unable to hit on one who would have will andpower to help us much. Our good hostess served us again at supper, andasked how we sped in our search for Mr. Dacre; so unthinkingly we toldher the whole tale; at which her colour changed and she left the roomwithout saying a word in answer. That night we slept heavily for verytrouble; so we were not aware of a great stir there was in the night;for Mrs. Bell, the poor landlady, was taken very ill about midnight, themaids were called up, and a physician sent for; they had some trouble tofind one; but when he came he told them plainly that her disorder, whichthey and she too had feared was the Plague, was nothing but pure terror;our careless words about Mr. Dacre's death having struck such a fear inher as to throw her into a kind of fever. 

Will told us this news in the morning, and we were grieved at ourfoolishness, and wondered at hers; but we had little time for lamenting, as we were setting forth to visit a distant kinswoman of our father's, who, being rich and well reputed, we thought might be able to help us. But here we fared no better, --not that the lady was dead; but she hadgone out of town on the first alarm of the sickness, leaving her houselocked up and empty, as the neighbours told us. So we went back to ourinn yet more cast down; but there we stayed not long, for we were scarcegot to our room when the landlord came to us, very angry, and said, hadhe known we had been visiting an infected house, we had never come intohis; and he bade us to pack up and be gone within the hour, that hemight have every place purified where we had come. Our horses, he said, might stand in his stable; but we saying we would remove them, he spokemore plainly, and said he should keep them as security for what we owed. 'I will take no money from you, ' he said; 'you may have the Plague inyour purses for all I know;' and he left us, saying if we went notquickly we should be put out by force. 

This brutal usage dismayed me; but Althea said, 'Poor wretch! he is halfcrazed with fear; that makes mean men cruel; care not for him;' and whenwe were ready, giving our packages to Will, she led the way out with adetermined aspect, having, as I soon found, embraced a strange--nay, adesperate resolution. For Will asking her, 'Which way will ye turn now, mistress? In _this_ street no inn will open to us, for sure;' shereplied, --

'We will not seek any inn; we will betake ourselves to our cousin'sempty house. '

'You mean not Mr. Dacre's?' I cried. 

'But I do, ' said she. 'We have a right to shelter there; and the dooris open. '

I exclaimed against this as a tempting of Providence, persuading herfirst to try some other house of entertainment; and at last she agreed. Now, whether our great distraction of mind gave us a haggard and sicklyaspect, or whether 'twas merely the suspicion and hardness of heart bredin all people by terror, I cannot tell; but no one would take us in, some saying flatly they would receive no lodgers they did not know, andknow to be sound. The day wearing fast away in these vain applications, Althea says to me, --

'You see we must try my plan at last. I bid you think scorn, my Lucy, ofyielding to such base fears as make folk turn us from their doors. '

'It is not that I fear infection as they do, ' said I; 'but I shrink fromdwelling in a house not our own, and lying open to any thief. '

'Baby fears, Lucy, ' she said, smiling. 'We will do our cousins a betterturn than they merit; we will keep their doors fast against thieves, andtheir household stuff from moth and mould and rust. For the infection, we run as little risk in that house as out of it. ' So she bore me downwith her will, the more easily since we had no choice but either tolodge in that house or in the open street. 

But Will said sturdily, 'Mistresses, you may do as you will; I willneither eat nor sleep in that evil house. There is a scent of death andsin breathing from it; I perceived it as we stood at the door. '

'And will you desert us then, Will?' said Althea. 'Have you come so far, to forsake us now?'

'Who spoke of forsaking?' growled Will. 'I can find some balk, somecobbler's stall, without the house, to sleep on, if you will lodgewithin. The watch-dog lies not in the house, I trow? But if you mustlodge there, enter not openly, nor let it be known you are within; youmay be suspected for thieves or worse. '

'Yours is no fool's advice, ' said Althea shortly. 

So we lingered out the time till nightfall in buying some needfulthings, --bread and meat and candles, --having to walk far before we foundshops open; then, as night thickened, we stole into the desolate house, and groped our way to a room at the back, where we lit our candles andlooked about us. 'Twas a richly furnished withdrawing-room, with windowsopen on a garden. 

'There will I sleep, ' said Will. 'I had rather have the free sky overme than this roof; so give me but a hunch of bread to sup on, and let mego. '

There was little use in crossing him, so we gave him some meat andbread; but we prayed his help first to make all the doors fast, which hewillingly did; then he showed us how to secure the window after him, andso slipt out into the night. 

Now we looked at one another, and felt desolate and dismayed for amoment. Then I said, 'Let us commend our cause to God, sister; He willhear us;' and we knelt down together and implored the Divine protection;after which we felt at peace, and so took courage to sup on the food wehad brought. Then we made fast our door on the inside, and lay down tosleep on the floor, with our mantles for coverlets and our bundles forpillows. I never slept in such rude fashion, nor ever more sweetly andsoundly. 

Early in the morning there came a tapping at the window that wakened me;so I rose and drew back the curtain, and saw that Will was moving aboutin the garden. We let him in shortly, and gave him some food, which hecarried with him out of doors; then, coming back, he excused hisincivility of the night before. 'But I cannot eat nor sleep here, ' saidhe. 'In all other matters I am your servant. '

He had lodged for the night in an empty dog-kennel, which he showed us, close against a side-door that led out to the street. 

'There, ' said he, 'I can do you better watchman's service than if I laywithin; and by that door you may come and go unespied of any gossips. '

Althea smiled, and commended his thoughtfulness. Then she said, --

'You will come with us now, Will? We must examine this house;' so hestepped in, shuddering, and looking round almost with horror. 

However rich the room, it was in great disorder; and when we wentup-stairs we found matters no better--beds half stript, chests andcabinets left open, floors strewed with things pulled forth in haste andleft there. We pitched on one sleeping-room to the back, to useourselves; and, having satisfied ourselves that no evil-disposed personlay hid in any room, we shut them all up (the keys being left in thelocks) except that sleeping-room, the parlour we had first entered, thekitchen, and one great room looking to the front, agreeing to use noother apartments; and to this rule we kept, except when, as I have told, I went a-hunting for means to write this history. 

That work of examining the house was terrible to me, especially when welooked into Mr. Dacre's own chamber. There we found a mighty rich bed, with hangings of silk and silver, and all the toilet furniture in silveralso; with couches and cushions richly wrought, and certain splendidgarments, with a jewelled sword, left flung upon them, as if the ownerhad just put them off; but all was disordered wildly, as if by the dyingstruggles of a madman, and the gorgeousness seemed to add to the horrorof it. I trembled as I looked at the glimmering mirror and thought ofwhat it might have reflected; our cousin's image seemed to rise up inall his pride and bravery as I last saw him, but with the ghastly faceof death; so I hurried out and flung the door to behind us, and Altheaturned the key in the lock. After which we avoided passing that way; forthe place was not less dreadful to her than to me; she acknowledged itmade her remember what we had heard of the great burying-pit in Aldgate, and the dishonoured corpses that were flung into it, heaps upon heaps. 

'He may have gone to that grave from this splendid chamber--it's ahideous mockery, ' she said. 

CHAPTER X. 

HOW WE DWELT IN A HOUSE THAT WAS NOT OUR OWN. 

And now Althea began her search after Andrew, with none to help her butpoor me and honest Will. Our chief care being not to be seen going outor coming in, she chose to steal forth of the back door early in themornings; sometimes I with her, sometimes Will, but one of us alwaysstaying in the house to watch it, and to open at nightfall to theothers. Althea went to such shops as she could find open and boughtthings, sometimes mere trifles, sometimes food and other necessaries, but always spending much time over it, and both listening to the talk ofother folk, and drawing the shop-people into talk herself; when shecontrived to work round to the prisons, and the poor souls in them, andhow they fared in these bad times. Once or twice she took a boat andwent up the river, and then was wondrous affable to the watermen, setting them talking also on the same matters; and thus she did withevery one whom she could draw to speak with her, not disdaining evenbeggars, nor fearing the watchmen who guarded houses supposed to beinfected, and therefore shut up. I confess that these last were people Iwould gladly have shunned, there being something so awful to me in thelocked doors (marked with a great red cross, and 'Lord, have mercy onus' writ large upon them) by which the poor fellows sat. But Altheaseemed to have said a long good-bye to fear. And with questioning andlistening, and piecing things together by little and little, she assuredherself that Andrew must be in Newgate, if he lay in any London prison. She had tried to find out by artful inquiries if any man had shownhimself in London, announcing a coming judgment, and warning people toavoid it, as Andrew had proposed to do; on which people informed her ofseveral such persons, but their descriptions answered not to our poorfriend. 

One man had cried up and down the streets, 'Yet forty days, and Londonshall be destroyed, ' after the fashion of the prophet Jonah; and anotherhad run about by day and by night, naked to the waist, and crying, 'Oh!the great and dreadful God!' and no other words; which struck a greatterror into all who saw and heard him; and yet a third, who was said tobe a Quaker, acted more strangely; but he was known by name to those whotold about him. Also in all these tales there was something frantic andunreasonable, not like Andrew, nor like the way he had designed to act. 

I think I myself saw one of these strange creatures. It was my turn tobe housekeeper, Althea wanting Will's help to carry her purchases homethat day. Such a solitary day was very dismal and heart-sinking to me;and had it not been for my plan of writing this history, I know not howI could have borne it. When it grew dusk I ventured to look out at afront window to see if my friends were coming; but what I saw was thelight of torches coming up the street, which was the sign of a funeral, it being ordered that people should only bury at night; and presentlycame by a coffin borne of four, and a great many people following; forit was wonderful how people crowded to funerals at this time, as ifdesperate of their lives. They stopt suddenly, to my terror, right infront of my window; but it was because of another crowd meeting them, and in its midst a tall man, moving very swiftly, and going straightbefore him. He was stript to the waist; and I thought at first that thehair of his head was all in a flame of fire, but it was a chafing-dishof burning brimstone that he had set upon his head, and which glaredthrough the darkness. As he met the coffin he made a stand, and lookedupon it. 

[Illustration: 'I think I myself saw one of these strange creatures. ']

'Yet one more, ' he said, in a deep hoarse voice, --'one more has fallenin his sins! but ye do not repent. Woe, woe, woe to this unfaithfulcity!' and he went on again directly, but continued to cry 'Woe, woe!'as long as I could hear him; the people running after and around himcould scarce keep up with his swift pace. Those who were bearing andfollowing the coffin had seemed struck with horror; but now they gotinto order again; and I heard one near the window bidding themsneeringly never to heed a mad Quaker, while another said aloud, 'Imarvel such an evil-boding fool is left at large, when far quieter folksof his sort lie rotting in prison;' words which made me fain to hearmore; but the men all moved off, and I had scarce seen their torches gotwinkling away into darkness, when I heard the signal at the back door, and hurried joyfully to let in my friends, who had been delayed bymeeting the funeral; but they had missed the other strange spectacle. 

As I remember, this was the second Saturday we spent in town; and here Imay say that almost every Lord's Day which found us in our dismal abode, we two made our way to some church at a good distance, and there joinedin worship. 

I never saw churches more crowded, worshippers more devout, ministersmore fervent. We understood by what we heard that not a few clergymenwere dead of the Plague, and others fled for terror; because of whichcertain of the silenced ministers were called on to fill those vacantpulpits; and they did so while the Plague lasted, with great zeal andboldness, no man saying them nay. But neither the courage of these men, nor the fervency with which they preached and visited among the sick anddying, could so far recommend them to Will that he would set foot inwhat he called the steeple-houses; so on the Lord's Day we had todispense with his attendance, and this troubled me; but on the otherhand there was comfort in seeing how my poor sister rejoiced in theministerings of these faithful men. A great change showed itself inher; she was full of a new tenderness to me, and was most mild andpatient with poor Will and his odd ways; and as for him, I believe hewould have died for her, or done anything that she desired, exceptlodging in Mr. Dacre's house, or worshipping in a church. 

Now when Althea had assured herself she must look for Andrew in Newgateand in no other prison, she set herself to get admission there. 'No lockso hard, ' she said to me, 'but will go with a golden key. '

So she put money enough in her purse. She took Will with her, clad in asuit fit for a plain country gentleman, for she wished it to be thoughthe was one who had power to protect her; and, having found out thekeeper of Newgate, she bought from him at a great price leave to visithis gloomy wicked kingdom, and to relieve poor creatures lying in it forconscience sake. 

Now, had she relieved all who professed that they were such as shesought, she might have spent the wealth of both Indies; for it wasshocking how many utter reprobates pressed up to her and to Will, claiming that they were imprisoned for matters of religion; but theirbrazen countenances, that bore the deep impress of their wickedness, witnessed against them. With great trouble she found out at last a fewof the sort she wanted, and then began to ask for Andrew by name; but noone seemed to know aught of him; the keeper too professed ignorance ofany such person. But her belief was strong that he lay within thosewalls, and she went again and again on the same errand. 

Now I could never get her leave to go with her to Newgate. She said atfirst that Will, being a man, was more useful to her than I could be;but afterwards she owned that the prison was so vile and hideous a placeshe could not endure I should see it. 

'There is no need, ' she said, 'for more than one of us to behold suchmonstrous evil. 'Tis a society of fiends, Lucy, a training-school forall vice, and the keeper is worthy of it. I think it is not less thanacted blasphemy to throw good men into it; as well send them alive intohell. The Lord look upon it, and require it. '

'Are there any of the Friends shut up there?' I asked. 

'There have been hundreds, I am told, ' she said; 'even now there are toomany, but they die daily of fever and misery;' and she stopped short, presently saying, 'If I find him not, I will not repent of my search. Ihave fed some starving saints already. ' So she continued her visits andher inquiries. 

But I began to find it an almost unbearable penance to stay within doorsalone in her absence; I prayed and struggled for composure, but couldnot attain it, and at last I said I must go out sometimes to breathe theair. She warned me of perils awaiting me if I walked abroad by myself, but I got some poor coarse black clothes that I put on, and a hood tohide my face; and I sometimes added to these a cloth tied about my neck, such as I had seen on poor creatures who had sores. It was an artifice, but I hope not a sinful one; for in this disguise, and contriving tobehave like a sick languishing person, I was more terrible to disorderlypeople than they to me, and they kept at a good distance from me. Thus Itook many a walk about the streets; but my chief comfort was only to seea variety of dismal objects. The street where we dwelt was quitegrass-grown and empty; I do not think there were above two inhabitedhouses in it, nor would you see above half a dozen people go through it, in all the length of the summer's day. Of the passengers that I metelsewhere, I think two out of every three were poor sickly objects withsores and plasters upon them; and sometimes it was my luck to meetcoffins of those dead of the sickness; for now there could be no strictobserving of the rule to bury them by night, the number of such funeralsincreasing at a frightful rate. 

CHAPTER XI. 

HOW THERE CAME NEW GUESTS INTO THE HOUSE. 

The last day that I ventured out in this foolhardy manner I had aterrible fright which even now it is distasteful to remember. I washurrying to get home, being warned by the darkening light that it wasdrawing near Althea's time to return, and, chancing to look behind me asI turned a corner, I was aware that not many paces from me was a man, tall and sturdy, who seemed to be following me, his eyes being fixed onme; and when I turned it seemed to give him a kind of start, for helooked away, and made as if he would cross to the other side. Thisalarmed me, and I quickened my pace from a walk almost into a run, resolving meanwhile not to look round again; yet I could not resist thefancy that I heard steps coming after me; and glancing over my shoulderI was aware of some one at no great distance off; on which I dared lookno more; and, being now very near home, I darted round to the backentrance; and having got in and made the door fast, I sat downtrembling, to get my breath. 

I was still much disquieted, when I heard the joyful sound of Althea'ssignal at the back door; I flew to open to her, my hands trembling so Icould hardly withdraw the bolts. But when I got the door open, it wasnot Althea who stood without, but that very man whom I had tried toescape; he stood with his back to the sky, which was red and glowing, for it was just past sunset; and I saw him to be tall and powerful androughly clad, so sunburnt that he might have been a Moor; and a longscar that ran from his eyebrow half across his cheek gave a strangefierceness to his look. This was all I could see, his back being to thelight, such as it was. I gave a smothered shriek, and would have shutthe door on him; but he said, --

'Not so hasty, mistress--look at me again, and you will not turn meaway, I think. '

But I still held the door in my hand, and said hastily, 'I can admit nostranger--you should know this house is infected--what do you seek?' atwhich the man's eyes, which I saw to be blue and bright, began totwinkle, and he said, --

'You will think it odd, madam, but I am come seeking my true love--LuciaDacre is her name; do you know aught of her?' with which words hesmiled, and all his face changed in that smile into the face of my ownHarry. 

My heart sprang up in sudden rapture; I think, as the play says, it'leaped to be gone into his bosom, ' for there I found myself the nextmoment, clasped tight in his arms, and holding him tight enough too, while I laughed and sobbed, crying out, 'Are you indeed my Harry? am Iso blest beyond all other women? have you come back to me, alive fromthe dead?'

'You may say indeed, sweetheart, that I am alive from the dead, ' he saidseriously; 'in a double sense I was dead and am alive again. But my talemust wait for a better time. I am sent before, dear love, to tell youyour sister is coming, and not coming alone. '

'Who is coming with her? any one beside Will? have you come to say shehath found Andrew? has she indeed?' I cried. 

'Ay, ' said Harry, 'he is found; but I fear we may lose him again. Haveyou here a place, Lucy, here a dying man may lie softly and easily, thelittle time he has left? If not, make one ready quickly--but no stairsfor him, remember. I would help you, dear heart, ' he said tenderly, 'were it not that I must keep watch here for their coming. '

I turned my lips to his hand, as I unclasped my arms from him; then Iflew to do as he had bidden. I dragged the coverings off our own bed andhastily spread a couch in that room where we commonly sat; I set lights, food, cordials in readiness on the table; then I ran back to the door, half afraid my Harry would have vanished like a dream; but there he was, watching yet; so I took my place beside him, and loaded him withquestions about the finding of Andrew. I learned he had a large share init. 

'A poor seaman who loved me, ' he said, 'met me this morning when Ilanded at Woolwich; and he testified such extravagant joy on seeing methat I own I half thought him mad. '

'Then what can you think of me?' I put in; at which Harry said, --

'Nay, Lucy, you were ice compared to this poor fellow. He is one thathath tasted Andrew's bounty, and that not long since; for his wifesickened of the Plague, and our Andrew at his own cost provided aphysician for her, and many other comforts; and 'tis owing to that, theman thinks, that she is now sound and well. '

'Where was this?' I said, wondering. 

'Here, in London, ' said Harry. 'Now close on this woman's recovery camethe seizing of Andrew, and 'tis but lately that the poor grateful sailordiscovered how his benefactor had been lying long in Newgate, where hewas thrown by one Ralph Lacy's procurement. '

'Ah!' I said, 'that wretch! but he has paid for it, Harry. But why couldAlthea never find Andrew before?'

'I cannot tell by what devilish prompting it was, ' he said, 'that Lacybore Andrew and every one else down, that his true name was not Golding, but Dewsbury--William Dewsbury, as I think; and that he had shifted hisname to avoid prosecution, having been once imprisoned already; andwhat our poor friend said to the contrary being slighted as a lie, histrue name has never been given him. So inquiry after him has beencrippled; and not by this means only. '

'But if this sailor be so grateful, why did he not come to our poorfriend's help?' I said indignantly; but Harry said, sighing, --

'A destitute seaman! why, there be throngs of them and their wivesstarving in the streets, and cursing the navy officers because theycannot get their own hard wages. And this was why my poor fellow showedsuch frantic joy on seeing me--'twas for love of Andrew; he hurried histidings on me, and bade me hasten to the gaol and relieve my friend;himself going there with me, else I had not sped so well. '

Now how Harry sped at the prison I learnt afterwards; for at this pointhis tale was cut short; but I will put the story here, where it seemsfittest. 

By great good fortune Althea encountered with Harry and the seaman NedGiles at the very gate of the prison, and she soon bought leave to visitthe prisoner called William Dewsbury, who lay under lock and key in avery filthy cell, and had latterly been denied even bread and water, because his money being spent he could not satisfy his gaoler's demands. They found him lying on a heap of mouldy straw; he was miserably wasted, and to all seeming lifeless; yet they knew him at once for Andrew; andHarry perceived there was life yet in him. Althea, however, seeing himlie as if dead, rose into fiery indignation; she turned to the gaoler, saying, in a terrible voice, --

'See there, murderer! that is your work--the blood of this man shall lieon your soul for ever--it shall drown you in perdition!' at which hecowered and shrank ('and well he might, ' said Harry), stammering out'twas an oversight, a pure accident; and she going on to threaten himwith law and vengeance, he asked hurriedly, would not the lady like toremove the poor man, and give him honourable burial? at which Harrywhispered her, 'Take his offer quickly; say not a word more of revenge;'and Althea, guessing his meaning, softened her tone a little, andconsented to the man's proposal. 'Get me only a coach, ' said she, 'and Iwill have this poor lifeless body to mine own home; and I will notcharge you with the murder. '

So they fetched a coach; but the driver, seeing as he thought a dead manbrought out and laid in it, flung down the reins and refused to drivethem. 

'I am well used to drive sick folks, ' he said (indeed that was now thechief use of hackney coaches), 'but a corpse I never drove and neverwill. '

Althea, however, stepped in herself, and bade Will get on the box andtake the reins; then whispering to Harry, she told him where to find me, and begged he would prepare me for her coming. 'I shall soon master thisknave's scruples, ' she said; 'he is but bringing them to market, and Iam ready to buy them;' and as I suppose, she paid a heavy price for theuse of that coach for an hour, saying her man should drive it to herhouse and then return it empty to the coachman. 

For while Harry and I stood talking at the door, his tale was broken bythe rumbling of wheels; and the coach coming lumbering up, we perceivedWill to be the driver. 

'That is well, ' said Harry; 'it will not be known where you dwell. ' Ashe spoke the coach stopped, and Althea put aside the close-drawncurtains. She called Harry to her, and said softly, --

'Now help me to lift him, good friend--but be very gentle; he lives, hespeaks, but he is deadly weak;' and with infinite care she and Harrylifted out a poor shrunken figure that seemed light as an infant intheir arms; and I leading the way they brought it in and laid it on thecouch I had got ready; there Althea, sitting down, drew Andrew's head onto her bosom, supporting him with her arms, and murmuring tender wordsin his ear. Harry stayed to speak a word to Will before he drove off, and then returning he stood by me a moment and gazed with me at thosetwo; 'twas a sight to chain one's eyes fast, to see Althea's face, stillheavenly fair in spite of her anguish, bending over Andrew's, which waslivid in colour, all but fleshless, and the eyes deep sunk in theirsockets; yet he smiled, a smile full of a strange radiance; and he movedhis colourless lips, saying something which Althea bent her head verylow to hear; then looking up wildly and seeing Harry, --

'Have you brought a physician?' she cried; 'there is no time tolose--he is dying for lack of help. '

'That he shall not, ' said Harry, who was now knelt beside Andrew, andoffering a cordial to his lips; 'here is no disease but hunger, dearlady--I have learnt by sharp experience how to minister to that;' and intwo hasty words he bade me go and warm some broth, of which luckily Ihad told him; so I went quickly. 

Now when I came back I saw there was more company in the room; for Willhad come in, and with him a man and woman; but I did not note them much, for it seemed to me that Andrew was swooning, his eyes being closed. ButHarry took the broth from me and began to feed Andrew with it; and atthe warm scent of the food he revived a little. It charmed me to see thetender skill which my Harry showed in his ministerings. As I stoodlooking on, the woman came up to me, and with a sort of simple grace letme know who she was; 'twas Mary, the wife of Ned Giles, the seaman, andthe man with her was Giles himself. 

'You will forgive us, madam, ' she said, 'for thrusting our company onyou unbidden; it's for love of this your kinsman we come, Mr. Truelockehaving sent us word we could be useful about him. '

'Kay, ' I said, 'never ask forgiveness for such goodness; do you knowthis house is reputed to be infected?' but she said, smiling, --

'Madam, I who was all but dead of the Plague not long since have littlefear of it left. '

While she spoke I saw that Harry was urging something on Althea, who wasstill sitting at Andrew's head; she answered at last, 'As you will. Imay not gainsay you;' and yielded up her place to that good woman, whocame eagerly to take it when Harry called her. 

'Now go and rest awhile till we call you--you have need, ' Harry said tous; but Althea, as if she heard him not, stood looking down on Andrewand his nurse. 

'Does God forget His own?' she muttered; 'is this the reward of Hisservants? chains, cruelty, starvation?'

Andrew must have caught her words, for he half raised his head, and hislanguid eye brightened. 

'Dear heart, ' he said feebly, 'thou knowest little yet. Thou hast seenmy prison, thou didst not see the Heavenly Guest who made it a heavento me; thou hast seen me lacking bread, thou knowest nought of theangels' food with which He fed me. '

As he said this he sank down again, but Mary Giles caught him in herarms; and Harry said imperiously to Althea and me, --

'Leave him to us; it is best he should not speak; get you to your ownrest, you need to renew your strength; so we went meekly enough, Altheasaying when we were in our sleeping-room, --

'Harry hath got the trick of command very perfect, that's certain; and Imay say, Lucy, I am weary at last of ruling over you and Will; it's notamiss there is one here who has a mind to rule me instead. '

Then we knelt down together and gave thanks for the great mercy of theday; and we implored passionately that the life of Andrew should begiven back to us. Althea at the end of our prayer still remainedkneeling; then beginning to weep she sobbed out, 'I think, I hope, I cansay, "His will be done, " but oh, 'tis hard, Lucy!' And she was so tornand shaken with her passion that I thought she would take no rest thatnight. But in five minutes after our heads touched the pillow we wereboth sleeping soundly: and we woke not till there came a knocking at ourdoor, very early in the morning, and Will's voice praying us to descendand take some food. 

CHAPTER XII. 

HOW WE SAILED FOR FRANCE IN THE 'MARIE-ROYALE. '

We found our friends where we had left them; the grey dawn glimmering inat the window showed us Andrew lying in a quiet slumber; and he lookednothing so death-like as the night before. But the others appearedhaggard and weary, as well they might; for none of them had slept a winkthe night through. Yet joy spoke from the poor wan faces of Mary Gilesand her husband. They had helped in the tending of Andrew with wonderfulskill and care, and now they were rejoicing in a good hope that he wouldyet recover. 

There was a meal spread, of which they had already partaken; and we werenow bidden to sit and eat also, as quickly as we might. It was Harry whogave us these orders, with a stern anxious look, which daunted me alittle. When we had eaten, --

'Now leave us with our friend, ladies, ' he said, 'and gather alltogether in readiness to depart; this house shall not hold us anotherhour;' and Althea hesitating, and saying Andrew was hardly in case todepart, 'That knave gaoler, ' he said, 'who had hid Andrew from you solong, had strong reasons for doing it; is there no fear, think you, thathe may suspect there was life in the dead man whom we removed? Would youhave our practice detected and the prisoner seized again?'

It did not need more to set wings to Althea's feet; so we made haste andgathered up all our belongings, and came down again with our bundlespacked and our travelling suits donned, long ere the hour was passed. 

Yet for all our haste, we found they had made better speed than we. There stood a coach waiting, into which they had already lifted Andrew;he was muffled in a long cloak that I had flung off the night before. The two Gileses had him in their care, and Will was again acting asdriver (I believe 'twas the very coach of the previous night); he wastaking Harry's orders as to driving at a very soft pace to the neareststairs, 'where, ' said Harry, 'we will meet you; these ladies will walkwith me. '

We saw them drive off; then I made fast the outer door, and Harry tookthe key from me, and flung it over the wall into the garden. 

'Let any find it who list, ' said he. 'I thank God we are quit of thehideous place. How you have endured to dwell there day and night passesmy comprehension. '

'Why, ' said I, 'is it not a glorious rich house?'

'A house of sin and pride and death, ' said he, 'I grant you. '

'You are of Will's mind, ' says Althea; 'he never would eat or sleep init. '

'If that be Will's mind, ' said he, 'I approve his wisdom. And now, heyfor Father Thames and his silver streams, and the sweet salt air of thesea! Here, take my arm, fair lady, ' he said to Althea as we went along;'I have my doubts of your obedience--Lucy I can trust to come with me offree will. ' So she took his arm, and said, smiling faintly, --

'At least indulge me so far as to tell us whither we are bound?'

'You heard me say, ' he answered, stepping on briskly, 'to the neareststairs; I have a boat ready there, and we will slip down the river to aship I wot of that lies near Woolwich. I own, ' he went on, 'it's amighty risk to run, with Andrew in such a feeble case; yet I see nobetter way. ' And in hasty words he told us how poor was our chance ofgetting clear away from the plague-stricken city by land. 

'London is something of a mouse-trap now, ' said he, 'or a lion's den, ifyou like a statelier image; the way in is easy enough, but the way outis more difficult than the steep and thorny path to heaven. Every townand village we should come to would rise against us with hue and cry, and drive us back to the city, to perish there; so cruel are men becomethrough fear of the contagion. '

Althea's pale cheek grew paler as she listened; and she said, 'Alas, myLucy! into what a snare have I brought you! and all through pride andself-will. '

'Nay, sweet sister, ' said I, 'do not miscall your compassion, and thedaring of your spirit, which led you here. '

'There was pride and wilfulness in it too, ' said she; 'and look what arebuke Heaven gives me! it is not I that rescue Andrew; it is Harry andpoor Giles. '

'Tut, tut!' said Harry; 'do not abuse yourself overmuch. You had foundAndrew long since, but for the evil mind of Ralph Lacy, who had boughtyon keeper with a mighty bribe, and commanded that Andrew should be keptout of sight, if ever you made inquiry after him. '

This piece of intelligence struck us silent till we got to the stairs, going down which we found a roomy boat awaiting us, in which werealready the rest of our little company, except Will; and he appearingbefore we were well settled in our places, sprang in after us, and saidjoyfully, as he took an oar, --

'That coachman had fain learnt from me who it was I had carried down tothe river; but I can be deaf upon occasion;' from which I gathered thathe had been commissioned to restore the coach to its owner. 

The sun came up as we began to glide down the stream, and a millionlittle sparkling waves flashed back his reflection as we rowed on; whichwas the only cheerful part of the scene, I thought; for all our companywere grave and silent, and Andrew, though the calmest of us, looked solike death that I could find no pleasure in his peaceful aspect. 

And the river itself, which I had formerly seen so gay with all kinds ofcraft, watermen plying up and down constantly, and great sea-going shipscoming and going, and lesser vessels crowding the noble stream, nowseemed as desolate as the town that lay on its banks; only as we went onwe came to many ships lying at anchor, by two and two; sometimes two orthree lines of these ships lay in the breadth of the river, and as wethreaded our way between them, men, women, and children came and lookedover the sides at us. 

I was glad to break the silence that had settled on us, and I asked whatwas the reason of these long rows of ships being thus moored idly nearthe shores? on which the good Mary Giles, who had again the office ofsupporting Andrew, speaking softly, told me how they were the refuge ofmany hundreds of families, fled out of London, who hoped in this way toescape the contagion. 

'I do not know, ' she said however, 'that they do always escape as theyhope. Many a device did I practise myself to keep myself whole andsound, and some mighty foolish ones; but it pleased the Lord to drive mefrom all those refuges of lies, and to show me that He only can kill andmake alive. To my thinking, a fearless, believing heart is the bestcharm against the Plague. '

'Ay, ' says Harry; 'that is the best charm doubtless. But we shall findit not amiss to keep our dwellings cleaner and sweeter here in England;with faith and courage and cleanliness, we might defy the foul fiendPestilence. You shall not find that it makes so great ravages, evenamong the Dutch. ' With that he bit his lip, as though a secret hadescaped him; however no one but myself noted him; and the others nowbegan to talk more freely; and Mrs. Giles from time to time bestirredherself about nourishment for Andrew, which Harry had been careful toprovide; he said a man so nigh dead of hunger must have food often, butin small quantities. So our party grew cheerfuller, ever as the streamgrew broader, and we began to breathe the salt breeze that blew inland. 

We ventured to question Harry about the ship that would receive us; andhe said she was a French merchant-ship, and the captain a great friendof his, a good Protestant, who was willing to take on board any companyhe should bring. 

'I hoped, ' said I, 'it might have been the _Good Hope_. '

'Alas for my poor _Good Hope_!' said he; 'she went to pieces in a mightystorm, on the hard-hearted coasts of Africa; and such of my bravefellows as were not drowned were seized for slaves by the barbarouspeople of Algiers. '

'And you, Harry, what was your lot?' I cried. 

'The lot of a slave for many a day, ' said he briefly. 'It is thanks tomy good friend Captain Maret, who will soon receive us, that I have everseen my country again. '

I would gladly have asked more, but I saw he was little inclined totalk; and after he had said, 'The ship we are going to board is calledthe _Marie-Royale_, ' he fell again into a silence; but the rest of uscontinued to keep up some sort of talk, till we got down by Woolwich;and this seemed to help our courage a little, --I mean Althea's and mine, especially when Andrew would say a few words, as he began to do, in away that showed reviving strength. 

Now I had never gone by sea anywhere, and all my sailing had been inwherries on the Thames; so I was not free from some childish fear whenwe came beside the _Marie-Royale_, and saw her black sides rising highand steep above us; but joy sat on every other face in our littlecompany; and Harry's voice was gay once more as he shouted an answer toCaptain Maret, who came and hailed us from above. 'Twas a matter of somedifficulty to get Andrew safely hoisted on deck; yet they did it withoutgiving too rude a shock to his enfeebled frame. I confess, when it cameto my turn to mount, I shut my eyes for fear, and never opened them tillI found Harry's arm about me, and a firm footing under me; and I heardhis voice merrily mocking me for a poor little fool, who was ready toswoon at fancied perils, and was reckless of real ones. So then I lookedabroad again, and seeing myself encircled with all our company, whowere smiling at my terrors, while the dark, kindly face of the captainbeamed a welcome on me, --I laughed first, and then wept; and thenclasping my hands began to thank and praise God for our gooddeliverance, as if I were in an ecstasy; but now no one laughed at me, but heads were uncovered, and eyes cast down in thankful prayer also, all around me; the French sailors who had helped us to come aboardshowing themselves not less reverent than our handful of English, andindeed appearing to be much moved. Then Andrew, who stood supported bythe arms of Ned and Mary Giles, looked smiling at me, and said, in hisfeeble voice, --

'Thou shamest me much, my sister Lucy; I who was deepest in peril oughtto have been foremost in praise;' and Harry replied bluntly, --

'Till you know something of the dangers these ladies have run, you neednot be more grateful than they; but your further thanks must be renderedin your cabin, where I long to have you lodged before we get underweigh. '

'That shall be soon, ' said the captain. 'We have but stayed for yourcoming; and see! the wind has shifted since we sighted you, and blowsfair for our departing. '

He moved away as he spoke and began giving his orders; while Harrymarshalled us down to our cabins, saying gaily, 'Ay, the merry windblows from the land now; 'twas against us as we rowed, and I had myfears; but all's well that ends well--the Lord be praised therefor!'

'Tell us whither this kind wind is to blow us?' I asked, and he saying, 'So it is not enough for you to be with me where I go?' I answeredboldly, 'By no means;' on which, laughing, he said, 'I will talk withyou soon, sweetheart, on that point and many others; but now let us lookto Andrew. ' So I and my curiosity had to wait awhile; for when Andrewand his faithful nurses were settled below, Harry went on deck; and Isat by Althea, something sick at heart for all my joy, while, with manystrange noises of rattling and creaking and trampling overhead, our shipshook out her great wings and spread them for flight. But at last thewater slipping past our cabin windows showed we were standing out tosea; and then came Harry and sat down beside us. Andrew had fallenasleep, and Giles and his wife sat watching him a little way off; sothere was nothing to break in on Harry's story. 

'Now first of all, my Lucy, ' said he, 'you must know whither we arebound; 'tis to Calais, for there is Captain Maret due, and over-due, having come to Woolwich only for my sake, and yours, as it hath proved. Then at Calais I have intelligence that we shall find a ship bound forHull, by which we may go thither, and so home to our father in theDales. '

'Do you know, ' I said, 'I suspected your design to be for Holland?'

'Well, ' said he, 'I had such a thought for Andrew. There be friends inthat country, with whom he might be sheltered till England should besafe for him once more. But it dislikes me to have dealings with anycountry at war with mine own--mad and wicked though the war be on ourpart. '

'All England is gone mad and wicked, I think, ' said Althea; 'for myshare I care not much if I never see it more. '

'You will change that thought, I hope, ' said he. 'But now, my Lucy, Ihave a request and a petition to you. Captain Maret will bring us atCalais to a clergyman of the English Church whom he knows there; willyou consent for the good man to join our hands? 'tis long since ourhearts were knit, I trow. '

'What are you asking of her?' said Althea; 'should not such a marriagebe celebrated on English ground?'

'So it shall, ' said he; 'for we will be wedded on board the ship thatshall take us to Hull; and her planks, being those of an English vessel, are reckoned English ground. Now, what says my dear heart?' and as Iblushed and stammered, 'I warrant you, ' said he, 'Lucy is struck dumb atmy presumption in talking of wedlock, my good ship being gone to wreck, and I myself newly loosed from slavery. '

'Harry!' I cried, 'how dare you think so meanly of me? I who have beendelighting in the thought of pouring all my little wealth at your feet, and bidding you freight a new ship with it; but perhaps you are tooproud--you will refuse it?'

'Nay, I refuse neither it nor thee, my Lucy, ' he said, 'the less becauseI can counterpoise my darling's little purse with something weightier. 'And he told us briefly how in his captivity he had risen very high inhis Moorish master's favour, having had the good fortune to save theman's life at the risk of his own. 

'There were two rascals set on my master to murder him, for certainprecious jewels that he wore, ' said he; 'and I had the luck to lay themboth low, though I got this little remembrance first from the fiercestof them, ' touching as he spoke the scar upon his cheek. 'And with thatstroke, ' he went on, 'I purchased my freedom, and something more; forthe Moor conferred on me freely those gems that the thieves had coveted;they are worth a little fortune. After this my only care was to find aship to bring me home; of which I was almost in despair, when the goodMaret came to my rescue, which he effected with great skill andboldness. Nor do I know how I could have got you clear of London, butfor his readiness to help me once again. '

This was Harry's history, which he made very dry and short; for he hatesto dwell on his own doings or sufferings. I have got from him since manyparticulars of the story, and I think it were more worthy of pen andink than this poor tale of our homely joys and sorrows, but he thinksnot so; and it is at his bidding I have written all this last part, telling how he brought us safely out of London. 

CONCLUSION. 

HOW LUCIA DWELLS IN ENGLAND, AND ALTHEA OTHERWHERE. 

There is little more to write now. I did not care to cross Harry's wishin the matter of our wedding, to which both the good Mary Giles andAlthea herself urged me to consent; only I had always hoped that myfather Truelocke himself should join our hands; and when I whisperedthis to Harry, he said, 'If you cannot be content without it, sweetheart, my father shall marry us over again when we get toDent-dale. But I will not go back to England till I can call you wife. '

So my last defence fell; and wedded we were on board the _Diamond_, agood English ship that we found lying at Calais, according to Harry'sintelligence. I did not forget that promise of his, and in due time Iheld him to it; but before I wind up mine own story I will relate thatof my sister; for our lives, that have run so long in one channel, aredivided now, since Althea sailed not with us to England; and I will showthe reason presently. 

That imagination which Harry had once entertained of Andrew's passinginto Holland and being safe there as an exile proved to be no impossibledevice, in spite of the war between the English and the Dutch. For whilewe still lay at Calais in the _Marie-Royale_ (I must ever admire hercaptain's courage in taking us poor fugitives on board, even thoughHarry was warrant for our soundness), there came letters from certainFriends called Derricks, of the Dutch nation. They had heard of Andrew'sstrange escape from prison, I wot not by what means; for the Friendshave their own ways of learning news of one another. These good peoplewilled him to go make his home under their roof in Amsterdam; and he wasvery fain to seek that shelter, being exceedingly weary in spirit, asone half spent with toil and grief; only two things held him back. Theone was his love for our dear and cruel country England, which made himshrink from dwelling in a land at enmity with her; and the other was mysister. Now the first scruple Harry overcame thus. 

'You needs must dwell in some foreign land, ' he said, 'for England isaltogether unsafe for you. Should you choose France, as Captain Maretwould have you, you choose a land chiefly Papist, and now full ofoppression; and my life on it, there will be war between France andEngland this very winter, ' a saying which proved too true. 'So thebalance must dip in favour of Holland, a Protestant country, where youshall live under just laws and among faithful friends who believe as youdo. Is not this worth weighing, brother?' and Andrew said, 'It is, ' butyet he hesitated; and I needed not the sight of his questioning look atAlthea, nor of her dropt eyelids and whitening cheek, to guess thereason of his hesitation. 

The next morning after we had this talk, Harry, Althea, and I were satidly on deck, basking in the sunshine, and drinking the sweet air, whilewe watched the sailors at work; when we saw Andrew come feebly towardsus, at which we sprang up surprised, for he had not heretofore risen soearly, because of his great weakness. Althea would have had him rest onthe cushions from which we had risen, but saying, 'I would rather standawhile, ' he leaned on Harry's shoulder for support; and indeed he lookeddeathly when his white and wasted face was seen beside Harry'scountenance, all bronzed with sun and wind, and glowing with health andlife. 

'Althea Dacre, ' he said, looking steadily at her, 'I have sought allnight long for a light on the path I must now take; and a word is everin my ears, "Speak to the maiden thou lovest, her word shall lead thee!"Thou knowest I were loth to part from thee, who hast sought me and spentthyself for me--and more loth to think that we are parted in spirit. Yetif thy heart be not as my heart towards God, we must be parted now andever. I implore thee, speak the perfect truth to me, and do not colouror change it. '

'And I will speak truth, ' she said proudly, 'as if I stood before anangel of God; and it shall not grieve you. Andrew Golding, thy peopleshall be my people, and thy God my God. The Church that I dreamed of, the Church I would have died for, was not a Church stained with innocentblood. I will cast in my lot, now and for ever, with the only Christianpeople that have never persecuted another--the only one, I verilybelieve, that follow whithersoever the Master leads. '

At this Andrew's pallid face glowed as if a clear flame shone throughit; he stretched out his hands to Althea, and she gave him both hers, continuing to say, --

'And what is my native land to me? it is filled with violence andmadness; I fear 'tis accursed of God; I am willing to find my fatherlandwherever you find a home. '

She turned with a defying look towards us; at which Harry began tolaugh, and said, 'How about the rose I had one night from MistressAlthea Dacre? it is a rose yet--dry and faded truly; but it has notturned into a nettle. '

'Be generous, ' she said, blushing; 'do not remind me of that; I spoke ofit in the days of my folly. I have been taught the plague of my ownheart since, by many a sharp lesson. '

'Well, ' said Harry, 'I may truly say the same of myself. It hath pleasedGod, ' he said reverently, 'to bring me to Himself through suffering. Itrusted overmuch to my own heart; and not till I was stript of all, abeggar and a slave, did I learn mine own vileness and weakness, andChrist's all-sufficiency. I thank Him for the teaching. And I think myLucy hath gone through the same school; is it not so, sweetheart?' andI murmured an assent. 

'Not one of you, ' said Andrew, 'has been so poor a pupil at thatlearning as I; but I think my many stripes have surely beaten it into myhard heart at last, and that I have mastered my task once and for ever. '

'Then, ' quoth Harry, 'we are all on one footing so far, and we may thankHeaven for it. But I cannot fall in with you in your condemning of otherChurches, and the Church of England chiefly. She is not disowned of God, not quite gone astray from Him; there is in her, I must think, a seed oflife and holiness. '

'Your father went out from her notwithstanding, ' says Althea; 'and in mymind he did well, though I was fool enough to condemn him at the time. '

'With your leave, ' says Harry, 'I think he was driven out, because ofthose nice and subtle points of doctrine, that our rulers cruellyenforced, and he could not honestly assent to. But I have heard him say, 'tis his firm persuasion that out of this misgoverned English Churchthere shall yet rise great good, and marvellous blessings, to the landand the world. And in that hope I shall cleave to it with all itsfaults; and so I trust will my wife;' to which I had nothing to say butblushing. Andrew, however, was troubled. 

'I fear thou art in perilous error, kind and good Harry, ' said he. 'Butlet every one be fully persuaded in his own mind. '

'That am I, ' said Althea promptly, on which he smiled again; and the twofalling into talk about their own concerns, we charitably left them toit; for now it was well understood among us that they would wed at theearliest opportunity. 

It was a pretty sight to see the new humility they practised towardseach other. Andrew, being now fully acquainted with my sister's effortson his behalf, seemed to look on her as a protecting angel; but she, regarding him as a saint and a martyr, knew not how to show enoughreverence to him. Also her high courage failed her sometimes, and shewould cling to the good Mary Giles like a timid child to its mother;Mary on her part showing the same tenderness for her that her husbanddisplayed to Andrew. These good people, with Will, kept them companywhen they departed for Amsterdam, which thing was a marvellous comfortto Harry and me; and shortly we had news how the lovers were married, after the Quaker fashion, and were in a happy way to be settled in thatcity. They dwell there still. The good honest Standfasts have power fromAndrew to manage his lands for him, which they do faithfully; and themoneys due to him therefrom being privily conveyed to him, maintain himand his wife in comfort, nor them alone, but many poor and pious soulswho are their pensioners. 

And now, our companions being gone, it might have been thought that Ishould feel a great lack of them, especially when the _Diamond_ loosedfrom port and bore us away with her. But I could feel nothing save joyand gratitude, more especially when I thought of the heavy and dreadfulsummer that lay behind me; and I was possessed with a great longing tosee my father Truelocke once more. Harry had got word conveyed to him ofhis safety, and of our approaching journey; and sure I am his thoughtsflew to meet our thoughts on the way, as we drew nearer and nearer. ButI want words to express the tenderness of our meeting together, when atlast my Harry and I beheld that venerable face again. There are somejoys that cannot be told. 

We have made our home with him in Dent-dale; for there Harry hath boughta little farm, with a pretty odd farmhouse belonging thereto; and ourfather lives with us, well content, and in great peace. For nosquabblings about ecclesiastical matters ever trouble the quiet of oursweet mountain solitude. There is a little lonely church in the Dale, where a good simple-hearted pastor ministers; and there can we worshipin a homely and hearty fashion; nor does the pastor take it ill that Mr. Truelocke keeps aloof from the prayers, but respects his scruples, andreveres his character. For proof thereof, I did not cease urging onHarry his careless promise, that our union should have our father'sblessing on it; and the good pastor falling in with my whim, prevailedon Mr. Truelocke to remarry us very privately in the little church Ispoke of, he himself assisting. 'Twas a foolish fancy, I wot, but I wasnot easy till I had it gratified. And it is now my constant hope thatHarry will never put to sea again, but will be content to plough thekindly earth and gather in her fruits, instead of furrowing the barrencruel waves; sure he has had enough of strange adventures. Yet I fearhim sometimes, when little work is stirring; then he is so restless thateven in his dreams he will talk of seafaring; I think, however, he willwander no more, so long as our father lives. 

We get letters from Althea and her husband, at rare intervals indeed;but then they are long and ample. And it is a marvel how stiffly Altheanow stands for all the points of the Quaker doctrine, which formerly sheso abhorred and contemned. 

Not many days since there reached me a long letter from her, in whichshe told me indeed a great deal of news, and also expressed a wonderfulsisterly affection; but the burden of it was her disquietude because ofmy religious errors. She was very earnest with me upon the sin anddanger of conforming to the world, in dress, and speech, and deportment. 

There were things in this letter which really troubled me, so I carriedit to Mr. Truelocke; and when he had read it, I asked his opinion, whether Christian folk were bound to observe such strictness as Altheanow advocates and practises? at which, softly smiling, he said, --

'"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, Tovisit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himselfunspotted from the world. " I think thou art not far from exemplifyingthat pure religion in thine own life, daughter; so I trust does thysister; but I think her not more free from world-spots than thee, because she perchance goes clad in grey, and thou in scarlet;' for I hada new red cloak and hood upon me. 'This, ' he said, touching the cloaklightly, 'is no stain of scarlet sin, 'tis honest dye-stuff, Lucy. '

'It might make me vain and proud to go gaily, might it not?' I said. 

'When it has that effect, child, renounce it as a snare, ' he replied. 'Ithink thou art not over gay as yet, for a young wife, with a true-lovehusband to please. '

'But besides these things, ' I said, 'there are others more serious. Seehow my sister cries out against all set forms of worship, even to thesinging of hymns; and how she accounts even the outward visible forms ofthe two great sacraments as having something of the nature of an idolthat we sinfully adore. All should be spiritual and inward, according toher, and to other Friends; and I do not myself understand how that canbe. '

''Tis a great truth that they uphold, ' said he musingly, 'yet I cannotsee that it includes all truth. For my own share, I still hold fast tomy opinions; they commend themselves to my reason as strongly as ever. Ishould lie, did I deny them. And yet from my very heart I agree withthe Friends in prizing the spirit above the letter. And I hope, mydaughter, ' he went on, while a smile trembled on his lips, 'that a daywill yet dawn when all Christian men shall agree so heartily as touchingthe deep and vital truths of their faith, that they may be content todiffer as to the visible ceremonial garment that their faith may wear. But that will not be in my day, Lucy, nor, I fear much, in thine. Let ushope and pray for its coming; and let us rejoice meanwhile and givethanks for our safety here from the strife of tongues, for the peace andrest we are allowed to share in this corner of the earth; so far are wehappy above many. '

And I am only too glad to obey his word, and to fare like a bird of theair that is fed by God's daily bounty, without care for the morrow. Norwill I trouble myself any more about this nice point of doctrine andthat, laying on myself a burden that God never gave me. Has He not givenme His own peace; and with it more of earthly bliss than ever my heartdared hope for? And were I even less happy in my lot, I ought all mylife to praise Him for His hand over us for good, while we dwelt in thatCity of the Plague. I have heard with infinite satisfaction, how, sincethis cold winter weather came on, the sickness is mightily abated, andmen hope it is passing away. But it hath swept off, say they, not lessthan a hundred thousand souls in one fatal year; and what were we, thatwe should escape? It is all of the Lord's goodness, and His pity to ourrashness.