Edred's eyes were full of vivid intelligence. He followed in the Latin tongue the words as Brother Emmanuel spoke them, and looking up he asked wistfully:
"But where are they now, the apostles and prophets, the evangelists and pastors? Have we got them with us yet?"
"We have at least the semblance of them; doubtless but for our own sins and shortcomings we should have a fuller ministry--a fuller outpouring of the water of life through those four God-given channels by which the Church is to be fed. We have the apostolic office ever in exercise in our spiritual head at Rome. St. Peter has left us a successor, and his throne shall never be empty so long as the world lasts. Now and again the prophetic fire bursts forth in some holy man who has fasted and prayed until the veil betwixt the seen and the unseen has grown thin. Would to God there was more light of prophecy in the earth! Perchance in His grace and mercy He will outpour His Spirit once again upon the earth, and gather about his Holiness a band of men lighted by fire from above. In our wandering friars, ever going forth to the people with the word of the gospel, we have the office of evangelist in exercise; and the priest who guides the flock and dwells in the midst of the people of the land, surely he is the pastor, the keeper of the sheep. And thus we see that our blessed Saviour's gifts to men have been preserved all through these long centuries, and are still amongst us in greater or less degree; and we can well understand that having given us these channels, by which His vineyard is to be watered, by which the living waters are to flow forth, it is not His will that every man should be his own evangelist or pastor, feeding himself at will, drinking, perhaps to surfeit, of the precious waters which should be conveyed to him through the appointed channel, but that he should be under dutiful obedience and submission, and that thus and thus only may unity and peace be preserved, and the body grow together into its perfect stature and fullness."
"I see all that exactly," cried Bertram, "and I will strive to keep it in mind. I mislike the very name of Lollard, and I well know that they be a mischievous and pernicious brood, whom it were well to see exterminated root and branch. Yet no man can fail to see that they love the Scriptures, and I felt they were in the right there. Now I well see that they may love the Word as much as they will, but that they must still seek to be taught and fed by those who are over them in the Church, and not seek to eat and drink (in the spiritual sense of the word) at their own will and pleasure. That is truly what the Church has ever taught, but I never heard it so clearly explained before.
"Come, Julian; the sun is losing much of its power now. Let us stroll along the margin of the stream, and see where best we may fish upon the morrow.
"Edred, wilt thou come? No; I thought not. Thou art half a monk already. We will leave thee with Brother Emmanuel to talk more on these hard matters. I have heard enough to satisfy me, I shall never want to turn Lollard now. The name was always enough, but now I see more and more clearly how wrong-headed and wilful they be."
Julian, too, had got an answer that completely satisfied him, and he readily rose to go with his brother. Those two found an hour or two of thought and study as much at a time as they cared for. They called their dogs and sallied forth over the fields towards the shady, well-fringed river banks, and Brother Emmanuel was left alone with his second pupil, Edred, whose eyes were still fixed upon the black lettering of the great Bible open at the last passage under discussion.
The monk bent an earnest glance upon the boy's face. He saw that an argument which had completely satisfied the other two had not satisfied this other keener mind. But he asked no questions, leaving the boy to speak or not as he chose. These were days in which too much questioning was a dangerous thing. Many men felt as though they were treading the crust of a volcano, and that a single unwary step might plunge them headlong into the burning gulf.
When even such a man as Bishop Peacock had been threatened with the stake, and sent into perpetual imprisonment, even after having "recanted" his errors, no wonder that all men holding broad or enlightened opinions trembled for themselves. And yet, as thought will not be bound, and the young are ever the most ardent in the pursuit of truth, and the most impatient under the yoke of fetters unwillingly worn, so neither this young monk nor his still more youthful companion could be content to drift on without looking into the stirring questions of the day for themselves.
Edred's mind at this moment was working rapidly and following up a train of thought as fascinating as it was new. He suddenly turned back to the very beginning of the book, and began reading to himself some words he found there. Presently he looked up quickly into his instructor's face.
"Thy words about four channels put me in mind of the four streams we read of in the beginning, that watered the garden of the Lord. It seemed to me as if perchance there was some connection betwixt them--that the Lord's plan has ever been the same. Surely He led forth the children of Israel through the wilderness beneath four standards. And here the four streams are all given. But we hear no more of any of them later, do we, save the river Euphrates. Out of the four three seem to have been lost," and the boy raised his eyes with a perplexed expression and looked earnestly at his teacher.
Between those two existed one of those keen bonds of sympathy that often enable persons to communicate their thoughts without the medium of words. In a moment the monk had read what was in the boy's mind, and in a fashion he answered as though Edred had spoken.
"Thou thinkest that even as some of God's watering rivers ran dry, so some of His channels of grace, whereby He meant all men to be replenished with heavenly light and grace, may perchance have become choked and useless. Is not that thy thought, my son?"
"My father, is it sin thus to think?" asked Edred, almost beneath his breath. "I cannot shut mine eyes and mine ears. I have heard whispers of terrible corruption in high places even at Rome itself. I try not to hear or to think too much, but I cannot help my burning desire to know more of what passes in the world. It was but a short year ago that a godly man coming from foreign lands told us fearful tales of the corruption even of the papal court. O my father, I fear to whisper it even to thee; but I cannot but ask in my heart, can the popes be truly apostles? And if not, can we say that the channel of grace once given to men is open yet for us to drink from? Ah, pardon me if I err! I will do penance for my evil thoughts. But where may we find now those four life-giving streams by which Christ purposed to keep His body, the Church, nourished and sustained? Prophets there be none, save here and there a spark of the old fire. Those travelling friars are sometimes holy men; but, alas! they are bitter foes of the very Church from which they profess to be sent out, and are oft laid under the papal ban. We have our pastor priests; but do they feed the flock? O my father, how can I walk with closed eyes through this world of sin and strife? If the channels run dry, if the pastors refuse food to the hungry people, can it be sin if they strive to feed themselves, even though they be something too ignorant to do it wisely and well?"
A very grave, thoughtful, and austere look was stamped upon the face towards which Edred directed his gaze. It was long before he received any answer, and then it was but a sorrowful one.
"My son, I will not blame thee for these thoughts, albeit they be charged with peril in these days. It is human nature thus to question and thus to doubt. We may not blind our eyes, though we must ever strive to chasten our hearts, that we fall not into the condemnation of those who speak evil of dignities, and bring a railing accusation against those set over them. I, too, have had my period of storm-tossed doubts and fears; but I have learned to fix mine eyes upon the Holy One of Israel, who never slumbers nor sleeps--upon the crucified Saviour, who has suffered that death of agony and shame that He may draw all men unto Himself. How He will do it I know not. How He will open up again the closed channels, and make ready His Church to meet Him and receive Him, I can not even conjecture. But His word cannot fail; and in His own appointed time, and in His own appointed way, I verily believe that He will draw unto Himself all men who have ever called upon His name, and all those unto whom His name has never been proclaimed, and who, therefore, have never rejected Him. In that hope and that belief I try to rest; and fixing my eyes and thoughts upon Him and Him alone, I strive to forget the chaos and the strife of earth, and to look upon all men as brothers in Christ, if they will but bow the knee at that thrice holy name."
Edred looked at him with wide-open eyes.
"Heretics call upon the name of Jesus. Thinkest thou that heretics will be saved? I thought they were doomed to hellfire forever!"
The boy spoke in a voice that was little more than a whisper. He was almost afraid to hear the answer, lest it should convey a germ of the dreaded heresy, and yet how eager he was to know what Brother Emmanuel really thought.
"It is not for me to say who will and who will not be saved," he said, slowly and thoughtfully; "and we are expressly told that there will be punishment for those who fall away from the faith. Yet we are not told that error will be punished with everlasting death. And there be places in Holy Scripture which tell us that 'whoso believeth and is baptized shall be saved;' and heretics believe that Christ died for the world. It says, again, that those who love the Lord are born of God; and shall they perish everlastingly? My son, the mercies of God are very great; from end to end of this book we are told that. Knowing so much, need we ask more? With Him rests the judgment of all mankind. He alone can read the heart. Let that thought be enough for us. Whether the sin of heresy is as vile in His eyes as in those of man, He alone knows; we do not. Let us strive for our own part to keep the unity of the faith in the bond of peace, and leave all else to Him."
As he spoke, Brother Emmanuel gently closed the book, as though to close the discussion likewise; and Edred, looking up and round about him, drawing a long breath meantime, suddenly gave a start, which attracted the attention of his preceptor.
A short distance away--how he had got there neither of the pair knew; they had been too much engrossed in their talk to take much heed of external impressions--was an elderly monk, clad in the same gown and hood as Brother Emmanuel, betokening that he too was of the Benedictine order; and his face, shrouded in its cowl, was turned towards the pair with a very peculiar expression upon it. A sinister smile was in the narrow beady eyes; the features, which were coarse and somewhat bloated from luxurious living, were set in a look of ill-concealed malice; and the salutation addressed to the pair when he saw himself perceived had in it something of an incongruous sound.
"Pax vobiscum!" said the newcomer, lifting his hand as if to impart a blessing.
Edred instinctively bent the knee, but Brother Emmanuel's face did not move a muscle.
"Hast thou come with a message for me from the reverend father?" he asked quietly.
"Nay, not for thee. My message was to Sir Oliver; but I will report to the father how excellently I found thee employed--training thy pupils in all godliness and honesty, and in that hatred of heresy which it behoves all true sons of the Church to cherish."
There was a spiteful gleam in the man's eyes as he spoke these words that made Edred shiver; but the calm regard of the younger monk did not waver.
"I have taught him nothing but what I have heard our good Dean of St. Paul's speak before princes and prelates in the pulpit," answered Brother Emmanuel, not pretending to misunderstand the innuendo conveyed. "Methinks it would profit many of our brothers in country places to hear what is being thought and taught in Oxford and London, in all the great centres of the country. The reverend father knows well what I hold and what I teach."
So clear and steadfast was the light in the young monk's eyes, that the regard of the other fell before it. He made a gesture, as if to repudiate the defence as a thing quite superfluous.
"The piety and orthodoxy of Brother Emmanuel are known far and wide," he answered, in a tone that was half cringing, half spiteful; "no truer son of the Church than he lives in all the land."
And then with another salutation he turned and glided away in the lengthening shadows, whilst Edred turned to Brother Emmanuel with rather a scared face, and asked:
"Dost think he heard what we were saying?"
"Belike he caught a phrase or two," was the answer, spoken gravely but quite calmly. "I would not speak words of which I am ashamed; at the same time, it is well in these perilous days to use all caution, for an enemy can well distort and magnify the words he hears, till they sound like rank heresy. For myself I have no fear. I prize not my life greatly, though to die as a heretic, cut off from the Church of Christ, is a fearful thing to think of. Yet even that might be better than denying the truth--if indeed one believes the truth to lie without, which assuredly I do not. But thou, my son, would do well to think something less of these matters. Thou art but a child in years, and--"
"I am quickly rising to man's estate," answered the boy, rather impetuously, "and my thoughts will not be chained. I must give them liberty to rove where they will. All men are talking and thinking of these things, and wherefore not I? But, Brother Emmanuel, tell me, who was yon black-browed brother? Methinks I have seen his face before; but beneath the cowl many faces look alike. Who was he? and wherefore looked he so askance at thee?"
"Brother Fabian loves me not," answered the monk with a slight smile. "I scarce know how it began; it seemed to commence from the day I entered the priory. I had looked to find things there somewhat different. Perchance I spoke more than I should, being young and ardent, and fresh from places where a different order reigned. Brother Fabian holds various offices in the priory. He liked not my words. Methinks he has never forgotten or forgiven. He has always sour looks for me, and ofttimes sneering words. But I heed them not greatly; they do not touch me near."
Edred was looking straight out before him, with a gaze in which there was much of shrinking and surprise.
"Brothers in the same monastery at enmity one with the other!" he said slowly, grasping more than had been spoken, with that quick intuition which existed between tutor and pupil. "Some, leading lives of luxury, indignant with those who would protest against them. Brother Emmanuel, my father, my friend, when these things come before me, I turn with loathing from the thought of entering the life of the cloister; and yet how I long to give myself wholly to the cause of God! How can I judge? how can I choose aright?"
"Thou must not try to choose," answered the young monk, with a touch of austerity in his tone; "thou must await that leading and that guiding which never fail those who truly wait upon the blessed Son of God, and strive to do not their will but the will of Him who pleased not Himself. At the foot of His Cross--before the altar, where His precious body and blood are ever abiding in memorial of His one sacrifice for sin--there is the place to seek grace and guidance; there is the place where peace may be found. Because man is frail, shall we despise the ordinances of God? Because men are able to make (if such be their will) a hell upon earth even of holy places, is that any reason why we shall think scorn of those sanctuaries, provided by the merciful goodness of God, where men may flee for shelter from the world, and lead a life of devotion and fasting and prayer? My son, beware of the manifold snares of the devil. The young are ever ready to condemn and to revolt. It is the nature of the unchastened will of man. Be patient, and watch unto prayer. The day will surely come when (if thou wilt but listen for it) the voice will speak in thine heart, and tell thee what thou art called upon to do, even as it spoke in mine, and called me from the snares and enticements of the world to the haven of the cloister. I know not yet what my work in this world will be; but it is enough that my Lord and Master knows. I am here, abiding in my place and awaiting my call. May He grant that whensoever and howsoever that call may come, I may hear it and be ready for it, and may follow the guiding voice even to the end."
A rapt look was in the dark eyes. Edred caught the enthusiasm of that look, and half unconsciously sank down upon his knee.
"Bless me, even me also, O my father!" he cried, scarce knowing what words he chose; and the thin, strong hand was laid upon his head.
"God be with thee and bless thee, my son," said the monk, in grave, steadfast tones; "and may He be thy guide and thy portion henceforth and forever. May He show thee the way in which He would have thee to go, and give thee grace and strength to follow it unto the end."
For a moment deep silence prevailed. Both were rapidly reviewing the words that day spoken, and the thoughts suggested by the bare discussion of such subjects; and Edred, rising and looking with a strange smile into the monk's face, said softly:
"Methinks it would not be hard to die in a righteous cause; but to be hunted to death through the spite and malice of a treacherous foe, that would be an evil fate. I would fight with the best member I possess against such an one, were he to be mine own enemy or thine."
A smile crossed Brother Emmanuel's face.
"Go to, boy! thou art more soldier than monk yet. Methinks thou wouldst fight bravely and well in a good cause. Perchance that would be the best and happiest lot for thee--
"There be thy brothers coming up from the water. Go join them, and think not too much for thy years. Be a youth as long as thou mayest. Manhood's cares will come all too fast."
With that he turned and went quietly towards the house, whilst Edred went forth to meet his brothers.
Chapter IV: The Travelling Preacher.
Perhaps it was the memory of those spiteful and malicious glances bent upon his preceptor by Brother Fabian that suggested to Edred upon the day following to pay a visit to the secret chamber that had once before so well sheltered a helpless fugitive.
The secret of that chamber still remained with the three boys and their faithful esquire, Warbel. To no other living soul in the house had any of these four ever named the matter. The boys might not have been able to give any reason for this reticence towards their parents, but the fact remained that they had never revealed the secret to them, and that although tradition still spoke of a cleverly-masked chamber somewhere at Chad, it was now popularly supposed to have been in that part of the house which had boon demolished during the Wars of the Roses. Children did not chatter to their parents in days of old as they do now. They might love them never so well, but they held them in reverence and even in awe. They were silent in their presence, as a rule, unless spoken to first, and the habit of conversational intimacy did not grow up until a much later period in their lives. Thus the adventures of Warbel, and his strange midnight visit to their bedchamber, had never been told to Sir Oliver or his wife. All they knew was that the man had taken refuge from the anger of the Lord of Mortimer in one of their woodmen's huts. They were glad to give him shelter and employment at Chad, and had never regretted the hospitality extended to him; for he had proved the most faithful of servants, and his devotion to the boys was so great that they could be trusted anywhere in his keeping.
As for the anger of his proud neighbour, Sir Oliver had made light of that. The Lord of Mortimer could not make any thing out of so small a matter, and at that time had other more weighty affairs on hand. Warbel's stories to his fellows of the harshness and tyrannical rule at Mortimer made his own servants more loyal and stanch than ever. Chad was a peaceable and happy abode for all its inmates, and the need for secret hiding places had so far never arisen.
The boys in years gone by had almost regretted this fact. They had pictured so vividly how they would hide their father or some friend of his in this secret chamber, should peril menace them from any quarter, that it had seemed sometimes almost a pity that so secure a hiding place should be of so little use, when it might have done such excellent service had the need arisen.
However, as years sped by and the lads began to know more of life, they ceased to regret that the secret chamber remained without an occupant. From time to time they visited it, swept out the dust and cobwebs that had accumulated there, and bit by bit collected a few more odds and ends of furniture, so that the place now wore a look of greater comfort and habitation than it had done when they saw it first.
Once when Edred had been laid up by an accident to his foot, he had amused himself by making a number of feather pillows from the feathers of the birds his brothers shot and brought home to him. These feathers were dressed in the proper way by the boys themselves, and then made up into large pillows or cushions, which were then taken up to the secret chamber (at that time the favourite hobby of the boys), in order to make restful and comfortable the hard pallet bed, in case any fugitive were forced to take shelter there. In the same way had several rudely-made rugs, formed of the skins of wild bears taken in the woods, and tanned by the boys in a fashion of their own, found their way thither; and altogether the place had assumed an aspect of some comfort and even luxury, although it was now several years since any further additions had been made to its plenishings.
Edred looked round the strange apartment with a thoughtful air as he emerged into it from the long, dark, twisting passage he had threaded with the security of one to whom every winding and turn was known. It was dim and dark there, but sufficient light filtered in through cracks and cleverly-contrived apertures to render it easy to move about; and when the eye grew used to the dimness, everything could be seen with pretty fair distinctness.
"It would not be a bad hiding place," mused the boy, speaking half aloud. "Methinks over there one could even read without much trouble. Yes, without doubt one could; and that crack might be judiciously enlarged without any peril. It does but give upon the leads behind the main chimney stack, and the tiles would cover any aperture I made."
He took out his large hunting knife from his girdle as he spoke, and worked away awhile in silence. Very soon he had considerably added to the amount of light in the strange room. He eyed his handiwork with considerable satisfaction.
"That is better. It would be something gloomy to be shut up here without light enough to study by; but with books and food one might spend many a week here and not be overwhelmed with dullness. The place is something straight, to be sure, and there is bare room for a tall man to stand upright."
Edred drew himself to his full height, and found that his head did not quite reach the beams which formed the ceiling.
"I trow Brother Emmanuel could just stand; he is not greatly taller than I. And he is marvellous contented with a very little, and has been used to passing days and weeks in the solitude of his cell. Sure this would not be to him an evil place. If he had but a book or two and the needful food, he would be vastly content.
"I wonder if he can be in any sort of peril. I liked not the looks or the words of you malicious monk. Our father and mother often say that these be times when men must walk warily, and ofttimes they tell of godly men even in high places who have fallen into disgrace and been accused of fearful sins. It is not safe in these days to have for enemies those who are within the pale of the Church--monks and priors, men who are held up as examples and models of true faith and piety.
"I know not whether they merit the praise men give to them. Methinks Brother Emmanuel could teach them many things both in precept and practice. But it is not for me to be the judge in such matters; yet if he were in any kind of peril, I would lay down my life to save him!"
The boy's eyes kindled at the thought. He cherished for his preceptor an ardent and enthusiastic love, and he had his share of that chivalrous devotion and self-sacrifice which has been the brightest ornament of days that have much of darkness and cruelty to disgrace them.
His face wore a very earnest look as he set about his homely task of cleaning and setting in order this secret chamber. He was more than two hours over his task, for he went through it with unwonted energy. The place looked almost tempting before he had done with it, and he looked about him with satisfied eyes at the close of his labours.
There was a convenient spout, meant to carry off the rain water from the complex level of the old roof, which made an excellent substitute for a dust shoot. It could be got at from this place without difficulty, and Edred shot down his rubbish without any trouble through a funnel-like piece of wood he and his brothers had contrived for the purpose many years before. Then he stood quite still at the aperture whence the soft breeze came blowing in, lost in thought.
"It doth get very hot here in the summer days," he remarked, "and in especial at this end of the room, where it abuts upon the leads. It is cooler yonder, but then it is also darker. The air and the light come in at this side, but so does the heat likewise. And how thirsty one gets, too! My throat is parched and dry. I mind me how poor Warbel suffered in like manner when he was here. Food could be brought in without trouble. I will amass even now by slow degrees some of those hard oaten cakes that keep good for weeks, and some salted venison that would last the winter through.
"But water--how could that be brought? Suppose that we too were watched; suppose we dared not go through the secret door? What would become of the prisoner?
"I must talk to Bertram and Julian about that. Bertram has a wonderful gift for getting out of such difficulties; he has a marvellous quick wit. We never thought in old days how the water was to be conveyed; we thought a few bottles of wine would last a lifetime. But to die of thirst would be worse than to face one's foes. I shall not really rest till I have thought how such a danger might be guarded against."
Edred left the place with a thoughtful air. He gained their own long sleeping room without adventure. Nobody was ever there at this hour of the day, and he sat down on his bed to think and plan.
There his brothers found him later when they came rushing up tumultuously to find him.
"Ha! thou art there. We have been seeking thee everywhere. What hast thou been doing, brother?"
"I have been up to the room," answered the boy. "I have been making it all ready. I was something disturbed by what chanced yester-afternoon. I told thee of Brother Fabian and his evil looks?"
The other two nodded.
"Yes, verily; but they be brothers of one fraternity. Surely one Benedictine would not hurt another?"
"I know not that. I was talking this day with Warbel. He has been about in the world. He has seen priests and monks accused of heresy the one by the other; and none are so fearfully persecuted as those who wear the tonsure, if men do but suspect them of that sin.
"Brother Emmanuel a heretic!" cried Bertram, with flashing eyes. "I would force the word down the false throat of any who dared to say so! Brother Emmanuel is a right holy man. Art thou mad, Edred, to think such a thing?"
The boy shook his head doubtfully.
"I would I were," he replied; "but methinks Brother Emmanuel himself thinks that peril may menace him. I understand not rightly these matters; but I saw that yesterday upon his face which showed me that he felt he stood something in peril, albeit he has no fear. He is not of the stuff of which cowards are made."
Julian's eyes were wide with affright.
"They say the Lollards and heretics are to be sought out and burned, and that right soon," he said, in low, awe-struck tones. "Some of our people heard it today from those at Mortimer. The Lord of Mortimer has become very zealous to help the priests and monks to scent out all suspected of heresy and make a great example of them.
"Edred, thou dost not think they will take Brother Emmanuel--and--burn--him?"
The last words were little more than a whisper.
"I will die sooner than see it done!" cried the boy passionately. "But in these days no man may say who is safe. Therefore went I up to the chamber this very day to set it in order;" and then he told his brothers of the difficulty that had beset him there, and how he felt no security for any person in hiding there so long as the difficulty of conveying water to him remained so great.
Bertram grasped the situation in a moment. He well knew that if any person were suspected of lying hidden in the house, a close watch might well be kept upon every member of the household, and that it might be hard indeed to pay more than a very occasional visit to the prisoner. If, for instance, suspicion were to fall upon the boys in this matter, it would be probable they would be placed under some restraint; they might be carried off to the priory and forced to do some penance there. It would never do for the prisoner to be entirely dependent upon them for supplies of the precious commodity; and yet what else was to be done?
"I must think about it," cried Bertram. "I shall never rest till I have thought of some method. Would we had not left it so long! We have had all these years to make our plans, and we have never thought of this thing till trouble seems like to be at the very doors.
"Still it may but be our fantasy. Neither Brother Emmanuel nor any other may need the shelter of this room. We will trust it may be so.
"Yet I will cudgel my brains for a plan. It would be a fearful thing to know him to be shut up here, and yet to be unable to visit him with the necessaries of life. How poor Warbel drank when he issued forth that night. Methinks I see him now. One would have thought he had never tasted water before."
"But we came not to talk of all this," interrupted Julian, who had been evincing a few signs of impatience latterly; "we came to tell of the fair held today and tomorrow at Chadwick. Our father says we may go thither tomorrow if we will. Warbel says they will bait a bull, and perhaps a bear; and that there will be fighting with the quarterstaff and shooting with cross and long bow, and many other like spectacles. He will attend us, and we may be off with the light of day, an we will. That is what we came to tell thee, Edred."
Edred was boy enough to be well pleased at this news. Any variety in the day's round was pleasing to the lads, who found life a little monotonous, albeit pleasant enough. It was a relief, too, to turn from grave thoughts and anxious forebodings to the anticipation of simpler pleasures, and the boys all ran to seek Warbel and ask him what these village fairs were like; for they had been much interrupted during the recent wars, and only now that peace had been for some years established did they begin to revive and gain their old characteristics.
At break of day on the morning following, the little party started forth on foot to walk the five miles which separated them from the village of Chadwick. It was a pleasant enough walk through the green forest paths before the heat of the day had come. The three boys and Warbel headed the party, and were followed by some eight or ten men of various degree, some bent on a day's pleasure for themselves, others there with a view of attending upon their master's sons.
Bertram felt that he could have dispensed with any attendance save that of Warbel; but Sir Oliver had given his own orders. With so powerful and jealous a neighbour within easy reach of the village, he felt bound to be careful of his children. They were but striplings after all, and doubtless his unscrupulous neighbour would be delighted to hold one or more as a hostage should excuse arise for opening hostilities of any kind. He knew well the unscrupulous character of the man with whom he had to deal, and he acted with prudence and foresight accordingly.
The little village when reached proved to be all en fete. Rude arches of greenery crossed every pathway to the place, and all the people had turned out in their holiday dresses upon the green to join in the dances and see the sights. There was a miracle play going on in one place, repeated throughout the day to varying groups of spectators. In another corner some rude gipsy juggling was to be seen, at which the rustic yokels gazed with wondering eyes. There were all the usual country games in full swing; and the baiting of a great bull, which was being led to the centre of the green, attracted the attention of the bulk of the spectators, and drew them away from other sports. The actors in the miracle play threw off their dresses to come and witness this delightful pastime, and hardly any of those present seemed to regard for a moment the sufferings of the poor brute, or the savage nature of the whole performance.
Edred, however, belonged to that very small minority, and whilst his two brothers pressed into the ring, he wandered away elsewhere to see what was to be seen. His attention was attracted by a little knot of persons gathered together under the shade of a great oak tree, rather far away from the green that was the centre of attraction. The shade looked inviting, now that the heat was growing greater, and the boy felt some curiosity to know what was the attraction which kept this little group so compact and quiet. On the green were shouting and yelling and noise of every description; but Edred could hear no sound of any kind proceeding from this little group till he approached quite near, and then he was aware of the sound of a single voice speaking in low tones and very earnestly.
When he got nearer still he saw that the speaker was a little hunchback, and that he had in his hand a small book from which he was reading aloud to the people about him. And this fact surprised the boy not a little, for it was very unusual for any person in the lower ranks of life to be able to read; and yet this man was evidently in poor circumstances, for his clothes were shabby and his hands were hardened by manual toil.
Drawing nearer in great curiosity, Edred became aware that what the hunchback was reading was nothing more or less than a part of the gospel narrative in the English tongue, to which the people about him were listening in amazement, and with keen curiosity and attention.
Edred was familiar enough with the Latin version of the Scriptures, and had studied them under the guidance of Brother Emmanuel with great care and attention; but he had never yet heard the words read out in their entirety in his native tongue, and he was instantly struck and fascinated by the freshness and suggestiveness of the familiar language when used for this purpose. He was conscious that it gave to the words a new life and meaning; that it seemed, as it were, to drive them home to the heart in a new fashion, and to make them the property of the listener as they could never be when a dead language was used as the medium of expression. He felt a strange thrill run through him as the story of Calvary was thus read in the low, impassioned tones of the hunchback; and he was not surprised to see that tears were running down many faces, and that several women could hardly restrain their sobs.
Now and again the hunchback paused and added a few explanatory words of his own; now and again he broke forth into a rhapsody not lacking in a certain rude eloquence, in which he besought his hearers to come to their Saviour with their load of sin--their Saviour, who was the one and only Mediator between God and man. Were not His own words enough--"Father, forgive them"? What need, then, of the priest; the confessional; the absolution of man? To God and to Him alone was the remission of sins. Let those who loved their Lord seek to Him, and see what bliss and happiness resulted from this personal bond between the erring soul and the loving Saviour.
Edred shivered slightly as he stood, yet something in the impassioned gestures of the hunchback, and the strange enthusiastic light which shone in his eyes, attracted him in spite of himself. That this was rank heresy he well knew. He knew that one of the Lollard tenets had always been that confession was a snare devised of man and not appointed by God. Edred himself could have quoted many passages from Holy Writ which spoke of some need of confession through the medium of man, and of sins remitted by God-appointed ministers. He had been well instructed in such matters by Brother Emmanuel, who, whatever his enemies might allege against him, was a stanch son of the Church, even though he might be gifted with a wide tolerance and a mind open to conviction; and his pupil was not to be easily convinced against his will. Nor was Edred convinced of the justice and truth of many things that this ignorant man spoke; but what did strike him very greatly was his intense earnestness, his fiery and impassioned gestures, the absolute confidence he possessed in the righteousness of his own cause, and his utter freedom from any kind of doubt or fear--the eloquence of one of nature's orators that carries away the heart far more than the studied oratory which is the result of practice and artifice.
Whilst the man spoke, Edred felt himself carried away in spite of his inner consciousness that there was a flaw in the argument of the preacher. He was intensely interested by the whole scene. He could not help watching the faces of the group of which he made one, watching the play of emotion upon them as they followed with breathless attention their instructor's words, and drank in his fiery eloquence as though it were life-giving water.
And was it wonderful this should be so? the youth asked of himself. Were not these poor people fairly starving for want of spiritual food? and what food did they receive from the hands of their parish priest? Edred knew the old man well. He was a kind-hearted sexagenarian, and in those days that was accounted an immense age. He mumbled through the mass on Sundays; he baptized the children and buried the dead when need arose; and if sent for by some person in extremity, would go and administer the last rites of the Church. But beyond that his duties did not go, and no living soul in the place remembered hearing him speak a word of instruction or admonition on his own account. He had a passion for gardening, and spent all his spare time with his flowers; and his people went their way as he did his, and their lives never touched on any point.
Such being the case, was it wonderful that the people should come with eagerness to hear of the Saviour from whomsoever would tell them of Him? Edred well remembered Brother Emmanuel's words about the four God-given channels of grace--the living ministry by which He had meant His Church to be perfected. But how when the streams grew choked? how when the ministry had become a dead letter? Was the Church, were the people, to die of inanition? Might not God pardon them for listening to any messenger who came with His name upon his lips? Surely He who lived in the heavens would pardon them even if it were sin, seeing that it was the instinctive love of His own wandering sheep which brought them crowding round any shepherd who would teach them of Him, even though he did not come in the God-directed order.
Some such thoughts in a more chaotic form surged through Edred's head as he stood listening, almost causing him to lose the words of the preacher, though the tenor of his discourse was plain. He almost wished he might enter into a discussion with this enthusiast, and point out to him where he thought him extravagant and wrong; but young as he was, Edred yet knew something of the futility of argument with those whose minds are made up, and caution withheld him from entering into any argument with one who was plainly a Lollard preacher. So, after listening with sympathy and interest for a long while, he quietly stole away again.
The bull baiting was over by this time. The games and other sports were recommencing with greater energy after this brief interruption. The miracle play was again represented, and Edred stood a few minutes to watch, thinking within his heart that this representation, half comical, half blasphemous (though the people who regarded it seemed in no way aware of this), was a strange way of bringing home the realities of the Scriptures, when it could be done so far more faithfully and eloquently by simply reading the gospel words in the tongue of the common people.
His eye roved from the actors, with their mincing words and artificial gestures, to the group still collected beneath the tree, and he could not but contrast the two methods in his own mind, and wonder for a moment whether the Lollards could be altogether so desperately wicked as their enemies would make out.
He was half afraid of allowing himself to think too much on such themes, and went in search of his brothers. He found Warbel looking out for him in some anxiety. He had missed the boy for some little while from his charge, and as the field was filling fast with followers and servants wearing the Mortimer livery, he was glad to have the three boys all together beneath his care.
He would have been glad to get them to leave the place, but Bertram would not hear of it. He wished to try his own skill at some of the sports; and Julian, of course, must needs follow his example.
The skill and address of the Chadgrove brothers won the hearty admiration of the rustics, but it also brought them more than once into rivalry and collision with some of Mortimer's gentlemen-at-arms, who were not best pleased to be overmatched by mere striplings. It was also galling and irritating to them to note the popularity of these lads with the rustics. Any success of theirs was rewarded by loud shouting and applause, whilst no demonstration of satisfaction followed any feat performed by those wearing the livery of Mortimer. And if the lads scored a triumph over any of these latter, the undisguised delight of the beholders could not pass unnoticed by the vanquished.
Altogether there were so much jealousy and ill will aroused that little scuffles between the followers of Chad and Mortimer had already taken place in more than one part of the field. Warbel was getting very uneasy, and had persuaded Edred to use his influence with his brothers to return home before any real collision should have occurred, when a great tumult and shouting suddenly arose to interrupt the whispered colloquy, and Edred saw a great rush being made in the direction of the oak tree, where the hunchback preacher had been keeping his station the whole day long, always surrounded by a little knot of listeners.
Shouts and yells were filling the air, the voices being those of Mortimer's following.
"A Lollard, a Lollard! A heretic! Down with him! Away with him! To the fire with him! A Lollard, a Lollard!"
A deep flush overspread Edred's face. He made a spring forward; but Warbel laid a detaining hand upon his arm.
"It is no case for us to interfere in," he said, with clouded brow. "If they have a heretic to deal with we must not meddle. It is not England's way for a score to attack one; but we must not interpose betwixt Mortimer and a heretic. That would be too much peril."
But almost before the man had done speaking Edred broke away, crying out excitedly: "My brothers, my brothers! they are there in the thick of it!" and with a groan of terror and dismay Warbel recognized the voice of Bertram raised in angry scorn.
"Stand back, you cowards! Who ever heard of fifty men against one, and he a cripple? The first who touches him I strike dead. A heretic! Pooh! nonsense. He is but a poor travelling peddler with his pack. See, here is the pack to speak for itself. For shame to mar a merry holiday in this unmannerly fashion! No; I will not give him up! Ye are no better than a pack of howling, ravening wolves. I am the Lord of Chad, and I will see that no violence is done this day. Back to your sports, ye unmannerly knaves. Are ye fit for nothing but to set upon one helpless man and worry him as dogs worry their helpless prey?"
Howls, execrations, oaths followed freely; but the village people were to a man with their young lord, and the scions of Mortimer felt it by instinct.
"Who is he? Whence came he?" was being asked on all sides; but none could give an answer. He was a stranger to the village, but all those who had been drinking in his words rallied round him, and declared he was but a simple peddler whose wares they had been buying; and Bertram, who really thought so, stood beside the tree, opened the bundle, and showed the innocent nature of the wares.
His brothers had forced their way to his side by this time, and helped to make a ring round the poor hunchback; and Edred kept a very sharp eye upon the emptying of the pack, resolved if there should be any book at the bottom to contrive that it should not reach the eyes of any of the vindictive followers of Mortimer.
But there was nothing of the sort to be seen. The man was both too poor and too wary to carry such dangerous things with him. His own thin volume had been slipped into some secret receptacle about his person, and his calmness of bearing helped to convince all who were open to conviction that he was innocent of the charge brought against him.
With dark, lowering faces, and many muttered threats, the Mortimer retainers drew off, seeing that with public feeling dead against them they could not prevail to work their will upon the intended victim. But Warbel was made very anxious by the words he heard openly spoken on all sides, and he would have given much to have hindered this act of Bertram's, generous and manly though he knew it to have been.
"It is ill work drawing down the charge of heresy," he remarked, as he got the boys at last in full march homeward. "Any other charge one can laugh to scorn; but no man may tell where orthodoxy ends and heresy begins. Godly bishops have been sent to prison, and priests to the stake. How may others hope to escape?"
"Tush!" answered Bertram lightly; "there was never a heretic at Chad yet, and never will be one, I trow. Was I to see a poor cripple like that done to death without striking a blow in his defence--he in Chadwick, of which my father is lord of the manor? Was I to see Mortimer's men turning a gay holiday into a scene of horror and affright? Never! I were unworthy of my name had I not interposed. The man was no heretic, and if he had been--"
"Have a care, sir, how thou speakest; have a care, I entreat thee! Thou knowest not what ears may be listening!" cried Warbel, in a real fright.
Bertram laughed half scornfully.
"I have no need to be ashamed of what I think. I am a true son of the Church, and fear not what the vile Mortimer scum may say. But to pleasure thee, good Warbel, I will say no more. We will make our way home with all speed, and tell the tale to our father. I doubt not he will say it was well done. The Lord of Chad would ever have the defenceless protected, and stand between them and the false and treacherous bloodhounds of Mortimer. I have no fear that he will blame me. He would have done the same in my place."
"I trow he would," answered Warbel in a low voice; "but that does not make the deed done without peril of some sort following to the doer."
Chapter V: A Warning.
Sir Oliver and his wife listened with some anxiety to the boys' story of the rescue of the peddler. Bertram observed the cloud upon his father's brow, and eagerly asked if he had done wrong.
"I say not so, my son," replied the knight. "I would ever have a child of mine merciful and just--the protector of the oppressed, and the champion of the defenceless; nevertheless--"
"And it was those bloodhounds of Mortimer's who were setting upon him," broke in Julian vehemently. "What right had they to molest him? Could we of Chad, upon our own soil, stand by and see it done? I trow, father, that thou wouldst have done the same hadst thou been there."
A smile flitted over the face of the knight. He loved to see the generous fire burning in his boys' eyes; but for all that his face was something anxious as he made reply:
"Belike I should, my son, albeit perhaps in a something less vehement fashion. My authority would have served to keep down riot, and the charge against the peddler could have been forthwith examined, and if found false the man could then have been sent on his way in safety. But it is dangerous work just now to appear to side with those against whom the foul charge of heresy is brought. Knowest thou--know any of ye--what gave rise to the sudden suspicion?"
Edred, who knew much more of the real nature of the peddler's occupation that day, kept his lips close sealed. He would not for worlds have told what he had seen and heard. His brothers were plainly ignorant of the peddler's exhortation, reading, and preaching. It was not for him to add to the anxieties of his parents.
Julian was the first to answer the question.
"It was but the idle spite of the people of Mortimer," he answered. "They had baited the bull and the bear, and they had the mind to bait or burn a heretic whilst their blood was up, as a fit end to their day's pleasuring. I saw them prowling round the tree where the fellow was talking to the women and showing his wares; and suddenly they raised the shout. I called out to Bertram that Mortimer's people were bent on a mischief, and he sprang to the peddler's side before any had touched him, and we disappointed the hell hounds of their prey. He had nothing in his pack but such wares as all peddlers have; and the people vowed he had done naught all the day but sell to all who came. It would have been sin and shame for us of Chad to have stood by to see him hounded perhaps to death. We could not choose but balk those evil men of their will. None of our blood could have stood by to see such ill done!"
"I cannot blame ye, my sons," said the knight. "Ye have the blood of your forefathers in your veins, and it goes against all of us at Chad to see injustice and unrighteousness committed. I do but wish the cry raised against yon man had been anything else than that of heresy. The priests and magistrates are very busy now searching out all those suspected of that vile sin, and those who shelter them are accounted as guilty as those who are proved tainted. Our foe of Mortimer is very zealous in the good cause, and will not scruple to employ against us every weapon in his power. It would be an excellent thing in his eyes to show how mine own children had stood up to defend a Lollard heretic. I would we knew something more anent this man and his views.
"Warbel, didst thou know him? Is he anyone known in and about Chad?"
"I never saw his face before, sir," answered Warbel. "I know not so much as his name. I had thought of making some inquiries of the village folks. All I noted was that he seemed always to have plenty of persons around and about him, and his wares were nothing very attractive. Still, it is often the tales peddlers tell and the way they have with them that keeps a crowd always about them. Some of the folks of the place must know who and what he is."
"Yes, verily; and it would be well for thee to ride over tomorrow and make all needful inquiry. It would set my mind at rest to know that there was no cause of complaint against him. We cannot be blind to the fact that heretical doctrines are widely spread by those purporting to be hawkers and peddlers. Yet there must be many honest men who would scorn to be so occupied, and who know not even the name of these pestilent heresies."
And with that charge the knight tried to dismiss the subject from his mind; whilst Edred went to bed feeling terribly uneasy, and dreamed all night of the secret chamber, and how the time came when they were all forced to take refuge in it from the hatred of the Lord of Mortimer and his bloodthirsty followers.
But not even to his brothers did he tell all that he had heard and all that he knew. The words of the gospel in the familiar language of his country haunted him persistently. He felt a strange wish to hear more, although he believed the wish to be sin, and strove against it might and main. Some of the passages clung tenaciously to his memory, and he fell asleep repeating them. When he woke the words were yet in his mind, and they seemed to get between him and the words of his task that day when the boys went to their tutor for daily instruction.
Brother Emmanuel had never found Edred so inattentive and absent before. He divined that the boy must have something on his mind, and let him alone. He was not surprised that he lingered when the others had gone, and then in a low voice asked his preceptor if he would meet him in the chantry, as he felt he could not be happy till he had made confession of a certain matter, done penance, and received absolution.
A request of that sort never met a denial from the monk. He sent Edred to the chantry to pray for an hour, and met him there at the end of that time to listen to all he had to say.
Edred's story was soon told--nothing held back, not even the innermost thoughts of his heart--and the expression of the face beneath the enshrouding cowl was something strange to see.
It was long before the monk spoke, and meantime Edred lay prostrate at his feet, thankful to transfer the burden weighing him down to the keeping of another, but little guessing what the burden was to him to whom he made this confession.
Well did Brother Emmanuel know and recognize the peril of entertaining such thoughts, longings, and aspirations as were now assailing the heart of this unconscious boy. That there was sin in all these feelings he did not doubt; that heavy penance must be done for them he would not for a moment have wished to deny. But yet when he came to place reason in the place of the formulas of the Church in which he had been reared, he knew not how to condemn that longing after the Word of God which was generally the first step towards the dreaded sin of heresy.
No one more sincerely abhorred the name and the sin of heresy. When men denied the presence of the living God in the sacraments of the Church, or attacked its time-honoured practices in which the heart of the young monk was bound up, then the whole soul of the enthusiast rose up in revolt, and he felt that such blasphemers well deserved the fiery doom they brought upon themselves. But when their sin was possessing a copy of the living Word; when all that could be alleged against them was that they met together to read that Word which was denied to them by their lawful pastors and teachers, and which they had no opportunity of hearing otherwise--then indeed did it seem a hard thing that they should be so mercilessly condemned and persecuted.
Yet he could not deny that this reading and expounding of the Scriptures by the ignorant and unlearned led almost invariably to those other sins of blasphemy and irreverence which curdled the very blood in his veins. Again and again had his heart burned within him to go forth amongst the people himself; to take upon himself and put in practice the office of evangelist, which he knew to be a God-appointed ministry, and yet which was so seldom worthily fulfilled, and himself to proclaim aloud the gospel, that all might have news of the Son of God, yet might be taught to reverence the holy sacraments more rather than less for the sake of Him who established them upon earth, and to respect the priesthood, even though it might in its members show itself unworthy, because it was a thing given by Christ for the edification of the body, and because He Himself, the High Priest passed into the heavens, must needs have His subordinate priests working with Him and by Him on earth.
Again and again had longings such as these filled his soul, and he had implored leave to go forth preaching and teaching. But he had never won permission to do this. The request had been treated with contempt, and he himself had been suspected of ambition and other unworthy motives. He had submitted to the will of his superiors, as his vow of obedience obliged him to do; but none the less did his heart burn within him as he saw more and more plainly how men were thirsting for living waters, and realized with ever-increasing intensity of pain and certainty that if the Church herself would not give her children to drink out of pure fountains, they would not be hindered from drinking of poisoned springs, and thus draw down upon themselves all manner of evils and diseases.
He had never doubted for a moment the pureness of the source from which he himself drank. He was not blind to the imperfections many and great of individuals in high places, and the corruptions which had crept within the pale of the Church, but these appeared to him incidental and capable of amendment. He never guessed at any deeper poison at work far below, tainting the very waters at their source. He was in all essential points an orthodox son of Rome; but he had imbibed much of the spirit of the Oxford Reformers, of whom Colet was at this time the foremost, and his more enlightened outlook seemed to the blind and bigoted of his own order to savour something dangerously of heresy.
He did not know himself seriously suspected. His conscience was too clear, his devotion to the Church too pure, to permit of his easily fearing unworthy suspicions. He knew himself no favourite with the stately but self-indulgent Prior of Chadwater; knew that Brother Fabian, whom he had once sternly rebuked for an act of open sin, was his bitter enemy. But he had not greatly heeded this, strong in his own innocence, and he had been far happier at Chad in the more truly pure atmosphere of that secular house than in the so-called sanctity of the cloister.
And now he found his own thoughts, aspirations, and yearnings repeated in the mind of his favourite pupil, and he was confronted by a problem more difficult to solve than any that had met him before. In his own case he felt he had a compass to steer by--the restraint and guidance of his vows and his habit to help him. But how would it be with this ardent and imaginative boy? His mind was struggling to free itself from artificial trammels. To what goal might not that wish lead?
Earnestly he looked upon the bowed form at his feet, and in his eyes there was a great compassion. But his lips pronounced, with sternness and decision, the words of the heavy penance imposed, and at the end of the prescribed formulas he raised the boy and looked searchingly into his face.
"My son," he said, very gently yet very impressively, "remember that the first sin that entered into the world was the sin of disobedience. Remember that Satan's most powerful weapon is the one which he employed towards our first mother when he bid her eat of the tree of knowledge, because that knowledge is good--a God-given thing--when he persuaded her that God was wrong in keeping anything hidden from her that in itself was good. The same sin by which death entered the world has abounded there ever since. God and the Son of God and the Church have always taught that there be certain things hidden, only to be revealed to man by God or through the ordinances of the Church, not to be sought after through curiosity by unlettered men themselves. Yet for as much as Satan is never at rest, and can transform himself on occasion into an angel of light, he is ever present with men urging them on to pry into these hidden mysteries and to make light of the ordinances of God. He puts into their mouth words similar to those by which he tempted the woman to her fall, and men listen greedily as our first mother did, and are led into destruction when they think they are walking forth into the light of day.
"My son, beware of this sin; beware of this temptation. Remember the many solemn warnings against disobedience contained in the Word of God; remember how obedience is insisted on throughout that holy volume. Thou mayest not always see the reason--thou mayest not always recognize the authority; but remember that there is a blessing upon those who obey, and be not in haste to break the bond under which thou wast born, remembering who has placed thee where thou art, and who has bidden us give all dutiful obedience to the powers that be."
Edred made a deep reverence, crossed himself silently in token of submission, and prostrated himself upon the step of the altar, to lie there fasting till set of sun as one part of his penance. With a murmured prayer and blessing the monk left him, hoping that he had spoken a word of seasonable warning to one whose heart was enkindled with ardent devotion, whilst his active mind and vivid imagination were in danger of leading him into perilous paths.
No questions were asked of Edred respecting this penance, which took him away from his ordinary occupations during the chief part of the two following days. He and Brother Emmanuel alone knew the reason for it, and it was against the traditions of the house that any open notice should be taken by others.
The episode of the peddler and the outbreak with the followers of Mortimer had begun to fade somewhat from the minds of those at Chad. No complaint had reached that house from Mortimer's Keep, as had been expected, and it was hoped that the thing would never be heard of again.
Yet it was with something of a sinking heart that Sir Oliver heard the third day that the Prior of Chadwater desired speech of him; and as he mounted his horse and summoned his servants about him, he wondered, not without considerable uneasiness, what this summons might mean.
He had always been on good terms with the handsome prior of the Benedictine monastery. The choicest of the game, the fattest of the bucks slain in the forest, the chiefest specimens of his wife's culinary triumphs, always found their way to the prior's table, and an excellent understanding had always been maintained between the two houses. But the knight had observed of late that the prior had become more slack in those visits of friendly courtesy which once had been common enough between them; and when he had presented himself at the monastery, he had not been quite certain that his welcome was as cordial as heretofore. It was not until latterly that this had caused him any uneasiness--it had taken him some while to feel sure that it was anything but his own fantasy; but he had just begun to feel that something was amiss, and now this summons seemed to him to have an evil import.
However, there was nothing for it but to go; and a clear conscience keeps a man bold even in face of greater peril than was likely to assail him now. He thought it probable that some rumour of the stir on the fair day had reached the ecclesiastic, and that he wanted an account of it in detail. Sir Oliver was quite prepared to give him that, and entered the presence of the prior with a bold front and an air of cordial courtesy such as he was wont to wear in the presence of this dignitary.
There was nothing alarming in the prior's manner. He received his guest graciously, bid him be seated in the best chair reserved for the use of guests, and asked him of the welfare of his household with benevolence and friendly interest. But after all that had been said, his face took another look, and he brought up the subject of the travelling peddler or preacher, and asked the knight what his sons meant by standing champions to a notable and pernicious Lollard heretic.
The knight started at the words, and disclaimed any such knowledge both on behalf of himself and his sons. He told the tale as Bertram and Julian had told it him; and there was such sincerity in his manner, and his character both for orthodoxy and for scrupulous truthfulness in word and deed was so widely known and respected, that the prior's brow unbent somewhat, and he looked less stern and severe.
"I believe your story, Sir Knight," he said. "I believe that your sons sinned in ignorance. But none the less is it true that they have stood champions for a pestilent heretic; and that is an offence not likely to escape the vengeful notice of the Lord of Mortimer, who is always on the lookout for a cause of complaint against person or persons at Chad."
"That is very true," replied Sir Oliver, thoughtfully and gravely. "I was greatly vexed when I heard of the affair, and chided my boys for their hot-headed rashness. Howbeit there be many there to testify that the man was at that time but hawking his wares, and my sons could not know that he was a secret heretic and Lollard."
"Nay, but when that cry was raised they should not have stood at his side as his champions without more knowledge of the truth. The man is now known to have been preaching well nigh the whole day long, reading portions of those accursed translations of Wycliffe's which are damnation to all who possess them or listen to them, and expounding thereupon in the fashion that sends persons raving mad with the poison of heresy. The man is in hiding somewhere in the woods about; but he will soon be caught and handed over to the secular power to be doomed to death. And I like not the story of your sons' part in all this; it hath an ugly look."
Sir Oliver hid his anxiety beneath a cloak of dignified submission. He well knew the best way of putting things straight with the prior.
"I greatly grieve over the hotheadedness of the lads, but I will gladly make such amends as lies in my power. They sinned in ignorance, as you, reverend father, believe, and for such sins the indulgence of the Church may be won by the payment of such sum as shall be thought right. If you will tell me what I ought to give to purchase this indulgence, I will do my utmost to meet the just claim; and Holy Church shall be richer and not poorer for the trespass unwittingly made by the sons of Chad."
The prior looked pleased at this ready suggestion, and named a sum which, though sufficiently heavy, was within Sir Oliver's means, and which he promised should be immediately paid. He knew that the prior, though a man fond of money, and somewhat greedy in gaining possession of all he could, was not treacherous or unjust; and that if he had accepted this sum as the price of the pardon of the boys' escapade, he would stand their friend, and not allow them to be persecuted by Mortimer for the same offence, should the matter ever be brought up against them again.
Indeed, now that the arrangement had been so amicably entered into, Sir Oliver was rather glad that the subject had been broached. The prior was the most powerful man in the county, and to have him for a friend was everything. It was his game to hold the balance very nicely betwixt the owners of Mortimer and Chad, keeping his neutral position, and not permitting either party to overstep the limits beyond a certain extent. After what had just passed, he felt assured that the prior would not permit his boys to be harried or accused of countenancing heresy by their enemy, and he was well pleased at the interview and its result.
He rose now as if to go, but the prior motioned him to resume his seat.
"There is yet another matter upon which I would speak to you," he said. "You have beneath your roof one of our younger brethren, Brother Emmanuel. How have you found him comport himself since he has been free from the restraints of the cloister?"
The knight looked surprised at the question.
"He is in all ways a very godly and saintly youth," he replied. "He instructs my sons after an excellent fashion, keeps the hours of the Church with a scrupulous precision I have never seen equalled, and instructs all who come to him for advice or assistance in a manner that makes him beloved of all. Whenever I have talked with him or gone to him for spiritual counsel, I have been greatly struck by his spiritual insight, his purity of thought, his earnestness of mind, and his knowledge of the Holy Scriptures."
The prior shifted a little in his seat, and coughed behind his hand somewhat dubiously.
"He was ever prone to observe the hours well. He lived blamelessly here in all outward observances; but as for his knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, it may be that it goes something too far. It is whispered abroad that some of his words savour strongly of those very Lollard heresies which are about to be put down with fire and sword. Hast thou heard and seen naught of that?"
A thrill of indignation ran through Sir Oliver's frame. It was only by an effort that he restrained a hasty exclamation. He well knew that the wave of enlightened feeling rising within the Church herself had found no echo in the remoter parts of the kingdom, where bigotry and darkness and intolerance still reigned supreme. He was perfectly aware that the most enlightened sons of the Church who had dared to bid the people study the Word of God, and especially to study it as a whole, would have been denounced as heretics had they lifted up their voices in many parts of the kingdom. This very enlightened understanding, which was so marked a feature in Brother Emmanuel, had been one of the strongest bonds between him and his patron, and it seemed little short of monstrous to the knight to hear such an accusation brought against one who had lived a godly and blameless life, had observed far more rigorously all the laws of the Church than the prior or the fraternity thought of doing, and was a far truer and better son than they ever attempted to be.
But he restrained his indignation, and only answered very calmly:
"I have seen naught of it; indeed, I have seen so much to the contrary, that methinks it is but an idle tale, not worth your reverence's attention. In every matter, word or deed, Brother Emmanuel is faithful to his vows and to his calling. He is an able instructor of youth; and were your reverence to examine him as strictly as possible, I do not believe that any cause of offence, however trivial, could be found against him."
"I am well pleased to hear such good testimony," returned the prior, who was regarding his visitor with a scrutiny not altogether agreeable to the knight. "At the same time, it is not always well for a monk to remain too long away from the cloister, and a change of instructor is ofttimes better for the young. I have been thinking that it might be well to recall Brother Emmanuel, and send in his place Brother Fabian, in whom I repose the greatest confidence. How would such a change meet your good pleasure? If Brother Emmanuel is in need of penance, it can better be imposed here than elsewhere--and by all I hear it seems to me that he stands something in need of the discipline of the monastery; and Brother Fabian would make an excellent substitute as an instructor for the lads."
Whilst the prior was speaking, thought had been rapid with Sir Oliver, and something in the prior's look--a subtlety and almost cruelty about the lines of the mouth--warned him that there was in this proposition that which boded evil to someone.
It flashed across him that Brother Emmanuel was perhaps to be made a victim of ecclesiastical tyranny and cruelty. He knew that the ascetic young monk had been no favourite with his brethren at Chadwater; and if they could bring against him some charge of heresy, however trifling, it was like enough that he might be silently done to death, as others of his calling had been for less fearful offences. Monastic buildings held their dark secrets, as the world was just beginning to know; and only a short while back he had heard a whisper that it was not wise for a monk to be too strict in his hours and in his living. Then again, Brother Fabian was a coarse, illiterate man, utterly unfit to be the guide and instructor of youth. Sir Oliver had not dined at the prior's table and spent hours in his company for nothing, and he knew many of the monks tolerably well. Brother Fabian was the one he liked the least; indeed he had a strong dislike and distrust of the man, and was well aware that the ecclesiastical habit was the only thing about him that savoured of sanctity or the monastic life. He would not have allowed the contaminating presence of such a man near his sons, even had he been indued with the needful learning for the task of instructor. As it was, he knew that the monk could barely spell through his breviary, and it was plain that the prior must have another reason for wishing to induct him into the house.
Nor was the reason difficult to divine. It was not as an instructor but as a spy that Brother Fabian was to come. The whispers abroad--doubtless spread industriously by his vengeful foe--had not been without effect, and men had begun to suspect that his household was tainted with heresy. Brother Emmanuel was suspected, his sons were probably suspected as being his pupils, and possibly some other members of his household too. Brother Fabian was to be sent to act as spy, and if bribed (as was most probable) by the Lord of Mortimer, would doubtless find some cause of offence which could be twisted into an accusation of heresy against someone there.