Part 8 (2/2)
So Mary's marriage, which was to have taken place in a few weeks, had to be postponed until the autumn, or rather winter, for there could be no certainty of his returning to Hayslope until then. There was always a truce of a few months during winter. Wars could not be carried on regardless of weather, as they are now, and thus it was that they often lasted years.
After the departure of the Captain, life seemed to pa.s.s more slowly and monotonously than ever at Hayslope Grange. Out of the direct main road, strangers rarely came that way, and so little was known of how events were tending in the mortal strife going on so near them.
The trial of Archbishop Laud was still being carried on by the London Parliament; Oxford was supporting the King in the combat with his subjects, the north having yielded to Fairfax, the Parliamentary general. This was all the news that came to Hayslope through all the remaining days of July and the sultry weeks of August. No word came from Harry Drury, not a syllable that Maud was hungering to hear with a hunger that paled her cheek and was wasting her strength.
The harvest--what there was--had to be gathered in by women for the most part; and when Maud looked at these going out to their unwonted toil, a baby in one hand and a reaping-hook in the other, and thought of the burden of sorrow they had to carry as well, she reproached herself for weakly yielding to her grief; and yet it was hard to combat sometimes.
She had been compelled to rebel against Mistress Mabel's command to sit more closely to her spinning and sewing. Not that she disliked preparing Mary's house linen, but because she could not endure the scrutiny of those hard cold eyes, and to get away from them she did as Harry had done many a time before--mounted Cavalier, and cantered away miles over the fields, and then back to the village, to visit her friends there.
The months of September and October pa.s.sed slowly enough, but about the middle of November Roger and a few of the other men came back to the village for the winter. It could not be said that they were not welcome, and yet provisions were now so dear, owing to the scanty harvest and heavy taxes, that every extra mouth to fill was felt as a heavy burden by their distressed families; and then, being winter time, there was scarcely any work they could do in the fields and gardens.
Maud had hoped that she should hear something of Harry when the men came back, and how much her returning health and strength had depended upon this she did not know until the hope was taken away and the faint sickening languor again stole over her frame. It might have grown upon her more than it did, but the wants of the poor people in the village, and the demands of Mistress Mabel, that she should a.s.sist in the preparations for Mary's wedding, left her very little time to spend in sitting alone and thinking of Harry.
Mary was to be married at Christmas, and go with Captain Stanhope to Oxford. The two seemed mutually pleased with each other, and quite satisfied with their bargain, but Maud could not tell whether they loved each other. She hoped they did, but Mary never gave her an opportunity of speaking upon this subject, and indeed the preparations for the coming event seemed to occupy her mind so fully that she had no thought for anything else.
This wedding afforded the villagers the most satisfaction, perhaps, for Master Drury was to give them an ox to be roasted on the green, and the prospect of a good dinner was very pleasant to them under the present circ.u.mstances. Captain Stanhope gave them a barrel of ale in which to drink his bride's health, but Mary seemed to think no one wanted anything but herself.
She packed up all the books and little trifles lying about that had belonged to Harry, and when Maud ventured to remonstrate with her about this, saying that Bertram would want them by-and-by if Harry did not return, she retorted, ”Harry Drury never will return to this house, Maud, and Bertram will be expelled too if you continue to encourage him in thinking Harry right in what he has done.”
Maud looked surprised. ”What can you mean?” she exclaimed.
”Marry, nothing but what is true. You are teaching Bertram to think Harry right in rebelling against the King, and his father, too,”
retorted Mary.
”I do not think Harry is wrong in following the guidance of his conscience,” said Maud, slowly; ”but I have not sought to teach Bertram that Harry's way is right for him. I have only told him to keep the fear of G.o.d before his eyes, and follow the teaching of His Holy Spirit, as I believe Harry has done.”
”And so you think it is this that has made Harry a traitor,” said Mary, with rising anger.
”I don't think Harry is a traitor,” said Maud, calmly. ”It is the King who has----”
”By my troth I will not listen to such dreadful words,” interrupted Mary, and she went out of the room; but she evidently did not alter her opinion, for she confiscated to her own use every article that had formerly belonged to her brother.
After the wedding festivities were over, and Mistress Mary Stanhope had departed with her husband to Oxford, the house seemed more dull than ever, and Mistress Mabel more severe and exacting.
About the middle of January came news that thrilled every one with horror, and put Master Drury into a fever of mingled anger and sorrow. A man had stopped at the blacksmith's shed on his way from London, and brought the news that Archbishop Laud had been beheaded on Tower Hill the day before he left.
Mistress Mabel was speechless with indignation for a few minutes, and her first act was to take the bright cherry-coloured bow off Bessie's hair.
The little girl looked up in surprise, and saw her aunt taking the ruffles from her own neck and wrists. ”This is not the time for such bravery as this,” said the lady, looking angrily at the ribbons and ruffles. Bessie wondered what they had to do with it, while Mistress Mabel stood upright, watching her brother as he walked up and down the room, murmuring, ”They have slain the Archbishop--murdered the Lord's anointed.”
”For which all good Christians ought to fast and mourn,” put in Mistress Mabel; ”and I hope, brother, that you will see to it that your household is not lacking in this matter,” she added.
”Nay, nay, I leave all such to you,” said Master Drury; ”order whatever is seemly at this time. I know not what has come to this evil-minded generation,” he added.
”An evil generation they are, as you say,” quoth Mistress Mabel. ”Where will their iniquity end? They will put forth their hand against the King next, I trow.”
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