Part 7 (1/2)

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

'Look to your sister, take her in instantly,' he turned and fled as a man might flee for his life, while Althea threw herself on the cold ground, moaning and sobbing like a creature mortally hurt. I took her in my arms and raised her up, asking her, all amazed, was that indeed Andrew? but she did nothing but wring her hands and implore me to follow him and fetch him back; and I had much trouble to persuade her that was useless and hopeless for us at that hour of the night. At last she was won to rise and return to the house; and we both found it a difficult matter to get in where we had got out easily enough; which Mr.

Truelocke, I doubt not, would have moralized in his pleasant way into a sort of holy parable. But I have not that gift, and I suppose 'twas the hope in Althea's breast and the fear in mine which had raised our powers for a moment and made a hard thing easy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'Look to your sister, take her in instantly.']

When we had recovered a little, and had got safely to my room, Althea recollected herself and told me every word that had pa.s.sed; and we both agreed that Andrew was running himself into new and strange dangers in pursuance of what he held as a Divine call. I noted it as a new thing in Althea, that she could no longer scoff at this belief of his in the inward heavenly voice that must be obeyed; but this matter was very terrible to us; and we talked of it till daylight, without coming to any conclusion 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 abroad that the heir to the Grange was missing, and his house and lands left masterless; and there presently appeared first one and then another of the Goldings, far-off kinsmen of Andrew; these persons came to the house to examine it, and talked much with the Standfasts; also they tried to find out what my sister and I knew of Andrew's doings; some of them went to York to talk with Aunt Golding's lawyer; and it was not hard to see that 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 having preached 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, I had now been unhappy enough; for we were ever hearing tales of the evil handling of all kinds of Dissenters; even young maidens and little children being pelted, whipped, and chained for the crime of being of Quaker parentage and belief, while hundreds of Nonconformists of that sort and other sorts were thrown into prison and left there. I suppose it 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 people of our village, who now began to come about us again, with some show of former kindness; but they proved very Job's comforters to us, by reason of the frightful stories they loved to retail.

There was one good soul whom I loved well to see, who yet gave me many a heart-quake; it was a Mrs. Ashford, wife to a small farmer near us; a lad of hers had sailed with my Harry, and thus she would often come to talk over the hopes and fears we had in common, and to exchange with me whatever sc.r.a.ps of sea-news we could pick up. So one day, as we sat talking,--

'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 she meant, she told me she had learnt from certain poor seamen that the Plague was a.s.suredly on its way to us, having been creeping nearer and nearer for a year and a half.

'A Dutch s.h.i.+p from Argier in Africa,' says she, 'brought it first to Amsterdam, where it grows more and more; and 'tis certain, in another Dutch s.h.i.+p, a great one, all hands died of the Plague, the s.h.i.+p driving ash.o.r.e and being found full of dead corpses, to the great horror and destruction of the people there; which makes our people tremble, because of our nearness to Holland and our traffic with it.'

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

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

Well, this news was frightful to me for Harry's sake. I began to tremble lest perchance the _Good Hope_ should be visited like that Dutch s.h.i.+p; but I did not breathe such a fear to Mrs. Ashford. And as the spring drew 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 being impressed for the king's service; so we knew not what to wish for.

The spring being more than ordinarily hot, doubled the apprehensions of the Plague; and some time in April, as I think, news came down that it had 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 terror than our neighbours.

About that time I was busy one morning in the front garden, when a gentleman in black came in at the gate, and was making up to the hall door, when, espying me, he stopped, beckoning with his hand, and seeming to want speech with me. He was m.u.f.fled in a cloak, and his hat pulled over 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 kinsman who took his way up to town some weeks ago? I bring news of him;' on which I begged he would come in and tell it to my sister also; but he said,--

'There is much sickness in town; I am newly come from it; it were more prudent for me to speak with you here;' on which I ran and fetched Althea out; and the man said, 'I do not pretend, madam, that my news is good news. Your kinsman demeaned himself strangely on his coming up, denouncing wrath and woe against the poor citizens, speaking much evil of 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 were fit enough; and the stranger replied, that might be, but civil speech was best.

'People took your kinsman's preachings very unkindly,' he continued; 'the more so when the Plague he prophesied of began to show itself; then he was called a sorcerer; and to make a long story short, he was taken up for a pestilent mad Quaker, and clapt into gaol. I looked on him there; 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 a ghastly 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 to laugh, his look was altogether devilish.

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

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