"While I rot here!" he cried again. "But I will not! I tell you I will not!"
"Yes, sir?" said Marjorie gently, suddenly aware that her heart had begun to beat swiftly.
He glanced at her, and his face changed a little.
"I will not," he murmured. "I must break out of my prison. Only their accursed--"
Again he interrupted himself, biting sharply on his lip.
For an instant the girl had thought that all her old distrust of him was justified, and that he contemplated in some way the making of terms that would be disgraceful to a Catholic. But what terms could these be? He was a FitzHerbert; there was no evading his own blood; and he was the victim chosen by the Council to answer for the rest. Nothing, then, except the denial of his faith--a formal and deliberate apostasy--could serve him; and to think that of the nephew of old Sir Thomas, and the son of John, was inconceivable. There seemed no way out; the torment of this prison must be borne. She only wished he could have borne it more manfully.
It seemed, as she watched him, that some other train of thought had fastened upon him. His wife had begun again her lamentations, bewailing his cell and his clothes, and his loss of liberty, asking him whether he were not ill, whether he had food enough to eat; and he hardly answered her or glanced at her, except once when he remembered to tell her that a good gift to the gaoler would mean a little better food, and perhaps more light for himself. And then he resumed his pacing; and, three or four times as he turned, the girl caught his eyes fixed on hers for one instant. She wondered what was in his mind to say.
Even as she wondered there came a single loud rap upon the door, and then she heard the key turning. He wheeled round, and seemed to come to a determination.
"My dearest," he said to his wife, "here is the gaoler come to turn you out again. I will ask him--" He broke off as the man stepped in.
"Mr. Gaoler," he said, "my wife would speak alone with you a moment."
(He nodded and winked at his wife, as if to tell her that this was the time to give him the money.)
"Will you leave Mistress Manners here for a minute or two while my wife speaks with you in the pa.s.sage?"
Then Marjorie understood that she had been right.
The man who held the keys nodded without speaking.
"Then, my dearest wife," said Thomas, embracing her all of a sudden, and simultaneously drawing her towards the door, "we will leave you to speak with the man. He will come back for Mistress Manners directly."
"Oh! my Thomas!" wailed the girl, clinging to him.
"There, there, my dearest. And you will come and see me again as soon as you can get the order."
The instant the door was closed he came up to Marjorie and his face looked ghastly.
"Mistress Manners," he said, "I dare not speak to my wife. But ... but, for Jesu"s sake, get me out of here. I ... I cannot bear it....
Topcliffe comes to see me every day.... He ... he speaks to me continually of--O Christ! Christ! I cannot bear it!"
He dropped suddenly on to his knees by the table and hid his face.
III
At Babington House Marjorie slept, as was often the custom, in the same room with her maid--a large, low room, hung all round with painted cloths above the low wainscoting.
On the night after the visit to the prison, Janet noticed that her mistress was restless; and that while she would say nothing of what was troubling her, and only bade her go to bed and to sleep, she herself would not go to bed. At last, in sheer weariness, the maid slept.
She awakened later, at what time she did not know, and, in her uneasiness, sat up and looked about her; and there, still before the crucifix, where she had seen her before she slept, kneeled her mistress.
She cried out in a loud whisper:
"Come to bed, mistress; come to bed."
And, at the word, Marjorie started; then she rose, turned, and in the twilight of the summer night began to prepare herself for bed, without speaking. Far away across the roofs of Derby came the crowing of a c.o.c.k to greet the dawn.
CHAPTER X
I
It was a fortnight later that there came suddenly to Babington House old Mr. Biddell himself. Up to the present he had been careful not to do so.
He appeared in the great hall an hour before dinner-time, as the tables were being set, and sent a servant for Mistress Manners.
"Hark you!" he said; "you need not rouse the whole house. It is with Mistress Manners alone that my business lies."
He broke off, as Mrs. FitzHerbert looked over the gallery.
"Mr. Biddell!" she cried.
He shook his head, but he seemed to speak with some difficulty.
"It is just a rumour," he said, "such as there hath been before. I beg you--"
"That ... there will be no trial at all?"
"It is just a rumour," he repeated. "I did not even come to trouble you with it. It is with Mistress Manners that--"
"I am coming down," cried Mrs. Thomas, and vanished from the gallery.
Mr. Biddell acted with decision. He whisked out again into the pa.s.sage from the court, and there ran straight into Marjorie, who was coming in from the little enclosed garden at the back of the house.
"Quick!" he said. "Quick! Mrs. Thomas is coming, and I do not wish--"
She led the way without a word back into the court, along a few steps, and up again to the house into a little back parlour that the steward used when the house was full. It was unoccupied now, and looked out into the garden whence she was just come. She locked the door when he had entered, and came and sat down out of sight of any that might be pa.s.sing.
"Sit here," she said; and then: "Well?" she asked.
He looked at her gravely and sadly, shaking his head once or twice. Then he drew out a paper or two from a little lawyer"s valise that he carried, and, as he did so, heard a hand try the door outside.
"That is Mrs. Thomas," whispered the girl. "She will not find us."
He waited till the steps moved away again. Then he began. He looked anxious and dejected.
"I fear it is precisely as you thought," he said. "I have followed up every rumour in the place. And the first thing that is certain is that Topcliffe leaves Derby in two days from now. I had it as positive information that his men have orders to prepare for it. The second thing is that Topcliffe is greatly elated; and the third is that Mr.