It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he could read cipher, and to shew him my paper--reminded of it, by his talk of disaffection; but my Cousin Tom came back at that moment; and I put it off; and I presently forgot it again.
The memory of the ma.s.s that we heard next morning will never leave me; for it was the first time that I had heard it in the house.
We used the long attic, for fear of disturbance, and had a man posted beneath--for it was still death for a priest to say ma.s.s in England. All the servants that were Catholics were there; and all, I think, went to the sacraments. Mr. Hamerton heard confessions before the ma.s.s began.
The north end of the attic had been prepared by Dolly and her maid; and looked very pretty and fine. A couple of men had carried up a great low press, that had the instruments of the Pa.s.sion painted upon its panels; and this served for an altar. Behind it Dolly had put up a hanging from downstairs, that was of Abraham offering Isaac, and had set upon the altar a pair of silver candlesticks from the parlour, and a little standing crucifix, with jugs of country flowers between the candlesticks and the cross. She had laid too, as a foot-pace, a Turkey rug that came too from the parlour; and had put a little table to serve as a credence.
Mr. Hamerton had with him little altar-vessels made for travelling, with a cup that unscrewed from the stem, and every other necessary except what he asked us to provide.
It is the experience of everyone, I think, that ma.s.s differs from ma.s.s, as a star (in the apostle"s words) differs from another star in glory--I do not mean in its essential effects, for that is the same always, but in the devotion which it arouses in those that hear it. This ma.s.s then seemed to me like scarcely any other that I had ever heard, except perhaps that at which I received my first communion in the country church in France. Mr. Hamerton said it with great deliberation and recollection; and, as my Cousin Tom served him, as a host should, I was not distracted by anything. My Cousin Dolly and I kneeled side by side in front, and again, side by side, to receive Holy Communion.
I was in a kind of ecstasy of delight, and not, I think unworthily; for, though much of my delight came from being there with my cousin, and receiving our Lord"s Body with her, I do not think that is any dishonour to G.o.d whom we must love first of all, to find a great joy in loving Him in the company of those we love purely and uprightly. So at least it seems to me.
Mr. Hamerton told us he must be riding very early; and not much after seven o"clock we stood at the gate to bid him farewell. I made my man James go with him so far as Ware to set him on his road, though the priest begged me not to trouble myself.
When I came back to the house I was in a torment of indecision as to whether this would not be the best occasion I could ever find of telling my Cousin Dorothy all that was in my heart in her regard; and I even went into the Great Chamber after her, still undecided. But her manner prevented me; for I thought I saw in her something of a return of that same shyness which she had shewed to me when I had come last time back to Hare Street; and I went out again without saying one word except of the priest"s visit and of what a good man he seemed.
Even then, I think, if I had spoken, matters might have taken a very different course; but, whether through G.o.d"s appointment or my own diffidence, this was not to be; and again I said nothing to her.
CHAPTER IV
Our next adventure, not unlike the last exteriorly, was very different from it interiorly; and led to very strange results in the event. It came about in this way.
It was in May that Mr. Hamerton had come to us, for Easter that year fell in that month; and the weather after that, which had been very bitter in the winter, with so much snow as I never saw before, but clearer about Eastertime, fell very wet and stormy again in June.
It was on a Thursday evening, in the first week in June, that the bad weather set in with a violent storm of rain and a high wind. We sat in the Great Chamber after supper, and had some music as usual: and between the music we listened to the gusts of wind and the rattle of the rain, which made so great a noise that Dolly said that it was no use for her to go to bed yet, for that she would not sleep if she went. Her maid went to bed; and we three sat talking till nearly half-past ten o"clock, which is very late for the country where men rise at four o"clock.
The wind made such a noise that we heard nothing of the approach to the house; and the first that we knew of anyone"s coming was a hammering at the door.
"Why, who is that;" said I, "that comes so late?"
I could see that my Cousin Tom did not like it, for his face shewed it--(I suppose it was the memory of that other time when the hammering came)--so I said nothing, but went myself to the outer door and unbolted it.
A fellow stood there in a great riding-cloak; but I could see he wore some kind of a livery beneath.
"Well," I said, "what do you want?"
He saw that I was a gentleman by my dress; and he answered me very civilly.
"My master is benighted, sir," said he; "and he bid me come and ask whether he might lie here to-night. There is no inn in the place."
"Why, who is your master?" I asked.
He did not seem to hear my question, for he went on immediately.
"There are only five of the party, sir," he said. "Two gentlemen and three servants."
I saw that my Cousin Tom was behind me now; and that Dolly was looking from the door of the Great Chamber.
"You have not yet told us," I said, "what your master"s name is."
"I think, sir, he had best answer that," said the fellow.
Now this might very well be a Catholic, and perhaps an important person who had heard of Mr. Jermyn, but did not wish to advertise who himself was. I looked at my Cousin Tom; and thought from his look that the same thought had come to him.
"Well, Cousin?" I said.
"They had best come in--" he said shortly. "Dolly, rouse some of the servants. They will want supper, I suppose."
He nodded to the man, who went back immediately; and a minute later two gentlemen came up the flagged path, also in great cloaks that appeared soaked with the rain.
"By G.o.d, sir!" said the first of them, "we are grateful to you. This is a wild night."
My Cousin, Tom said something civil, and when the door was shut, helped this man off with his cloak, while I helped the other. The former was explaining all the while how they were on their way to town from Newmarket; and how they had become bogged a little after Barkway, losing their road in the darkness. They had intended to push on to Waltham Cross, he said, or Ware at the least, and lie there. He spoke with a merry easy air that shewed him for a well-bred and pleasant fellow. My own man said nothing, but left it all to the other.
When I turned to see the one who spoke, I was more surprised than ever in all my life before; for it was no other than the Duke of Monmouth himself. He looked a shade older than when I had last seen him in the park above a year ago; but he was the very same and I could not mistake him. As for me, he would not know me from Adam, for he had never spoken with me in all his life. I did not know what to do, as to whether I should make to recognize him or not; but he saved me the trouble; for as I followed the others into the Great Chamber, he was already speaking.
"It is very good of you, Mr. Jermyn," he said, "to receive us like this.
My name is Morton, and my friend"s here Mr. Atkins. You can put us where you will--on the floor if you have no other place."
"We can do better than that, sir," said Tom. "There is only my daughter here and Mr. Mallock my cousin. My daughter is gone to call the servants."
The Duke looked very handsome and princely as he stood on the hearth, although there was no fire, and surveyed the room. He was in a dark blue riding-suit, darker than it should be upon the shoulders with the rain that had soaked through his cloak; but it was of the colour of his eyes that were very fine and attractive; and he wore his own hair. The other man looked pretty mean beside him; and yet he was not ill-looking. He was a fair man, too, with a rosy face; in a buff suit.
"We can manage two changes of clothes, Mr. Morton," went on my Cousin Tom, "if you fear to take a cold; or you can sup immediately; as you will."
"Why, Mr. Jermyn; I think we will sup first and go to bed afterwards.
The clothes can be dried, no doubt, before morning."
In spite of all his efforts, he spoke as one born to command and with a kind of easy condescension too; and certainly this had its effect upon poor Tom; for he was all eagerness and welcome, who just now had been a shade surly. He was beginning to say that it was for his guests to choose, when my Cousin Dolly came in suddenly through the open door.
"Why here is my little maid, gentlemen--" he said; and Dolly did her reverence.
Now I had in my mind no thought of jealousy at all; and yet when I saw how the Duke bowed to my cousin, I am bound to say that a touch of it pierced me like a dart--there and gone again, I thought. But it had been there. I thought how few gentlemen poor Dolly saw down here in Hare Street: beyond the parson--and he was a man who would go out before the pudding in a great house, and marry the lady"s maid--there was scarce one who might write Esquire after his name; and the breeding of most of the squires was mostly rustical. As for her, she did her reverence very prettily, without a trace of the country in it; and, strange to say, her manner seemed to change. I mean by that, that she seemed wholly at her ease in this new kind of company, fully as much as with her maids.
"You have had a very wet ride, sir," she said, without any sign of confusion or shyness; "the maids are kindling a fire in the kitchen, to dry your clothes before morning: and your men shall have beds in the attic."
The Duke made a pretty answer, which she took as prettily.
"And a cold supper shall be in immediately," she said.