"Alas for my _Te Deum_, then!" sighed Mr Underhill, shrugging his shoulders. "But I hope you may yet find you mistaken, Jack Avery."

"Not more than I, Ned," said John, sadly.

John Avery did not find himself mistaken; but it was not long ere Mr Underhill did so. He allowed that his _Te Deum_ had been too soon, when on the 18th of December Archdeacon Philpot was burned. And the burnings in Smithfield were then not half over.

On the 12th of January, at Mr Underhill's house in Wood Street, by Mr Carter, was christened little Anne Underhill, born on Epiphany Eve [see Note in Appendix]. Her sponsors were Mr Ferris, Helen Ive, and Isoult Avery.

Ere this, a few days before Christmas, Mr Rose's first letter had reached his wife's hands. It brought the welcome tidings that he had arrived safely at Geneva, yet through such perils that he would not advise her to follow. When Isoult had read the letter, she remarked--

"I do see Mr Rose accounteth not himself to be lawfully divorced, for he maketh account of her as his wife all through the letter, and signeth himself at the end thereof, her loving and faithful husband."

"Doth that astonish thee?" said John, laughing.

"Well, of a truth," she answered, "I had thought the worse of him for any other dealing."

Annis Holland came again in March to spend a day at the Lamb. On this occasion she told the rest of her story, or, it may rather be called, the story of Queen Juana. For many months after that first accidental meeting, she told them, she never again saw her royal mistress. But Dona Leonor Gomez, who was exceedingly loquacious when she had no fear of consequences, and sometimes when she had, told her that so long as she was in her right senses, nothing would ever induce the Queen to attend ma.s.s. To persuade her to do any thing else, they would tell her they acted under command of the King her father (who had in reality been dead many years); and she, loving him dearly, and not having sufficient acuteness left to guess the deceit practised upon her, would a.s.sent readily to all they wished, except that one thing. Even that influence failed to induce her to be present at ma.s.s.

"And one day," said Annis, "about the Christmastide, two years gone, I was sitting and sewing in my chamber, Maria being forth, and I had been chanting to myself the hymn, '_Christe Redemptor Omnium_.' When I had ended and was silent, thinking me alone, a voice from the further end of the chamber saith, 'Sing again, Dona Ines.' I looked up in very terror, for here was the Queen's Highness herself. I marvelled how she should have come forth of her chamber, and what my Lord of Denia should say.

'Senora,' said I, 'I kiss the soles of your feet. But allow me to entreat your Highness to return to your chamber.'--'I will not return till you have sung to me,' saith she. And she sat right down on the floor, and clasped her hands around her knees. So I had no choice but to sing my hymn over again. When I ended, she saith, 'What means it, Dona Ines? Is it somewhat of our Lord?'--'Ay, Senora,' I made answer, 'it is all touching Him,'--'I understood the Church hymns once,' she said; 'but that was before the _cuerda_. Sing some more.' Then I sang '_Victimae Paschali_!' '_Miserere_!' she repeated, dreamily, as if that word had woke some old echoes in her memory. 'Ay de mi! child, I lack the mercy very sorely.'--'He knoweth that, Senora,' said I gently. 'And His time is the best time.' And she answered, as she had aforetime,--'I would He would come!' I knew scarce what to answer; but I had no time to answer at all, ere the door opened, which the Queen had closed behind her, and my dread Lord of Denia stood before me. 'What is this, Senora?' he said to her Highness. 'Your Highness here!' And turning to me, 'Dona Ines,' quoth he, 'explain it if you can.' I thought the wisest thing should be to speak very truth, as well as the right, and I told him even how matters stood with me. 'I see,' he answered. 'You have not been to blame, except that you should have called immediately for help, and have put her back into her chamber. Rise, Senora!' The Queen clasped her hands closer around her knees. 'I am at ease here,'

she said. 'And I want Dona Ines to sing.' The Marquis took a step nearer her. '_Alteza_,' he said, 'I desire your Highness to rise. You should be ashamed--you, a Queen!' She looked up on him with a look I had not seen in her _eyes_ aforetime. 'Am I a Queen?' she said. 'If so, a Queen captive in the enemy's hands! If I be your Queen, obey me-- depart from this chamber when you hear my "_Yo la Reyna_." [Note 2.]

Begone, senor Marques! Leave me in peace.' 'Senora!' he answered, unmoving, 'I am surprised. You are in your own Palace, where your father detains you; and you call it captivity! Rise at once, Senora, and return to your chamber.' He spoke sternly and determinedly. The captive lioness heard the keeper's voice, and obeyed. 'My father--ay Don Fernando!' she said only. And holding out both her hands to him, as a child should do, he led her away. After that, I saw her no more for many weary months. At times the terrible screams would arouse me from sleep, and then I prayed for her, that G.o.d would strengthen her, and ease the torment to her; but, above all, that G.o.d would take her. I trust it were not sin in me, Isoult. But if thou hadst seen her as I saw her!

"Well, I saw her no more until this last April. Then there came a night when the shrieks awoke me, more terrible than I had ever heard them yet.

When Dona Leonor came into my chamber on the morrow, which was Good Friday, I asked if she knew the cause. She told me ay. Her Highness lay dying, and had refused to receive [that is, to receive the sacrament]. Fray Domingo de Soto would not suffer her to depart without the host. While she yet talked with me, entered Dona Ximena de Lara, that had never been in my chamber afore, and alway seemed to hold her much above me. 'Dona Ines,' quoth she, 'my Lord of Denia commands you to follow me quickly. The Queen is in a fearful frenzy, and sith she hath alway much loved music, and divers times hath desired you should be fetched to sing to her, my Lord Marquis would have you try whether that will serve to abate her rage.'

"'And they gave her the _cuerda_?' said I, as I followed Dona Ximena.

'Ay, for two hours and more,' saith she, 'but alas! to no end. She refuseth yet to receive His Majesty.' Know thou, Isoult, that these strange folk call the wafer 'His Majesty'--a t.i.tle that they give at once to G.o.d and the King. 'They gave her the _premia_ early last night,' saith she, 'but it was to no good; wherefore it was found needful to repeat the same, more severely, near dawn. Her screams must have been heard all over the town. A right woeful frenzy followed, wherein (she being ignorant of what she did) they caused her to swallow His Majesty. Whereupon, in the s.p.a.ce of some few minutes, by the power of our Lord, she calmed; but the frenzy is now returned, and they think her very near her departing.' In her Highness' chamber a screen was drawn afore the bed, that I could not see her; but her struggles and her cries could too well be heard. My Lord of Denia stood without the screen, and I asked what it was his pleasure I should sing. He answered, what I would, but that it should be soft and soothing. And methought the Hymn for the Dead should be the best thing to sing for the dying.

"'Rex tremendae majestatis, Qui salvandos salvas gratis, Salve me, Fons Pietatis!'

"I had sung but one verse when her crying ceased; and ere I had sung two, she saith with a deep sigh, 'Ay Jesus!' and lay quiet. Then, when I paused, she said, 'Is it Dona Ines?'--'Speak to her,' quoth my Lord Marquis. 'Senora,' I answered, 'I am your Highness' servant Ines, that kisseth your feet.'--'Come hither to me,' the Queen said. 'Child, G.o.d hath looked on long in silence, but He is come at last.' My Lord of Denia made me a sign to pa.s.s within the screen. There lay she, her snow-white hair scattered over the pillow; her ladies standing or kneeling around the bed. 'It is over!' she said, speaking slowly, and with pauses. 'I shall suffer no longer. I shall go to G.o.d.'--'Senora,'

quoth my Lord Marquis, 'I entreat your Highness to be silent. You have received His Majesty, and cannot be allowed to soil your soul by evil words, when Christ is within you.'--'Ye forced me, did ye?' she answered, a quick flash of anger breaking the calm of her face. 'Ah!

well, G.o.d knoweth. _I_ did it not. G.o.d knoweth. And G.o.d will receive me. He witteth what I have been, and what ye.' She lay silent a season; and then, slowly, as if it pained her, she drew her hands together, and folded them as if she prayed, Fray Domingo began a Latin prayer. 'Silence!' saith the Queen, royally. And for this once--the last time--her gaolers obeyed her. She fetched a long weary sigh, and laid her hands one over the other on her breast. Then, in low, calm, quiet tones, her last words were spoken. 'Father, into Thine hands I commit my spirit. Jesus Christ, the Crucified, be with me! I thank G.o.d that my life is over.' It was over, only a few minutes later. And I think He was with her through the valley of the shadow of death." [Note 2.]

"Isoult," said Annis, as she ended her woeful story, "thinkest thou this were martyrdom--this daily dying for six and twenty years? Was it any less, borne for our Lord's love, than any of His martyrs? They that are burned or beheaded, they do but suffer once, and then no more. It must be easier, methinks, than to die piecemeal, as she did. And she knew so little! Isoult, dost thou think Christ will count her in the number of His martyrs?"

"It soundeth very like, Annis," she answered.

"I do not fancy," said John, "that the Lord is so ill off for martyrs'

crowns that He will have none to spare for her."

"Well!" responded Dr Thorpe. "It should be no great wonder if they were used up, seeing how many must have been fetched within the last two years."

"I could believe any thing of Don Carlos," answered Marguerite Rose.

"He that so ill used his aunt, that had been a mother unto him, the Lady Marguerite of Savoy, that was Governess of Flanders,--he should not have much love for his own mother."

And Thekla said,--"I think the crown of the Queen Dona Juana must have been a very bright one. It is so hard to watch and wait."

"My poor Thekla!" murmured Isoult, "thou hast had much thereof."

"I!" she answered, with a smile. "I have done nothing. I have not been forsaken and ill dealt withal, as she was, of my best beloved, throughout many years. Compare me not with her! If I may sit down some whither in Heaven where I can but see her on the heights, that would be too good for me."

"But art thou willing to see Christ only on the heights, Thekla?" said John.

"No," she said, again with her sweet smile. "I should want to be close to Him. No, I could not be content to look on Him afar off."

"In that case," said John, "there is no fear that He shall ask it of thee."

No, there is no fear of His keeping us afar off. It is we who follow afar off. "Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I am; that they may behold My glory, which Thou hast given Me." With our dear Master, it is never "_Go_, and do this hard thing, go and suffer this heavy sorrow, go and bear this weary waiting." It is always "_Come_ and do it;" or at least, "Let _us_ go."

And now there came another martyrdom: the highest, and in some sense, the sorest of them all; yet, by many, not the last. There was room for many souls under the Altar: ay, and on the Throne.

On the 22nd of March, with great pomp and splendour, "The Lord Raynald Pole, Cardinal Legate," was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. It was therefore apparent that Dr Cranmer had been degraded. Isoult said so to Mr Underhill, whom she met at the service at Mr Ferris' lodging, and his answer troubled her no little.

"Nay, Mrs Avery," he replied; "'tis a sign that my Lord Archbishop is dead, for I do know by letter from Bernher, which is now at Oxford, that yesterday was appointed for his burning."

And they had never heard one word after his recantation. Dead, without recanting it! Dead, denying Christ at his end, after confessing Him in his life! This was worse than many martyrdoms, for it was martyrdom of the soul. Was there no hope? Must this death be the second death?

They knew that in the last hour, ay, even in the last minute, he might have repented unto life, and have again caught hold of Christ: but should they who had prayed so fervently for the lost brother, have no word to say so--no "this thy brother is alive again?" Must they never know whether to look for him on the right or the left hand of the King, till they should see him there in the last day?

"I told you too true, Mrs Avery; my Lord Archbishop is dead."

These were the first words which Isoult heard, when she came down the stairs on the following morning.

"But how died he, Mr Underhill?" she cried anxiously.

"Gloriously! Like a martyr and a Prince of G.o.d's Church, as he was, publicly repenting the recantation whereto he had set his hand from fear, and confessing Christ n.o.bly before men, till at last they would not hear a word further--they haled and hurried him to the stake."

"Thank G.o.d!" Her voice failed her; she could say no more.

"It was a foul and rainy day," he went on; "so Austin told me. My Lord Archbishop was led from Bocardo to Saint Mary Church, betwixt two friars that mumbled certain Psalms, and at the church door they began the _Nunc Dimittis_. My Lord was ill-favouredly clad, in a bare and ragged gown, and an old square cap. Dr Cole preached, and more than twenty times during the sermon, the Archbishop was seen to have the water in his eyes. Then they did desire him to get up into the pulpit, and openly to retract his preaching, and show all the people that he was become a true Catholic."

"And did he that?"

"'Fair and softly go far in a day.' Have a little patience, I pray you.

Well, he spake a long season, first, against the world; _item_, unto obedience; _item_, to brotherly love; _item_, against money-love; and lastly, he said over the Creed. 'And now (quoth he) I come to the great thing which so much troubleth my conscience.' He said his hand had offended against G.o.d, in signing his recantation; and when he should come to the fire, it should be first burned. And so he spake bravely, renouncing the Pope as Antichrist, and Christ's enemy and his, and that he utterly abhorred all his false doctrine. And touching the Sacrament, the doctrine 'which (saith he) I have taught in my book is true, and will stand at the last day before the judgment of G.o.d, when the Papistical doctrine contrary thereto shall be ashamed to show her head.'

"Well, like Paul, they gave him audience unto this word, and then cried out, Away with such a fellow from the earth! They cried that he was false, and dissembled. 'Ah, my masters!' quoth our good Archbishop, 'do you take it so? Always since I lived hitherto, I have been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of simplicity, and never before this time have I dissembled.' The water stood in his eyes; and he would have spoken more against the Pope and the ma.s.s, but Cole crieth out, 'Stop the heretic's mouth! Take him away!' Then the friars set upon him, and pulled him down out of the pulpit, and so hurried him away to the place where, five months before him, Dr Ridley had died.

"Then there he knelt and prayed, and made him, ready; and stood on the stones robed in his long white shirt, barefoot, and his head (whenas his cap were off) without one hair thereon, though his beard was long and thick. Then (he giving the hand to such as he knew about the stake), they bound the chain around him, and lit the fire. And until it was full burned, he held forth his right hand in the fire, crying ever and anon, 'This unworthy right hand!' At last he saith, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!' And so he yielded it up to Him. But afterward, when his ashes were cold, amid the charred f.a.ggots his heart was found entire.

"So pa.s.sed that great heart away from us, that perchance we knew not fully how to prize. Beshrew my weak eyes! I am but a fool; yet 'tis hard to think that we shall see his reverend countenance no more."

And Mr Underhill dashed away the tears from his eyes, much like Philippa Ba.s.set. Isoult never had seen him thus affected before.

But on their knees in their chambers, the Gospellers thanked G.o.d from their hearts that day, for this pouring forth of His Spirit upon the dry ground; for His glory thus exalted in the awakening of that dear brother from sleep which seemed as though it might be death; for His strength, so gloriously shown forth in mortal weakness, that warmed and quickened the last beatings of the n.o.ble heart of Archbishop Cranmer.

"Jack," said Isoult that night to her husband, "I would I had asked Mr Underhill if Austin had yet heard anything of Robin."

"Ah!" said he.