Part 28 (1/2)
”Verily, no, Lady; and my Lord Archbishop's Grace doth most earnestly desire your Ladys.h.i.+p to pay her visit, she being now near death, and your Lord and brother the Duke denying to come unto her.”
The glow deepened in the dark eyes.
”My Lord my brother refused to go to my mother?”
”He did so, Dame.”
”And she is near death?”
”Very near, I am told, Lady.”
”And he wist it?”
”He wist it.”
Lady Ba.s.set seemed for a moment to have forgotten everything but the one.
”Lead on,” she said. ”I will go to her--poor Mother! I can scarce remember her; I was so young when taken from her. But I think she loved me once. I will go, though no other soul on earth keep me company.”
”Lady,” said G.o.dfrey, saying the exact reverse of truth, ”I do right heartily trust your Lord shall not let you therein.”
”What matter?” she said. ”If the Devil and all his angels stood in the way, I would go to my dying mother.”
She left the room for a minute, and to G.o.dfrey's dismay came back attired for her journey, as if she meant to set out there and then.
”But, Lady!” he expostulated.
”You need not tarry for me,” she said, calmly. ”I can find the way, and I have sent word to bid mine horses.”
This was unendurable. G.o.dfrey, in his dismay, left the room with only a courtesy, and sought Lord Ba.s.set in the hall.
”Ah! she's taken the bit betwixt her teeth,” said he. ”I warrant you'd best leave her be; she'll go now, if it be on a witch's broom. I'll forbid it, an' you will, but I do you to wit I might as well entreat yon tree not to wave in the wind. When she doth take the bit thus, she's--”
An emphatic shake of Lord Ba.s.set's head finished the sentence. He rose as if it were more trouble than it was reasonable to impose, walked into his wife's room, and asked her where she was going that winter day.
”You are scarce wont to inquire into my comings and goings,” she said, coldly. ”But if it do your Lords.h.i.+p ease to wit the same, I am going to Hazelwood Manor, whence yonder young gentleman is now come.”
”How if I forbid it?”
”My Lord, I am sent for to my dying mother. Your Lords.h.i.+p is a gentleman, I believe, and therefore not like to forbid me. But if you so did, yea, twenty times twice told, I should answer you as now I do.
Seven years have I done your bidding, and when I return I will do it yet again. But not now. Neither you, nor Satan himself, should stay me this one time.”
”Your Ladys.h.i.+p losengeth,” [flatters] was the careless answer. ”Fare you well. I'll not hinder you. As for Satan, though it pleaseth you to count me in with him, I'll be no surety for his doings. Master Foljambe, go you after this crack-brained dame of mine, or tarry you here with me and drink a cup of Malvoisie wine?”
G.o.dfrey would very much have preferred to remain with Lord Ba.s.set; but a wholesome fear of his father and the Archbishop together restrained him from doing so. He was exceedingly vexed to be made to continue his journey thus without intermission; but Lady Ba.s.set was already on a pillion behind her squire, and Emeriarde on another behind the groom, a few garments having been hastily squeezed into a saddle-bag carried by the latter. This summary way of doing things was almost unheard of in the fourteenth century; and G.o.dfrey entertained a private opinion that ”crack-brained” was a truthful epithet.
”Needs must,” said he; ”wherefore I pray your Lords.h.i.+p mercy. Her Ladys.h.i.+p shall scantly make good road to Hazelwood without I go withal.
But--_ha, chetife_!”
Lord Ba.s.set slightly laughed, kissed his hand to his wife, lifted his hat to G.o.dfrey with a shrug of his shoulders, and walked back into Drayton Manor House.