The King's Daughters Page 5

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  IN DIFFICULTIES.

  Cissy Johnson was not old enough to understand all the reasons why herfather distrusted the priest; but she knew well that "Father didn't likehim," and like the dutiful little girl she was, she was resolved not tomake a friend of any one whom her father disliked, for she knew that hemight have good reasons which she could not understand. But Cissy hadbeen taught to be civil to everybody, and respectful to her betters--lessons of which a little more would not hurt some folks in the presentday. People make a great mistake who think that you cannot both berespectful to others and independent for yourself. The Bible teaches usto do both. Being in this state of mind, Cissy was decidedly pleased tosee her father coming up from the other end of the lane.

  "Oh, here's Father!" she said to Rose; and little Will ran on joyfullyto meet him.

  "Well, my lad!" was Johnson's greeting to his boy. "So thou and Cissyhave got back? It's a right long way for such as thou."

  Little Will suddenly remembered that he was exceedingly tired, and saidso.

  "Thou'd better go to bed," said her father, as they came up with thegirls. "Well, Cis, who hast thou picked up?--I'm right thankful toyou," he added, looking at Rose, "for giving my little maid a helpinghand. It's a long way for such little ones, all the way from the Heath,and a heavy load for little arms, and I'm main thankful. Will you comein a bit and rest you?" he said to Rose.

  But Rose declined, for she knew her mother would expect her to come backat once. She kissed Cissy, and told her, whenever she had a load tocarry either way, to be sure she looked in at the Blue Bell, when Rosewould help her if she possibly could: and giving the jar to Johnson, shebade him good-night, and turned back up the lane. Sir Thomas had walkedon, as Rose supposed: at any rate, he was not to be seen. She wentnearly a mile without seeing any one, until Margaret Thurston's cottagecame in sight. As Rose began to go a little more slowly, she heardfootsteps behind her, and the next minute she was joined--to hersurprise--by the priest.

  "My daughter," he said, in a soft, kind voice, "I think thou art RoseAllen?"

  Rose dropped a courtesy, and said she was.

  "I have been wishful to speak with some of thy father's household," saidSir Thomas, in the same gentle way: "so that I am fain to meet theeforth this even. Tell me, my child, is there illness in the house orno?"

  Rose breathed quickly: she guessed pretty well what was coming.

  "No, Father," she answered; "we are all in good health, God be thankedfor that same."

  "Truly. I am glad to hear thee so speak, my daughter, and in especialthat thou rememberest to thank God. But wherefore, then, being in goodhealth, have ye not come to give thanks to God in His own house, theseeight Sundays past? Ye have been regular aforetime, since ye were backfrom the Bishop's Court. Surely it is not true--I do hope and trust itis not true, that ye be slipping yet again into your past evil ways ofill opinions and presumptuous sin?"

  The reason why the Mounts had not been to church was because theservices were such as they could no longer join in. Queen Mary hadbrought back the Popish mass, and all the images which King Edward haddone away with; so that to go to church was not to worship God but toworship idols. And so terrible was the persecution Mary had allowed tobe set up, that the penalty for refusing to do this was to be burnt todeath for what she called heresy.

  It was a terrible position for a young girl in which Rose Allen stoodthat night. This man not only held her life in his hands, but alsothose of her mother and her step-father. If he chose to inform againstthem, the end of it might be death by fire. For one moment Rose wassilent, during which she cried silently but most earnestly to God forwisdom and courage--wisdom to keep her from saying what might bring theminto needless danger, and courage to stand true and firm to God and Histruth.

  "Might I be so bold as to pray you, Father," she said at last, "to askat my mother the cause of such absence from mass? You wot I am but ayoung maid, and under direction of mine elders."

  Sir Thomas Tye smiled to himself. He thought Rose a very cautious,prudent girl, who did not want to bring herself into trouble.

  "So be it, my daughter," said he in the same gentle way. "Doubtless itwas by direction of thine elders that then wert absent aforetime, ere yewere had up to the Bishop."

  He meant it as a question, by which he hoped to entangle poor Rose. Shewas wise enough not to answer, but to let it pass as if he were merelygiving his own opinion, about which she did not wish to say anything.

  "Crafty girl!" thought Sir Thomas. Then he said aloud,--"The festivalof our Lady cometh on apace: ye will surely have some little present forour blessed Lady?"

  The Virgin Mary was then called "Our Lady."

  "We be but poor folks," said Rose. "Truly, I know ye be poor folks,"was the priest's reply. "Yet even poor folks do oft contrive topleasure their friends by some little present. And if ye might bring nomore than an handful of daisies from the field, yet is our Lady sogracious that she will deign to accept even so small an offering. Yeneed not be empty-handed."

  "I trust we shall do our duty," said poor Rose, in great perplexity."Father, I cry you mercy if I stay me here, for I would fain speak withthe woman of this cot."

  "So do, my daughter," was the soft reply, "and I will call here belike,for I do desire to speak with Thurston." Poor Rose was at her wit'send. Her little manoeuvre had not succeeded as she hoped. She wantedto be rid of the unwelcome company of the priest; and now it seemed asif, by calling on Margaret Thurston instead of going straight home, shewould only get more of it. However, she must do it now. She hadnothing particular to say to Margaret, whom she had already seen thatday, though her mother had said after Margaret was gone, that she wishedshe had told her something, and Rose meant to use this remark asfurnishing an excuse.

  She tapped, lifted the latch, and went in, the priest following.

  John Thurston sat by the fire cutting clothes-pegs; Margaret was ironingclothes. Thurston rose when he saw the priest, and both received himreverently.

  Feeling that her best chance of escaping the priest was to proceedimmediately, Rose drew Margaret aside, and told her what her mother hadsaid; but Margaret, who was rather fond of talking, had something to saytoo, and the precious minutes slid by. Meanwhile the priest andThurston went on with their conversation: and at last Rose, saying shereally could not stay any longer, bade them good-bye, and went out. Butjust as Margaret was opening the door to let her out, Sir Thomas said afew words in reply to Thurston, which Rose could not but overhear.

  "Oh, Master Clere is a worthy man enough. If he hath gone somewhatastray in times past, that shall now be amended. Mistress Cicely, too,is an honest woman that wist how to do her duty. All shall be wellthere. I trust, John Thurston, that thou shalt show thyself as wise andwell ruled as he."

  Rose heard no more. She passed out into the night, and ran nearly allthe way home.

  "Why, Rose, how breathless art thou, maid!" said the other when she camein.

  "Well I may, Mother!" cried Rose. "There is evil ahead for us, and thatnot a little. Father Tye overtook me as I came back, and would know ofme why we had not been to mass these eight Sundays; and I staved himoff, and prayed him to ask of you. And, Mother, he saith Master Clerethe draper, though he have gone somewhat astray, is now returned to hisduty, and you wot what that meaneth. And I am feared for us, and Bessytoo."

  "The good Lord have mercy on us!" said Alice Mount.

  "Amen!" responded William Mount gravely. "But it had best be such mercyas He will, Alice, not such as we would. On one matter I am resolved--Iwill sign no more submissions. I fear we have done it once too often."

  "O Father, I'm so fain to hear you say it!" cried Rose.

  "Art thou so, daughter?" he answered a little sadly. "Have a care thyquick tongue bring thee not into more trouble than need be. Child, torefuse that submission may mean a fiery death. And we may not--we mustnot--shrink from facing death for Him who passed thr
ough death for us.Lord, grant us Thy grace to stand true!"

  And William Mount stood up with uncovered head, and looked up, as we alldo instinctively when we speak to Him who dwelleth in the heavens.

  "Who hath abolished death!" was the soft response of Alice.