"I trow I am much happier here than I should be on King Henry's throne!"

answered Margery, with a smile. "Christ is with me, good husband, and where Christ is, is peace. '_Pees I leeue to ghou, my pees I ghyue to ghou; not as the world ghyueth I ghyue to ghou_' [John xiv. 27].

'_These thingis I haue spoken to ghou, that ghe haue pees in me. In the world ghe schulen haue disese; but triste ghe, I haue ouercome the world_?'" [John xvi. 33.]

When Lord Marnell quitted Margery that evening, he hastened to Court, and attempted to gain the ear of the King. Since the deposition of his friend and master, King Richard, he had never appeared there. He was consequently a stranger to the pages and porters, who tried to get rid of him as politely as they could. At length Lord Marnell caught sight of the Earl of Surrey, who with some hesitation consented to introduce him into the privy chamber. Henry listened to Lord Marnell only until he comprehended the nature of his plea; then met him with a frown and an angry--

"Pardon a Lollard? Never!"

"Please it, your Grace, your n.o.ble predecessor, King Richard, though no Lollard, would have granted me at once, in consideration of my long and faithful service unto him."

"I am not Richard of Bordeaux, but Henry of Bolingbroke!" was the haughty answer, as the King turned round abruptly, and quitted Lord Marnell.

"By our Lady of Walsingham, I wis full well _that_" replied the latter, _sotto voce_.

As Lord Marnell quitted the palace, he met in the corridor with the Prince of Wales, [Afterwards Henry V] who stopped and saluted him, and Lord Marnell at once begged for his intercession with his father. The Prince readily promised it, but on learning particulars, the son's brow darkened as the father's had done. He was very sorry, but he really could not ask the King's pardon for a Lollard. Lord Marnell would have given his whole fortune to undo his own work of the last eighteen months. He had never dreamed that Abbot Bilson would have summoned the archbishop to his aid, nor that Margery would have stood half as firmly as she had done. He only knew her as a fragile, gentle, submissive girl, and never expected to find in her material for the heroine or the martyr. Lord Marnell tried to procure the mediation of everybody about the Court; but all, while expressing great sympathy with him, declined to risk their own necks. Even the King's sons said they dared not comply with his request. Prince Thomas [afterwards Henry V] was extremely kind--very much grieved that he could not help him; but Prince Humphrey [Duke of Gloucester] turned scornfully from him, and Prince John [the great Duke of Bedford] coldly bade him take heed to his own safety. The Earl of Somerset, the King's half-brother, shook his head, and said he was already suspected by the King to be a Lollard himself, and such an application from him would probably seal his own doom. Lord Marnell applied to the Queen [Jeanne of Navarre, the second wife of Henry IV]; but she seemed most afraid of all to whom he had spoken, lest she should incur the King's anger, and possibly endanger herself.

The interval between the day of the examination and that appointed for the execution pa.s.sed drearily to all parties. Lord Marnell, notwithstanding all these repulses, exerted himself unremittingly to procure a commutation of the sentence, at least to beheading; but in vain. The King was inexorable. If the Lady Marnell had chosen to ally herself with Lollards, she well knew what she was doing, and must abide the consequences. Vainly did Lord Marnell represent how young and inexperienced she was; in vain did he urge that the Act which made the Lollards amenable to capital punishment had been pa.s.sed since her indictment, and only a few weeks before. Henry was not naturally disposed to hear his pleasure called in question; and Abbot Bilson had had possession of the royal ear already.

When Alice returned from Marnell Place on the evening of the 26th of February, Margery saw, by the expression of her face, that she had heard something which shocked her. She asked what it was.

"You mind, good my Lady, the day that you went with Master Pynson to hear a sermon in Bostock Church?"

"I trow I shall not lightly forget it," was Margery's answer.

"Master Sastre was a-preaching, was he not?"

"Ay. Wherefore?"

"My Lady, he suffered death this forenoon by burning."

"Master Sastre! Who told thee?"

"Christopher it was that told me,--and yon evil man--for sure, though he be a holy priest, yet is he an evil man, or would he never else have so dealt with your Ladyship--yon evil man, Abbot Bilson was there, and did sore press Master Sastre for to have confessed his error; but Master Sastre did maintain the same to the end."

Margery turned away her head. The venerable image of Sastre rose up before her, as he learned forward over the pulpit to say those last earnest words.

"Ah, dear old teacher!" she whispered to herself. "Thou wilt not have long to look among the mult.i.tude in the white apparel, for _one_ face which was upturned to thee that day!"

CHAPTER TEN.

GLORIFYING THE LORD IN THE FIRES.

"Ah, little is all loss, And brief the s.p.a.ce 'twixt sh.o.r.e and sh.o.r.e, If Thou, Lord Jesus, on us lay, Through the dark waters of our way, The burden which Christopheros bore-- To carry Thee across."

Miss Muloch.

As Lord Marnell sat with Margery in her cell in the evening of the 1st of March, she begged him to grant her a favour. Her contrite husband bade her ask what she would. Margery replied that she greatly wished to write a last letter to her mother. Writing-materials were carefully kept from her. Could Lord Marnell supply her with the means of doing so? He said he would attempt it.

When Alice returned on the following day from Marnell Place, whither she had been to procure a change of linen for her mistress, she brought with her also a loaf of bread. The jailer demurred at this, but Alice urged that Lady Marnell did not like the bread made by the prison baker, and surely the jailer would not grudge her a loaf from home, for the few days she had to live. The jailer shook his head, but let it pa.s.s. When Alice was safe in the cell, she broke the loaf, and produced from it, cunningly imbedded in the soft crumb, several sheets of paper folded surprisingly small, a pen, and a little inkhorn. Margery's eyes glistened when she saw these, and she wrote her letter secretly during the night. But how to get it out of the prison with safety? Alice was able to provide for this also. The letter was sewn in one of the pillows, which would be carried back to Marnell Place after the execution.

The last day of Lady Marnell's life sped away as other less eventful days do, and the evening of the 5th of March arrived. Alice, having just returned from her usual journey to the house, was disposing of the articles which she had brought with her, when the jailer's key grated in the lock, and the door was opened. Lady Marnell looked up, expecting to see her husband, though it was rather before his usual time for visiting her; but on looking up, she saw Abbot Bilson.

This feline ecclesiastic came forward with bent head and joined hands, vouchsafing no reply to Margery's salutation of "Good even, father," nor to Alice's humble request for his blessing. He sat down on a chair, and for some minutes stared at Margery in silence--conduct so strange that at length she said, "Wherefore come you, father?"

"To look at thee, child of the devil!" was the civil answer.

Alice, who had just requested the blessing of the _priest_, was more angry than she could bear with the _man_. She was just on the point of saying something sharp, when Lord Marnell's voice behind the Abbot interposed with--

"If thou wouldst see a child of the devil, I trow thou hast little need to look further than thy mirror!"

The Abbot rose calmly, and let Lord Marnell enter.

"It becometh not poor and humble monks, servitors of G.o.d, to lend themselves unto the vanity of mirrors," said he, pulling out a large rosary, and beginning to tell his beads devoutly.

"'Servitors of G.o.d!'" cried Lord Marnell, too angry to be prudent.

"Dost call thyself a servitor of G.o.d? If G.o.d hath no better servitors than thou, I ween He is evil served!"

The Abbot cast a glance from the corner of his eye at Lord Marnell, but made no answer, save to tell his beads more devoutly than ever.

"Hast no other place to tell thy beads in?" asked that n.o.bleman.

The Abbot rose without a word, and, pausing at the door, stretched his hand over the a.s.sembled trio, and muttered some words to himself.

"Away with thee, Lucifer, and thy maledictions!" exclaimed Lord Marnell.

"There be here who are nearer to the angels than ever thou shalt be!"

Suddenly the Abbot was gone. n.o.body had seen or heard him depart--he seemed to melt into the night, in some strange, mysterious way.

"He is gone, and Satan his master go with him!" said Lord Marnell. "Ho, jailer! lock the door, I pray, and leave us three alone together."

The jailer obeyed; and Lord Marnell sat down by the side of Margery's bed, and bade Alice lie down on her own pallet, and sleep if she could.

He gave the same counsel to Margery; but the latter smiled, and said she would never sleep again in this world.

"Now, Madge!" said her husband, "hast aught on thy mind, good wife, that thou wouldst say ere morn? Aught that I can do for thee? Trust me, I will do the same right gladly."

Margery thanked him fervently; there was a heartiness in his tone which was not often audible.

"There be a few matters, mine own good Lord, which under thy good pleasure I would willingly have done. I would that all my servants might have a year's pay; and for Alice, poor la.s.s! who hath tended me so well and truly, I pray that a small matter of money may be given her by the year: moreover, I would like, if she will--for I would not lay her under bond--that she should keep with Geoffrey while she liveth, or at least until he be a man. And, good husband, I would that thou wouldst teach my poor child to remember me, his mother, but above all, to remember the Lord for whom I die, and who, having loved me in the world, loveth me unto the end. [John xiii. 1] Tell him to count nought too good for Christ. I trust Christ hath set His heart upon him--I have prayed for him too much else--and He promised me that whatever thing I should ask the Father in His name He would do that thing." [John xvi.

16].

"Hast thou prayed ever for me, good wife?" asked Lord Marnell.

"Many times, my good Lord, and I will do so till I die."

"The Church teacheth that dying stoppeth not praying," said he.

"I wis well that the Church so teacheth; but I saw it not in the book; however, if I find it to be so, I will pray G.o.d for thee there also."