[BRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CAL IFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA 
 
 BY 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR 
 
 AUTHOR OF " JAN VEDDER's WIFE," " A DAUGHTER OF FIFE," " THE BOW 
 
 OF ORANGE RIBBON," " THE BORDER SHEPHERDESS," 
 
 " THB HOUSEHOLD OF MCNEIL," ETC 
 
 "Breathe on us for the passing day 
 The charm of ancient story." 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1889-90, 
 BY THE CENTURY Co. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 PS 
 
 TO 
 
 STfje S0netg of Jrimtog fn 
 
 I INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME. 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR. 
 1890 
 

 
 CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud 
 Not of war only, but detractions rude, 
 Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 
 To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, 
 
 And on the neck of Fortune proud 
 
 Hast rear'd God's trophies, and his work persued, 
 While Darvven stream with blood of Scots imbrued 
 And Dunbar field resound thy praises loud, 
 
 And Worcester's laureate wreath. Yet much remains 
 To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories 
 No less renowned than War : new foes arise 
 
 Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains : 
 Help us to save free conscience from the paw 
 Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw : 
 Cromwell our chief of men ! 
 
 JOHN MILTON.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY 'I 
 
 II. BLAME THYSELF 17 
 
 III. "THE WAY TO REST" 37 
 
 IV. JOHN DE BURG 61 
 
 V. ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA 79 
 
 VI. SORROW HATH MANY FEET 99 
 
 VII. DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE 117 
 
 VIII. THE KING'S SERVANTS 138 
 
 IX. THE BARON AND ANASTASIA 159 
 
 X. A MEETING 188 
 
 XI. OLIVIA AND CROMWELL 207 
 
 XII. ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE 234 
 
 XIII. OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED . . . 251 
 
 XIV. JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE .... 272 
 XV. IN APPLEBY JAIL 294 
 
 XVI. MISTRESS OF CHENAGE 311 
 
 XVII. PARTING . 337 
 
 XVIII. JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE 371 
 
 XIX. ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE 392 
 
 XX. FOR LOVE'S SAKE 415 
 
 XXI. KELDERBY AND SANDYS ....... 435
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY. 
 
 w Though God as one that is an householder 
 Called these to labour in his vineyard first, 
 Before the husk of darkness was well burst ; 
 
 though the worst 
 
 Burthen of heat was theirs, and the dry thirst ; 
 Though God has since found none such as these were 
 To do their work like them : because of this, 
 Stand ye not idle in the market-place." 
 
 WHEN Oliver Cromwell held the sceptre of Eng 
 land, Odinel Kelder was baron of Kelderby and 
 Swaffham. He was not ignorant of the ancestors who 
 had mingled his clay and tempered the spirit within him. 
 For seven hundred years he knew their names and their 
 deeds. The farthest away of whom he had knowledge 
 he spoke of as " my fore-elder Jahl," and owned the pe 
 culiar blessings of his lot to be the result of Jahl's nobility 
 of nature and of his adventurous spirit. 
 
 For Jahl Kelder had been one of that earliest band 
 of pilgrims who, to escape the tyranny of Harald Haar- 
 fager, sought liberty of mind and person among the eter 
 nal snows of Iceland. A few years later Jahl joined 
 his friend Toddi, or Dodd, in that southward search for 
 a fairer home which resulted in their settlement on the 
 shores of Cumberland and in the dales of Westmore-
 
 2 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 land. Toddi found the Whitehaven, and bought from 
 the monks of St. Bees the great woods and lonely dak s 
 stretching back to Ennerdale. Jahl reached the solitary 
 seaward stretches of Silverdale, the very region of mystic 
 forgetfulness, with its rounded hills and wooded wastes, 
 and its great expanse of ribbed and wrinkled sand-flats, 
 a dim, misty sea, where the flood glides up to the land 
 swift and treacherous, or, beaten by conflicting winds, 
 is white with phantom foam and vexed with spray and 
 spindrift. 
 
 Behind him was a waste of sullen moss and craggy 
 mounds, unfruitful solitudes so bare and desolate that 
 he called them Hardanger, the old Norse name for a 
 place of hunger and poverty. But Jahl asked little of the 
 land ; he looked to the sea. It raced round its numer 
 ous promontories, and lay sleeping in its bays ; and he 
 saw the gray wings of his ships peopling the pallid waste. 
 They were his hands ; they would reach him the good 
 things that were not within his grasp. He built his big 
 stone hall on the height of Silver Scar ; and the lonely 
 land, and the misty waves bowling in and out of the fog, 
 became dear to him. 
 
 Once his friend Toddi sailed southward to keep a 
 feast with him, and he said, " Jahl thou art not wise to 
 build so high ; every wind of heaven will smite thee." 
 
 But Jahl answered, " This is what I think, Toddi, 
 the birds that build on the ground make very poor 
 nests." 
 
 Jahl built for his generations. They sat in his place, 
 and trod in his footsteps, and kept his memory green. 
 They married into the great Saxon families of Swaffham 
 and Millom, and twice the Norman De Burgs added the 
 quicksilver of their race to the life stream of the Scandi 
 navian stock ; and as one or the other of the race dis-
 
 THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY. 3 
 
 tinctions predominated, so was the Kelder of his day. 
 In the course of seven centuries the original stone hall 
 had become a fine seat. Not that all the Kelders had 
 been wise life-tenants of it, but that the potency of the 
 Saxon element had been frequent enough to repair losses 
 and accumulate capital. So that at the beginning of the 
 seventeenth century the Kelders were one of the great 
 families of the North Country. 
 
 Odinel, the nineteenth of his name, differed widely 
 from his ancestor Jahl ; but the differences were mainly 
 in the inner man. Outwardly he had the great Norse 
 frame, the lofty stature, and the blond complexion of his 
 northern kin. His mother had been a De Burg, but he 
 owed nothing to her, except the high-bred nose and the 
 haughty upper lip of the Norman race. He had a large 
 compact forehead, eyes like tempered steel, shining with 
 a steady gleam, a square chin, a firm mouth, and a man 
 ner at once benignant and austere, the manner of a 
 true liegeman of Duty, kind, faithful, and intrepid. If he . 
 clasped hands it was with a flesh-and-blood warmth of 
 grip ; if he smiled, it was with the large, clear sincerity 
 of a man without guile. He had the heartiness of the 
 Norse nature, the breadth of the Norse imagination, and 
 the refreshing atmosphere of one who lived in the open 
 air, who went alone into the heart of the mists and into 
 the silence of the starry sky, who knew the visionary 
 majesties of the mountains, and the pale, pensive glooms 
 of the valleys, and who loved the flavour of the brine and 
 the damp fresh air of the northern ocean. 
 
 He was sixty years of age, and he had played the man 
 in Israel on every battlefield for liberty from long Mars- 
 ton Moor to Worcester. Life had been a stirring story 
 to him. He was sitting one evening very quietly on his 
 hearthstone talking it over with the man within him.
 
 4 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 This mighty / was truth itself. It told him plainly that 
 at Marston he might have been more merciful ; that at 
 Dunbar, in that great strait between the sea and the 
 Lammermuirs, he might have been more trustful; that 
 in the red streets of Worcester he might have been more 
 just. And he was humbled amid his valiant memories, 
 silently appealing from the accuser to Him who had made 
 the atonement. 
 
 The tall black chair in which he sat had been the 
 baron's own for generations. One foot was on its foot 
 stool, the other pressed down the soft white wool of the 
 hearthrug ; his left hand lay upon the basket hilt of his 
 long rapier, his right hand shaded his eyes, his fine head 
 drooped slightly forward. But though silent and motion 
 less, he was not alone. On the opposite side of the rug 
 Lady Kelder was spinning flax. The little black wheel, 
 richly carved and tipped with silver, was at her knee, and 
 between it and the snowy flax her white hands made 
 monotonously graceful movements. She wore a dress of 
 black silk with a lawn kerchief pinned across her breast, 
 and a black-silk hood lined with white fell slightly back 
 ward from her white hair. A handsome woman, of an 
 unchanging countenance, compact and conscious, who 
 knew what she meant and what she wanted and in what 
 she believed. 
 
 But though she spoke not she glanced frequently 
 toward her husband ; and presently he caught her glance, 
 and a loving smile flashed echo-like from face to face. 
 Then she said, 
 
 " Nathaniel stays away so much longer than was spoken 
 of. What think you, dear heart? " 
 
 " I think, Joan, that he will have business to be his 
 excuse. Between here and London are many hard 
 miles."
 
 THE K ELDERS OF KELDERBY, 5 
 
 " And also he may come by Kendal. Our cousin De 
 Burg has a very fair daughter. I have heard that 
 Anastasia has bettered all expectations of her beauty; 
 she may be reason enough to stay even a wise man." 
 
 " Anastasia has Charles Stuart in all her thoughts. A 
 Puritan gentleman is her mock, and nothing else. What 
 agreement can there be between her and our son? " 
 
 " In troth and peace love has no politics. Any side 
 will suit him." 
 
 " Nathaniel's politics are the complexion of his creed. 
 Joan, think not evil of your son." 
 
 " As for creeds, he may take to one you think not of. 
 There is a beaten path now between Kelderby and San 
 dys, and Mistress Prid " 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux is a Quakeress. Dear Joan, keep 
 a rein on your thoughts. Nathaniel will give you a bet- 
 terly sort of daughter than that." 
 
 " I have the fear in my heart day and night, a fear 
 unfaceable. There are things I would never submit to ; 
 that is one of them. A Quakeress in Kelderby 1 God 
 forbid ! " 
 
 " Calmly, Joan. T is said they have spiritual gifts." 
 
 " What is the Protector doing to suffer them ? I would 
 he were more faithful to the truth." 
 
 " A Quaker may privately enjoy his conscience, in both 
 opinion and practice ; sure that is but reason. As for 
 Nathaniel, I think he is such a man as will take his own 
 way if it sorts with his faith and duty." 
 
 He rose as he spoke, and began to walk slowly about 
 the long low room, for the housekeeper, Jael, and a serv 
 ing-man had entered; and the woman put aside Lady 
 Kelder's spinning, and the man began to lay the table for 
 the evening meal. Jael was a noticeable woman fifty 
 years old, fresh and sturdy, the right hand of her mistress
 
 6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 in all domestic concerns, the loyal friend of the Kelders, 
 bound so willingly by the kindly traditions of many gen 
 erations. She pushed the logs together "and added fresh 
 ones, and then straightening herself watched for a mo 
 ment the arrangement of the fine pewter service upon 
 the table. This being satisfactory, she turned so as to 
 face her mistress and said, 
 
 " My Lady, Susan of Lambrigg and Jock the second 
 shepherd want to marry ; it puts me about a bit." 
 
 " It is a fit marriage, I think, Jael." 
 
 " True, my Lady, but not a fit time, with the spring 
 cleaning to do in Kelderby, and the sheep casting their 
 lambs on every fellside. It is n't reasonable. But what 
 signifies talking? You can't think what a couple of fools 
 they be. They stand to wedding through thick and 
 thin." 
 
 "Then wedding it will have to be. Dear me, Jael, 
 how girls will run into trouble! Is it raining?" 
 
 " Dreeping wet, and very airy ; the wind being nor'ard 
 and weet'ard. You can hear the billow-bluster at the foot 
 of the Scar." 
 
 " Your young master is somewhere on the road between 
 here and London. I pray God he come to no ill." 
 
 " 111 keeps its own road, my Lady, and my young mas 
 ter is never found on it. He '11 be here anon. Perhaps," 
 and she stooped to move the logs as she spoke, 
 "perhaps he is safe at Sandys." 
 
 "Jael!" 
 
 " Yes, my Lady ; facts will be." 
 
 " Facts give way to stronger facts. See that all the 
 men and maids come in to prayers. Some have made a 
 breach in the good custom lately. I will have them 
 all in." 
 
 " Speak to them yourself, my Lady ; it will be a long
 
 THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY. / 
 
 way better. They have been backening badly in every 
 right thing lately. I am often hard set to manage 
 them." 
 
 At this moment supper was served, and Jael threw a 
 lamb's-wool shawl around her lady's shoulders and placed 
 her seat at the table. 
 
 In the midst of the meal she saw a sudden change on 
 the face of the serving-man. The loutish chaos of his 
 countenance coloured into life, and a gleam, of pleasure 
 brightened his pale eyes. He had heard a footstep that 
 no one else had heard, and the pasty in his hand was 
 only saved from a fall by his mistress's look of sharp in 
 quiry. Before a word could be said the door opened 
 with a swift, noiseless movement, and Captain Nathaniel 
 Kelder entered. 
 
 No one could have been more welcome ; but there was 
 a calm gravity in his manner which repressed any extrav 
 agant demonstration of feeling. Lady Kelder, however, 
 had a kiss and a whispered word of tenderness whicn 
 brought tears of joy to her eyes, and the baron such a 
 grasp and glance as interprets the greeting of kindred 
 souls. Then the meal was finished to that hurry of gen 
 eral conversation which usually follows an arrival; it 
 flitted here and there, to persons and things and events, 
 but touched none of the real subjects of interest until 
 prayers were over and the servants dismissed with the 
 usual blessing, 
 
 '' God be with you, each and all ! " 
 
 " And with you and yours, Master." 
 
 The head man lingered a few minutes to render his ac 
 count and to receive orders for the following day, and 
 during this interval Lady Kelder looked with a fond spec 
 ulation at her son. She thought of his cousin Anastasia 
 de Burg, and of lovely Mistress Prideaux, and wondered
 
 8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 if he really was in love with either. She never doubted 
 but both were in love with Nathaniel. If this opinion 
 wanted any confirmation in her mind, she found it in 
 stantly in the beauty of the young man, leaning with 
 unstudied grace against the high chimney-piece of black 
 oak. 
 
 It has long been the false and silly fashion to ridicule 
 the Puritan garb; it is now full time to acknowledge 
 that Puritan gentlemen were dressed gracefully and pict 
 uresquely and in the most perfect sobriety of good taste. 
 They thought that dark or black garments were fittest for 
 grave and earnest men. We are now all of the same 
 opinion. They thought laces, perfumes, and jewelry 
 marks of vanity and foppishness. Every true gentleman 
 in Christendom now thinks with them. They thought it 
 more rational to cut their hair a comfortable length than 
 to wear it in womanish curls down the back. What sen 
 sible man of to-day will contradict them ? High Church 
 men who still delight to nickname them " Roundheads " 
 make a point of cutting their own hair much closer. Yes, 
 even in the matter of dress, the Puritan was wise and 
 brave beyond his time. 
 
 Nathaniel Kelder could have chosen no dress more 
 becoming, even if dress had been a- subject about which 
 he was troubled. His jack-boots covered his knees; 
 his breeches were of black leather dressed until it was 
 as soft as velvet ; his dark doublet showed undersleeves 
 of white linen ; and round his neck was a scarf of fine 
 lawn broidered at the edge with a band of needlework, 
 done by his mother's fingers. He was very tall, and had 
 a bright, spiritual face set in soft brown hair, a face so 
 fine that it gave the impression of being formed of some 
 rarer thing than flesh and blood. A smile made it lumi 
 nous. His gray eyes were large and dreamy, the down-
 
 THE KELDERS Of KELDERBY. 9 
 
 ward sweep of the eyebrows toward the lashes of the 
 eyes when they were raised indicating not only a tender 
 heart, but a disposition to melancholy. A mouth of great 
 refinement, candid and loyal, softened the threat of his 
 resolute chin ; and he had an air of distinction which was 
 not consequent alone to the condition of his good birth, 
 but was partly the result of acquired self-restraint. 
 Nathaniel Kelder had the mastery over his spiritual man. 
 He could cross his will without a mutiny. 
 
 It was a relief to the family when the door was closed 
 upon them and they could speak freely together ; for ser 
 vants if more faithful in those days were not less curious, 
 and Master Nathaniel's journey to London had been a 
 matter of speculation among them. 
 
 "There be a woman in it," the head man said among 
 his fellows ; " there be a woman in it. I met De Burg's 
 man in Kendal market, and I dilly-dallied an hour with 
 him, talking of Mistress De Burg and what gentlemen 
 were her servants now ; but at the long end, what signi 
 fied ? He let no light into things. I could make nought 
 of him, back nor edge." 
 
 " You had much to do to name young master with 
 Mistress De Burg, a proud-souled madam that is hey- 
 go-mad for the Stuarts and their kind." 
 
 " There 's no need to be put about, Jael. It breaks 
 no squares to say that whether Stuart or Cromwell be 
 master, we be servants ; and I do think that young 
 master have been in London about the De Burgs. 
 It '11 turn out so, you '11 see it will." 
 
 Primitive natures who trust to their natural instincts 
 are rarely mistaken. Nathaniel Kelder had been to 
 London in the interest of the De Burgs. For although 
 the friendship between the families had been broken 
 by political differences, the tie of kinship was of stronger
 
 IO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 stuff; and when De Burg was threatened by the law, 
 and his lands in danger of confiscation, Kelder had 
 voluntarily offered himself as his cousin's security. 
 
 "What success, Nathaniel?" he asked. 
 
 " Better than was to be hoped for, Father. I had 
 two interviews with the Lord Protector, and at the first 
 moment he remembered you. He said, ' Kelder's word 
 is bond for a dukedom ; ' and then he asked how you 
 fared, and anon he turned to his desk and wrote some 
 what concerning the business ; afterward he bid me 
 dine that night at the palace." 
 
 "What think you of him now?" 
 
 " What I ever have thought. There is no man in 
 England to stand beside him. The glance of his eyes 
 pierced me like a spear. While I was present an 
 officer entered with a report concerning the plot of 
 the Fifth Monarchy Men. His anger was great ; but 
 he shut close his mouth, and I saw he was reining 
 up by a strong effort the prancing passions within 
 him." 
 
 Kelder was much moved by this information. In his 
 own heart was a strong leaning toward these fervent 
 visionary watchers for the visible coming of Christ the 
 King and the reign of the saints on earth. Unknown 
 to any soul he had cherished the same longing. There 
 was a high hill behind Kelderby, and many a morning 
 he had climbed it, and looking toward the east, watched 
 for the glory of the Second Advent. He was sorry that 
 those who watched with him should take up carnal 
 weapons and make divisions, and could hardly believe 
 it until Nathaniel said, 
 
 "This officer brought with him the standard which 
 they had prepared, a fine one truly. 'T was folded 
 close; but Cromwell, with a strange power, shook it
 
 THE K ELDERS OF KELDERBY. II 
 
 open. So I saw that it was a lion couchant, and the 
 motto written, ' Who shall rouse him up ? ' I would 
 you had seen the Lord Protector as he stood holding 
 the standard. His face was like a battle-cry; but oh, 
 the sadness in his eyes ! I shall never forget it." 
 
 " Sure 't is a wonder so great a man should think 
 of dining; but I '11 warrant he kept his dinner-hour, 
 plots and standards and all to them ! And pray what 
 palace honours he now?" 
 
 " He is at Hampton Court, Mother." 
 
 " Those Cromwells at Hampton Court ! Sure 't is a 
 sight to make one think. Elizabeth Cromwell in the 
 seat of the queen ! I marvel not if she forget whence 
 she came." 
 
 " Dear heart, let the women alone. Oliver holds the 
 sceptre of England by right divine, and Mistress Crom 
 well is a godly consort to him." 
 
 " He has long wanted the king's place ; he has got 
 ten it then, it seems." 
 
 " The place wanted him. I, and many of my judg 
 ment, know that England is pleased and well content 
 that he should be there." 
 
 " Not all content, as these Fifth Monarchy Men 
 show." 
 
 " Such out of a godly jealousy misunderstand him. 
 In time he will make his work clear." 
 
 "But herein others are of a like dissatisfied mind," 
 said Nathaniel. " Many Christians of good quality com 
 plain of the spiritual bondage in which he leaves them. 
 A deputation of tne people called Quakers was waiting 
 at Hampton Court. I saw not its manner of reception, 
 but they also say that ' Cromwell understands them 
 not ; ' nor are they wiser concerning his way of dealing 
 with them."
 
 12 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " 'T is most likely," interrupted Lady Kelder, scorn 
 fully. " They are a silly set, so full of themselves that 
 they have no room for the grace of God. Quakers, 
 forsooth ! God give us patience when we speak of them ! 
 And as for the Lord Protector being beyond their wis 
 dom, 't is most likely. A do.vn day for General Crom 
 well when he can fold himself to their size ! If you will 
 tell me shortly what is to be done with your cousins 
 De Burg, I will leave you to discuss the Cromwells. I 
 find them not so pleasant a subject for my sleeping 
 thoughts." 
 
 "De Burg has permission to remain within his do 
 mains. He is not to go beyond them." 
 
 " God knows he will cross seas whenever he has mat 
 ter to carry the king. I mean Charles Stuart." 
 
 " He is to give his word not to cross seas." 
 
 " His tenfold oath would not bind him." 
 
 "Then you must know that my father is surety for 
 his word. If it cannot be depended upon, we stand to 
 lose ten thousand pounds forfeit." 
 
 " Baron, you have done a wicked thing. Why should 
 you endanger your own estate to save De Burg's ? Con 
 ceive how merry a business it will be for him to cheat 
 and mock his Puritan cousin ! I say, it was ill done 
 to pledge your land." 
 
 " Dear Joan, I pledged my word. I will pillar my 
 word with my land. Is my land worth more than my 
 word? I trow not." 
 
 "De Burg called you traitor, and in the beginning 
 of this fight he did you many an ill turn. The Lord 
 of Hosts has given our side the victory ; 't is an open 
 insult to his mercy to make friends with your foes." 
 
 " De Burg was my cousin before he was mine enemy. 
 My mother was his mother's sister."
 
 THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY. 1-3 
 
 "David says " 
 
 "Joan, I go not back to Sinai. He that came out 
 of Nazareth said, Love your enemies ; do good to them 
 that do ill to you." 
 
 Then there was a little silence. Lady Kelder was 
 trembling with anger. A verse of Scripture may bring 
 a wise decision in a question of right or wrong ; but 
 it oftener comes like a sword than as a peacemaker. 
 So though it was impossible for her at the moment to 
 dispute so plain an order, she felt that there were ways 
 of meeting it, and she held these in reserve. 
 
 Then Nathaniel leaned forward and took her hand, 
 and his bright face drove away the gathering shadows 
 on her brow. " We had a poor dinner," he said. " If 
 I had been curious about my food, I should have wished 
 myself at your table, dear mother." 
 
 " Mistress Cromwell knows neither how to cook nor 
 how to let cooking alone. 'T is a strange ordering 
 which puts her in royal rooms and royal dress ; but 
 many heads have learned to lift themselves not before 
 used to it." 
 
 " She is very quiet, and her dress not so brave nor 
 so becoming as your own. A black velvet she wore, but 
 shabby; and the lawn broidery poor and darned, and 
 wanting that spotless purity which is better in my eyes 
 than broidered bands." 
 
 " I have heard that Mistress Cromwell was not too 
 neat, a bad fault in a woman ; and the Lord Pro 
 tector was but a sloven ere the days of wearing steel 
 corselets and of sceptre holding." 
 
 " As for the room, there were some fine tapestry 
 hangings, and window curtains of scarlet baize, and a 
 couch covered with fly-coloured damask. And the Lord 
 Protector had an elbow chair, and there were backed
 
 14 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 stools for the rest of the company. But the long black 
 table compares not with the carved oak table and chairs 
 of this room ; and the andirons were neither so heavy 
 nor so bright as these ; " and Nathaniel, as he laid a 
 fresh log across them, lightly touched the brass hearlh 
 furnishings which were his mother's pride. So the brass 
 andirons and the carved oak furniture, though but dumb 
 comforters, softened the first stinging sense of the bar 
 on's improvident translation of the great Nazarene's 
 command. 
 
 In the morning it was decided to inform De Burg 
 as early as possible of the mercy shown him, espe 
 cially as it was necessary to be explicit concerning 
 the restraints and obligations upon which it was to 
 be continued. " 'T is only kind to ride over to 
 Kendal at once, Nathaniel," said the baron. " Sus 
 pense is ill company, and De Burg must be an anxious 
 man." 
 
 " 'T is you, Odinel, that should be the anxious man," 
 said Lady Kelder. " De Burg counts the years of 
 Cromwell's life, and assures himself that with Cromwell 
 dies the Commonwealth. His estate is now loaded with 
 debt. The king returning will cancel all claims. King 
 or Cromwell, he need not fret himself very much. And 
 why go not you yourself? 'T is but right he should 
 take the favour from your hands, and the orders which 
 bind it; right also that he should give you thanks for 
 your kindness. I think not of his promises. I trow he 
 will keep none that sort not with his interest and his 
 inclination." 
 
 " De Burg hates an obligation, especially from me. 
 Why force him to say words he means not ? I have the 
 approval I want already." 
 
 " Consider your own unreason, Baron. You will keep
 
 THE KELDERS OF KELDERBY. 15 
 
 De Burg out of the temptation to say false words, and 
 you will send your own son into snares laid by the flesh 
 and the Devil hard for any man to resist." 
 
 Nathaniel smiled. " Vainly is the net spread in the 
 sight of any bird, Mother. My cousin Anastasia is 
 known to me. I acknowledge her beauty, but I feel 
 it not." 
 
 " Nathaniel, the self-confident fall before they know 
 that they are in danger. Anastasia suffers no man to 
 escape her witcheries." 
 
 " I have seen her frequently; I am not bewitched." 
 
 " The pitcher goes often to the well, and gets broken 
 at last." 
 
 " Anastasia will not break my heart, dear mother. I 
 can watch all her wiles, and slip away from them." 
 
 " From afar things appear so easy to do. But if you 
 are determined to try experiments with yourself, Na 
 thaniel, at least do it with deliberate question and 
 answer." 
 
 Then the horses were brought to the door, and 
 Nathaniel kissed his mother's hand and mounted. His 
 father was to ride part of the way with him, and the two 
 men went slowly together across the moor and up the 
 hill. A couple of lurchers flashed like gray snakes 
 through the bracken around them ; and the colts came 
 whinnying, with staring eyes and streaming manes, to 
 watch and wonder at the splendid thrall of their bridled 
 kind. Indifferent to all such matters, they went calmly 
 forward, talking not so much of the business with 
 De Burg as of the Lord's great dealings by General 
 Cromwell. 
 
 And afar off Lady Kelder watched them winding 
 round the fells. " I wish this day's work bring not mis 
 fortune and ruin," she whispered, and her heart sighed
 
 1 6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 as she passed inside the door with that still, drawling 
 step too often prelusive of sorrow. She was a brave 
 woman by nature, and yet she tainted the sweet spring 
 air with whispers of apprehension. Oh, how difficult it 
 is to speak good -omened words !
 
 II. 
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 
 
 " O woman, woman, woman ! All the gods 
 Have not such power of doing good to men 
 As you of doing harm." 
 
 " A generous fierceness dwells with innocence, 
 And conscious virtue is allowed some pride." 
 
 Who will pity a charmer that is bitten with a serpent, or any such as 
 come nigh wild beasts? . . . An enemy speaketh sweetly with his lips, but 
 in his heart he imagineth how to throw tliee into a pit : he will weep with 
 his eyes, but if he find opportunity he will not be satisfied with blood. 
 ECCLESIASTICUS xii. 13-16. 
 
 "VTATHANIEL entered Kendal early in the afternoon. 
 *^ It was then a very aristocratic town, full of fine 
 houses built of the mountain limestone. The ripple of 
 the swift running Kent, the pleasant stir of the fresh 
 wind in the poplars, the jubilant notes of the church 
 bells, all these sounds but deepened the silence and 
 peace of the proud and beautiful city. It seemed to be 
 a proper home for gentlemen and gentlewomen who 
 lived at their ease and who had given their own air of 
 serenity and spotlessness to the place. 
 
 In Stricklandgate Nathaniel met the great beauty 
 Mary Bellingham. She was riding a superb Barbary 
 mare, walking it slowly up the wide street, pleasantly 
 conscious of her own loitering and of the creature's im 
 patience at it. It lifted high its dainty feet and let them 
 fall with distinct yet rebellious efforts to realize its rider's 
 
 2
 
 1 8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 dreamy mood. Nathaniel passed her bareheaded, and 
 the royalist beauty vouchsafed him the shadow of a cold 
 smile. In the thoughtless days of childhood she had 
 once chosen Nathaniel for her valentine. What heart 
 burnings, what loss of life and love lay between that hour 
 and the present ! Ere he reached De Burg Hall many 
 sad thoughts had followed that glimpse of the lovely face 
 of his boyish sweetheart. 
 
 De Burg was an old ecclesiastical house, and was built 
 as such houses were apt to be in the snug shelter of a 
 rich valley. High hills surrounded it, but the long, low 
 building of gray stone spread itself among green meadows 
 and under the shade of ancient sycamores. It had been 
 granted to the De Burgs at the time of the great spolia 
 tion in the reign of Henry VIII., and hitherto they had 
 gripped tight to it. 
 
 Even in this crisis of his family, Stephen de Burg did 
 not worry himself greatly as to his possessions. He had 
 a firm belief in the downfall of Cromwell ; a firm con 
 viction that the science of government was impossible to 
 the mechanical classes. A few years, more or less, and 
 the king would come to his own and be received gladly 
 by them. A Puritan confiscation might be troublesome, 
 an imprisonment in the Tower even more so, but at any 
 rate they would be claims upon King Charles which he 
 would abundantly pay. 
 
 Such ideas made him tolerably comfortable until the 
 Puritan hand was upon his estate and the Puritan threat 
 of imprisonment in his ear. Then he had found his 
 kinsman Kelder to be sufficient for his necessity. He 
 had, however, no gratitude for this gracious interference 
 in his fate ; for De Burg not only loved to go a motive 
 hunting, but he also deliberately hunted for the very worst 
 motive he could find.
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 19 
 
 " Cousin Kelder has become my bondsman ! Na 
 thaniel has gone to London to get the old brewer's as 
 surance of quit and safety ! What of that ? These 
 godly fellows have plenty of worldly wisdom. Never 
 trust me if Kelder sees not that the king must soon come 
 back. Then he will expect De Burg to protect Kel- 
 derby and Swaffham. Will I? I never pretended to 
 wisdom, but I should be the perfectest fool if I paid such 
 back debts." And De Burg laughed with harsh amuse 
 ment at the thought. " As for Nat Kelder, I '11 swear he 
 has been in love with Asia since he was as high as my 
 top-boots; and he thinks ' t would be 'a. comfortable dis 
 pensation ' to add De Burg to Kelderby and Swaffham. 
 Fair and softly, my young cousin. ' T will be a miracle 
 if you compass it. Here he comes, with all the assurance 
 imaginable. Lord, how I hate such complaisance ! " 
 
 For to this mental criticism De Burg had been watch 
 ing the approach of Nathaniel. He turned with the 
 last exclamation and went to the gate to meet him. 
 More anxious than he would admit, Nathaniel's prom- 
 iseful face lifted an unacknowledged weight off his heart. 
 He could not help reciprocating the smile of his visitor 
 as he held out his hand, and said almost merrily, 
 
 " Well, sir, are you come to turn me out of house and 
 home? Am I to visit Tower Hill? Is my head wanted 
 for Westminster or Temple Bar? " 
 
 " I come with no such unhandsome news, Cousin. Your 
 undoing is in your own hands, and in none other. In 
 your house and within your boundaries and your native 
 town you are as much lord as ever. Only cross not seas 
 or hold communication with' Charles Stuart ; if you do, 
 it will be at your life's peril." 
 
 " Faith ! I would as lief hold life from Beelzebub as 
 from Oliver. A pretty topsy-turvy world when an old
 
 2O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 fen farmer and brewer says ' thus and so ' to English 
 nobles ! " 
 
 " You offend uselessly, Cousin. I dispute not that it 
 is a large bill on your patience ; but it must be dis 
 charged, or worse consequences ; and for my father's 
 sake sure you will carry yourself wisely." 
 
 " I will carry myself as suits myself. Fear not ; I will 
 make shift to endure it." 
 
 " Let me tell you soberly " 
 
 " Nay, then, I swear I will have no sober talk from 
 you. All your wisdom won't mend my humour. I am 
 fallen out with the whole world to-day ; but I am mightily 
 obliged to my cousin Kelder, and for his sake and 
 yours also I shall think better of a Puritan as long as 
 I live. I pray you go in and refresh yourself. You 
 will find Asia in the garden with two of her present ser 
 vants ; and we will meet at table for further discourse." 
 
 Nathaniel had in his mind a plan far more to his lik 
 ing, but he did not care to provoke disputings about it. 
 De Burg was bound for the hills. In their silent places 
 he could safely swear out his passion at the world and 
 the ruling of it. He stimulated his anger with memories 
 of the days in which he had lounged about Whitehall and 
 Hampton Court and drank deeply of every cup of sinful 
 enchantment ; when he had swaggered and bullied with 
 all that mad crowd, and laughed himself into the belief 
 that the solid Saxons of the fen country were a handful 
 of clowns scarce worthy the swords of the courtly nobles. 
 
 He was a swarthy man, a little corpulent, fiery, credu 
 lous, and false, with the insolent manners which belong 
 to natures so vulgar that they cannot endure any one 
 above them, be it prince or God. There had been times 
 when he had hated the late king as heartily as he now 
 hated Cromwell, as heartily as he would hate any one
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 21 
 
 who could put a check upon the license of his will and 
 way. So it had been hard for him to assume any decent 
 amount of gratitude ; and Nathaniel, in spite of his lov 
 able disposition, felt that he could have borne a real in 
 jury easier than this neglect of a self-evident right. 
 
 When De Burg turned away from him, he entered the 
 house. A servant took him to a chamber, and he washed 
 his face and hands and put on a clean band, and then 
 refreshed himself with some cold roast beef and a measure 
 of ale. But it was not a satisfactory meal. The con 
 tinued absence of Anastasia deepened his feeling of re 
 sentment, especially as he heard at intervals the shrill 
 mockery of her laugh and the wilful vibrations of her 
 clear, resonant voice. 
 
 He ate with conscious deliberation. If his restless 
 disappointment arose from any remembrance of love for 
 his cousin, it was his duty to cross its demands. And 
 he did so with an over-exacting fidelity. The servants 
 wondered at his slow precision and his thoughtful dally 
 ing with a very ordinary dinner. He was really spec 
 ulating as to whether Anastasia knew of his presence ; he 
 was listening for her step, he was involuntarily watching 
 the door. Every time it moved he was expecting to see 
 the dark, piquant, provoking face of Asia de Burg. 
 
 But she came not ; and when his meal could be no 
 farther prolonged he walked with a slow indifference to 
 the door opening into the garden. Really the indiffer 
 ence was not altogether affected ; he had been telling 
 himself that to go to Anastasia was to go deliberately 
 into temptation, and he preferred the temptation to 
 come to him. Somehow the folly that takes us unawares 
 seems more excusable than the folly we premeditate. 
 But why suffer himself to be tried in either way? De 
 Burg had felt the commonest form of gratitude to be a
 
 22 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 trial. Anastasia had a pride equal to her father's. If 
 she did not wish to express her obligation, why should he 
 compel her to do so ? It was ungenerous. He might at 
 least try to emulate that noble not-caring of the Divine 
 heart which sendeth rain and sunshine alike on the 
 thankful and the unthankful. Thinking thus, he resolved 
 to leave De Burg at once. 
 
 But even while wisdom spoke to him, her words were 
 silenced by a clear, peremptory call. It filled the cham 
 bers of his ear and the chambers of his heart. He 
 blushed like a girl when she hears for the first time the 
 call of Love, and he answered it as promptly as if it had 
 been the Lord General's bugle on the battle-field. His 
 feet seemed to move without his option ; he stamped 
 them on the gravel to assure himself of his own will in 
 the matter, and as he went the same penetrating call 
 urged him again and yet again : 
 " Nathaniel ! Nathaniel ! Nathaniel ! " 
 
 There were three terraces and she was on the lowest 
 one, but the clear lingering syllables appeared to fill all 
 the space around him. He went rapidly from terrace to 
 terrace, taking the low broad steps he knew not how. 
 On the outermost edge of the lowest there was a fish 
 pond, surrounded by a wide margin of green turf bor 
 dered with sweetbrier, now full of its spring-tide scent. 
 The thyme's perfumed sprig and the delicious odours of 
 wall-flowers and auriculas seemed to make a part of the 
 voice. He could not separate sound and scent; nor 
 did he try. 
 
 In a moment or two he saw Anastasia standing on the 
 turf. She was playing battledore with two gentlemen, and 
 with face and arm uplifted was bending slightly forward 
 to catch the feathered toy. In the act she let the battle 
 dore drop to the ground, and turned toward Nathaniel.
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 2$ 
 
 Her face and throat and bosom were rosy with the exer 
 cise, her eyes glinting with mirth, her dark hair tossed 
 into a picturesque mass of curls falling so low as to cover 
 her shoulders, and even partly veil her bosom. Her dress 
 was of fawn-coloured satin adorned with a great number of 
 pink bows, and there were large pink rosettes upon the 
 insteps of her shoes, and long streamers of pink ribbon 
 upon the shepherdess hat, which she had flung upon the 
 grass. 
 
 She came to meet him, radiant, wearing all her en 
 chantments. The touch of her jewelled fingers, the scent 
 of her garments, the darting light from her eyes, the slight 
 pout of her beautiful lips, the caressing tones of her voice, 
 took him captive at once. Squire Chenage and Captain 
 Bellingham, with whom she had been playing, watched 
 with a dark scorn a meeting so little to their liking from 
 many points of view. Hating each other cordially, they 
 still more cordially agreed in their hatred of Captain Kel- 
 der. With marked hauteur they went to the side of the 
 pond and engaged in a meaningless conversation about 
 the size of the pike and the tench. Nathaniel heeded 
 not the movement ; he was scarcely conscious of their 
 presence until Anastasia dropped his hands and went to 
 give them a courteous dismission. 
 
 "My cousin Kelder," she said, "has been to London 
 on our affairs, and I am in the humour of being pleasant 
 to him. As 't is the greatest conquest I shall ever make 
 of my pride, you must give me leave to practise the new 
 \irtue." 
 
 Captain Bellingham took his discharge with good- 
 humoured raillery. Squire Chenage looked darkly at 
 Kelder, and avowed his intention of "playing the game 
 out with him." 
 
 " You had better not, Squire," answered Anastasia, with
 
 24 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 snapping eyes and emphasis. " He is swifter than you 
 dream of." 
 
 It was a trying situation for the two gallants, and they 
 did not bear themselves to advantage in it. Nathaniel's 
 beauty and air of confidence, and Anastasia's cool in 
 difference flustered and irritated them. It brought out 
 the bravo in Bellingham and the bully in the ruder 
 Squire ; and somehow their satin doublets and their 
 scented love-locks gave to their mien of real anger an 
 air of swagger and fanfaronade which was altogether 
 unjust. 
 
 Dimly conscious of this effect they hurried across the 
 terrace, swinging their feathered hats, and feeling in the 
 hot passion of the moment their ribboned points and 
 boots trimmed with ruffs of Flemish lace to be quite out 
 of keeping with the rude greeting they would have been 
 delighted to exchange with the young Puritan. Both of 
 them glanced at Nathaniel as they passed him. He 
 stood by one of the pillars which supported the lower 
 steps, and against the white limestone his tall dark figure 
 was a graceful and conspicuous object. Their glance met 
 an instant and courteous response. Nathaniel lifted the 
 high, plain hat which was such an offence to courtly taste, 
 and in so doing revealed more distinctly the strong yet 
 delicate beauty of his countenance and the close cluster 
 ing curls of his bright brown hair. 
 
 It is not necessary to record the few emphatic words 
 with which Chenage and Bellingham expressed their feel 
 ings ; those of Anastasia, though sweet and pleasant, had 
 a deeper malice, a more enduring and far-reaching un- 
 kindness. She stood at Nathaniel's side, the incarnation 
 of mocking beauty, watching the two young men out of 
 sight. It was not necessary for her to speak ; Nathaniel 
 understood the glint of her eyes, the almost unconscious
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 2$ 
 
 rhythm of her body, caricaturing the ungraceful walk of 
 the be-ribboned swains. 
 
 " I admire how these men dress like women," she said 
 at length. " Give me, Cousin, the privilege to ridicule 
 them a little. For my own liking I would that men ever 
 wore leather or steel. Chenage in his leather hunting- 
 suit is very much of a man, and Bellingham in his uniform 
 not so laughable as in purple and white satin. Upon my 
 word, Cousin," and she looked steadily in his face, " I find 
 you extremely handsome and extremely well dressed. 
 Come now, sit down, and you shall tell me how Mistress 
 Cromwell lives in the king's house. 'T is said she goes 
 into the palace kitchen, and is never so happy as when 
 among the pots and pans. People that pretend to know 
 say so." 
 
 Then Nathaniel spread his cloak upon the lowest step 
 of the flight, and they sat down together ; but he told her 
 first of the Protector's clemency, and explained the easy 
 terms upon which it was proposed to save the lands of 
 De Burg. He passed by as lightly as possible his own 
 and his father's share in the arrangement, and Anastasia 
 was not generous enough to acknowledge it. Still it was 
 easy to see that in spite of her affected recklessness she 
 had been exceedingly anxious as to the result of the visit 
 to London. 
 
 " It is simple salvation," she said. " I have been plan 
 ning a life for myself when I should be turned out of De 
 Burg." 
 
 " You would have come to Kelderby. The house is 
 big enough for six families. There are even rooms which 
 I have never seen open." 
 
 *' Haunted rooms, or my life for it. All the rooms in 
 De Burg are haunted. I have seen the ghosts many a 
 time and oft."
 
 26 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Asia ! " 
 
 " I '11 swear it. Old abbots and monks gliding about, 
 looking for the souls they have lost. But I should not 
 have gone to Kelderby. I should have gone to the king 
 at Paris. 'T is but a beggarly court he keeps there ; but 
 he hath a gay heart, and by all accounts there are merry 
 times. I can sing a song with any one. When women 
 can't work, they can sing. Heigh-ho ! 'T is a queer 
 world, dear Cousin." And she moved closer to him and 
 gently stroked his hand. 
 
 Every caressing movement made life in its innermost 
 room tremble with pleasure. He was speechless under 
 her charming. If he could have spoken he might have 
 broken her spell; but he sat passive, watching the rich 
 carnation of her cheeks and the sensitive play of her 
 tempting lips. 
 
 " Yes, I could have sung the king out of a dukedom ; 
 and though you sit dumb as an owl, I vow I will sing you 
 out of a chorus." She darted like a bird across the band 
 of turf and took from the margin of the pond a lute. 
 " Listen ! " she cried. Then a wild sylvan melody was 
 flung into the air, a melody that seemed to be made of 
 the glad rustling of trees and the gurgling of running 
 waters. Her voice lifted the tinkling notes higher. She 
 came forward slowly, singing as if her whole being was 
 nothing but a song, 
 
 " ' A North Country lass 
 Up to London did pass, 
 Although with her nature it did not agr>c ; 
 Which made her repent, 
 And so often lament, 
 Still wishing again in the North to be. 
 Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny <^ tree, 
 They flourish at home in the North C( tin-cry 1 ' 
 
 "Sing, Cousin,
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 2J 
 
 " ' Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree,' 
 
 " Sing, Cousin, sweet Cousin, sing, 
 
 " ' Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree, 
 They flourish at home in the North Country ! ' " 
 
 She was standing before him, her eyes were searching 
 his ; she stooped slightly forward, and the witchery of the 
 bright impassioned face was irresistible. His lips parted 
 at her next imperative glance, and, willing or unwilling, 
 without any conscious consent, he was mingling his voice 
 with hers, and telling all the flowers and birds around 
 them, 
 
 " Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree, 
 They flourish at home in the North Country 1 ' " 
 
 They sang the whole song through, and at every verse 
 they drew closer together. When she laid down the lute 
 her head was on Nathaniel's shoulder and his arm was 
 around her waist. She had sung her soul into her face. 
 It was gazing passionately from her eyes, it was beating 
 at the door of her lips. For a few moments speech was 
 the most impossible and the most unnecessary of things, 
 the significant language of music had said so much more 
 than common words would have ventured upon. That 
 Da Capo of the last two lines had broken down the flood 
 gates of feeling and let both hearts flow together.- 
 
 The silence which followed was to Nathaniel even 
 sweeter than the song. He did not venture to break it. 
 But in a few moments Anastasia wearied of the tension, 
 the light faded from her face, the enthusiasm of the strife 
 was over. She felt that she had conquered, and she made 
 haste to claim the spoils. 
 
 " Nathaniel ! " 
 
 " Asia ! I believe you have been playing upon my 
 heartstrings. I am in a trance of "
 
 2& FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " You are going to say ' I love you. 1 I swear you 
 shall not say such foolish words. I am weary of hearing 
 them." 
 
 "What then shall I say?" 
 
 " Say nothing. What will you do for me? " 
 
 " What is it you wish me to do ?" He spoke almost in 
 a whisper, and with a singular soul reluctance. 
 
 " Ah, me ! Help me about my brother John. If you 
 help me not, he and I are both undone." Her eyes were 
 brimming with tears ; she gazed pitifully into Nathaniel's 
 face, and then gave way to unrestrained weeping. 
 
 Nathaniel was shaken soul and body between his pity 
 for the woman and his indignation at the thing she had 
 asked him to do% From his earliest youth John de Burg 
 had been a reprobate. Hating the discipline of his 
 father's authority, he had fled to sea when but fourteen 
 years old and joined the Turkish pirates who at that time 
 ravaged the west coast of England. For the tyranny and 
 extravagance of King Charles had left all the forts and 
 castles of the west unguarded ; their villages were fre 
 quently plundered, and many Christian men and women 
 were captured and sold into a cruel and hopeless 
 captivity. 
 
 And John de Burg had led these infamous pirates to 
 the coasts of his own county. His boyish form had been 
 recognized in several attacks. 'T was even said that he had 
 lured four of his father's tenants to the ship, which had 
 carried them away. Such an apprenticeship to crime 
 had brought forth its natural results. He was now a man 
 of thirty-eight, and he had made his name a terror to all 
 merchant vessels ; for he attacked indifferently English 
 or foreign crafts, and the dollars and doubloons of Span 
 ish galleons, or the sugar and timber of Bristol and Col 
 chester ships, were alike his prizes. He had even taken
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 2$ 
 
 the spoils of the sea from the hardy fishers of Newfound 
 land. As for the sailors of the captured vessels, a miser 
 able choice of fates was given them, they could join 
 De Burg's fleet of pirates and slavers, or be sold into 
 slavery, or die. 
 
 King Charles, whose clemency could generally be 
 bought, had been compelled to pass sentence of out 
 lawry on De Burg; and Cromwell had sent a ship to 
 take him on the high seas, and hang him at the yard- 
 arm of his own vessel. It was evident, then, that he 
 had been badly pressed. Nothing but a feeling of des 
 peration could have driven him off the sea, and back 
 to a home in which he had not a friend but the half- 
 sister who had seen him only twice, and then by stealth. 
 
 Yet Anastasia had never felt so true sympathy for any 
 living creature as for this graceless brother. The tie 
 of blood, now so much weakened by the selfishness en 
 gendered by civilization, had then its primitive strength ; 
 and upon this basis she had built up a wonderful and 
 mysteriously romantic affection. For though she had 
 seen so little of her brother, he had not suffered her, 
 after their first stolen interview, to forget him. Strange 
 men had brought her at intervals presents from him 
 which she thoroughly appreciated, jewels and bro 
 cades and fine lace, curious boxes and scents, and not 
 infrequently little leather bags full of gold pieces. 
 
 And John de Burg really had for his sister a feeling 
 more akin to unselfish love than seemed possible in a 
 nature so perverted. In their clandestine and danger 
 ous interviews she had charmed him. He felt proud 
 of the fair girl who gave him her heart without inquiries 
 or stipulations, and who never reproached him with the 
 past or asked anything for the future. He had fre 
 quently taken great risks to send her tokens of his re-
 
 3O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 membrance; and when at last he found himself forced 
 to fly from his enemies instead of fighting them, he 
 had thrown himself without a doubt upon her love and 
 resources. 
 
 Hitherto she had defied suspicion by her very bold 
 ness. She had secreted him under his father's roof for 
 six weeks. Nor had she found it very difficult to do, 
 for she had ever ruled her household with careless pro 
 digality. There was in De Burg Hall none of that 
 methodical surveillance which was the custom and de 
 light of the ladies of that time. De Burg lived for 
 his outdoor sports, and was satisfied if the demands of 
 his appetite were met in a way which his taste approved. 
 His dining-room and his sleeping-room were the only 
 apartments in his house he visited, unless there was com 
 pany of sufficient degree or number to make it necessary 
 to open the guest parlours and chambers. But during 
 the last four years such occasions had been rare. The 
 king in exile drained his loyal nobles and gentry of 
 money ; they had little left for private entertainments. 
 
 As for Anastasia, she lived only for her own delight. 
 She ate delicately, and dressed beautifully, and read the 
 ponderous romances of the day, or amused herself with 
 the peculiarities of her lovers. She held the reins of the 
 household in a very slack hand, and the servants natu 
 rally took their lives as easily as possible. None of 
 them, at least, thought it necessary to clean rooms which 
 were not to be used ; and Anastasia was now thankful 
 to herself for her indifferent housekeeping. 
 
 John de Burg had therefore unmolested possession 
 of a chamber in the main wing ; and he kept the key, so 
 that it could not be carelessly entered from the outside. 
 It also communicated, by another empty room, with 
 a small corridor upon which Anastasia's own apartment
 
 BLAME THYSELF, 31 
 
 opened. At first she had found difficulty in procuring 
 a sufficiency of food ; but she soon hit upon the plan 
 of asking her lovers to eat with her, and then giving 
 them the credit for the plenteous meals which disap 
 peared from her table. And she made so many adroit 
 suggestions and such merry talk about their able appe 
 tites that no one for some time suspected her sincerity 
 in the matter. 
 
 But within the last week a strange, uneasy feeling had 
 been growing in the household. A personality cannot 
 be long unfelt ; and the personality of John de Burg was 
 too potent not to find out and penetrate the human 
 element surrounding it. De Burg was the first to be 
 come restless under this unseen influence. 
 
 " I '11 swear I heard a strange footstep last night, 
 Anastasia, on the chamber's floor." And he looked 
 at his daughter with a glance the deeper interrogatory 
 of which she perfectly understood. 
 
 But she met his suspicious inquiry with a mocking 
 raillery. 
 
 " None of my present servants have the spirit to ven 
 ture so far. I was reading ' Polexandre,' the wearifullest 
 of books, I think ; and I heard nothing but the rats and 
 the mice. I pray goodness they eat not up the velvet 
 and leather furniture." 
 
 " Then concern yourself a little about it." 
 
 " I have a month's mind to do so, if one only knew 
 what might come of Cousin Kelder's interference in our 
 affairs." 
 
 This conversation had occurred a week previously, 
 and since then first one servant and then another had 
 either by look or word shown a sense of something 
 unusual. They could not define, they could not local 
 ize, the influence ; but they felt its presence.
 
 32 FtfEND OLIVIA. 
 
 So then it had become evident to Anastasia that her 
 brother must remove ; and as soon as she saw Nathaniel 
 she fixed upon him as a proper person to rely on. 
 She remembered his passionate adoration of her in days 
 past ; she believed that she could yet move him to carry 
 out her will. -But between those days and the present 
 hour lay a lifetime of action and emotion. The youth 
 had become a man. When she played with his heart nine 
 years before, Nathaniel was but twenty-two, full of en 
 thusiasms and unbroken faiths. And Anastasia, then in 
 her sixteenth year, had still illusions left, and possible 
 longings after things lovely and lovable. 
 
 She forgot the stern school in which her young lover 
 had since been graduated. She had not seen him at 
 that burial which thrilled the stoutest hearts in Eng 
 land, when the Puritan hosts, marching bareheaded, laid 
 the great Hampden in the chancel of his parish church. 
 As they carried the hero to his grave, thousands of human 
 voices were uplifted together in the lofty melancholy 
 measures of the ninetieth Psalm : 
 
 " Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all 
 generations." 
 
 That psalm had been Nathaniel's consecration hymn. 
 To its pathetic imploration he had given his heart to 
 God and his sword for England's freedom. 
 
 But Anastasia could have no conception of such a 
 scene ; still less could she imagine that miraculous cove 
 nant between his soul and its Maker which made that 
 hour the most solemn of Nathaniel's life. For he had 
 been alone with God, though surrounded by an army; 
 and through the mighty human chorus, rising and rolling 
 like a flood until it was lost in the upper spaces and the 
 farthest horizons, he had heard the still small voice of 
 the Divinity.
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 33 
 
 Anastasia remembered only his youthful infatuation, 
 his eagerness to do for her any impossible thing. She 
 took no account of the fact that he had since known 
 all the fierce joy of battle-fields, where lofty enthusiasms 
 fought in very deed against principalities and powers 
 and spiritual wickedness in high places, and where piety, 
 exasperated to warlike vehemence, bound " kings with 
 chains, and their nobles with fetters of iron," and con 
 tended to the death for " the faith once delivered to the 
 saints." 
 
 The old Nathaniel was dead, and Anastasia knew not 
 the one she was trying to mould to her wishes with 
 blandishments and tears. He looked at her indeed with 
 a kind of pity, but also with shame and anger. Had 
 she come to him in grave and sorrowful womanhood, 
 acknowledging her brother's crimes, and pleading for 
 some space for his repentance, he could have respected 
 her claim, and perhaps persuaded his conscience to err 
 on mercy's side ; but it humiliated him to be sought 
 with fleshly enticements. Would he grieve the Holy 
 Spirit within him for a wanton love? Would he sell 
 his honour for a woman's kiss? He was in arms against 
 her beauty even while she laid her hand in his and 
 looked with bewitching entreaty into his eyes. Yet all 
 his senses trembled to her touch ; he knew that he could 
 hold no parley with the temptress. He rose, and stand 
 ing before her, asked; . 
 
 "What do you wish, Asia? Tell me plainly." 
 
 " For God's sake take John back to Kelderby with 
 you 1 You offered father and myself a home if if that 
 old knave in London had taken our own from ws. Well, 
 then, I have every reason to expect that you will give 
 John a single room, and find him bread and water till 
 his ship comes for him. He has had word that within 
 
 3
 
 34 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 ten days it would be by Barrow. Nathaniel, hide him 
 until he can get off to sea ; and then if you want a loving 
 heart, you will be sure to find it here." 
 
 " Do you know what you ask, Asia ? John de Burg 
 has been outlawed by both the king and the Comnon- 
 wealth. Herein you would make me the aider and 
 abetter of his crimes. Your father " 
 
 " My father would kill John on sight. You pretend 
 to religion ; have mercy, then. No one will suspect 
 you ; not even old Noll." 
 
 " It is beyond belief that I should use the honour 
 of my father's name to cover a villain. Nor will I so 
 far wrong the clemency of the Lord Protector. I have 
 indeed neither list nor leisure to meddle with John de 
 Burg; for he is a high-sea robber, a man-stealer, a 
 woman-stealer. He has committed more murders than 
 he -can remember." 
 
 " "T is the fashion of the time to steal and kill. John 
 is no worse than many who gain honour by the trade." 
 She spoke with a pointed emphasis that made Nathaniel 
 tingle. She put tears scornfully away, and looked with 
 a blazing but beautiful defiance at him. 
 
 " You must know that your brother lured into hope 
 less slavery three men who had been his playfellows, 
 betrayed them, like another Judas, with a kiss." 
 
 " Faith, they had once told lies on him. He owed 
 them a grudge, and he paid it. He did right ; and 
 you will be wise not to put yourself in like danger. 
 Oh, Nathaniel ! " and she rose and placed her hands 
 upon his shoulders, " dear Nathaniel, for my sake take 
 John with you." 
 
 Her lovely face was close to his ; he flushed and trem 
 bled, and felt an almost irresistible desire to kiss the sweet 
 pouting lips and fold the pleading woman to his heart.
 
 BLAME THYSELF. 35 
 
 A moment's hesitation would have made him her slave ; 
 but he did not hesitate. Though troubled and quivering 
 through all his being, he gently removed the small hands 
 which would have bound him, lifted his hat, and without 
 a word made her a parting salutation with it. 
 
 The high, uncompromising hat typified the man's de 
 termination. She looked at Nathaniel, and then gave up 
 the battle. He was ascending the steps of the terrace ; 
 she realized that she had totally failed. Then a storm of 
 anger and scorn overwhelmed her ; and as she could not 
 relieve herself in speech, she followed Nathaniel's slow but 
 determined steps with a railing song, 
 
 " A brewer may be a Parliament man, 
 For there the knavery first began, 
 And brew most cunning plots he can, 
 Which nobody can deny." 
 
 Nathaniel was but a few steps before her, but he neither 
 hurried his pace nor looked behind, though the mocking 
 words followed him with a shrill intensity, 
 
 " A brewer may be as bold as Hector, 
 Tipsy-bold with his own nectar, 
 A brewer may be a Lord Protector, 
 Which nobody can deny." 
 
 Nathaniel was as one who heard not. He turned from 
 the terrace into the courtyard with the saucy tones ring 
 ing in his ears, and was thankful to find his horse saddled 
 and ready to mount. 
 
 A great depression had fallen upon him. He galloped 
 furiously from the place ; he felt the stress of a man flee 
 ing for his life. His heart ached for the woman he had 
 just left ; and his conscience, that unseen judge, 
 accused, accused, and accused him. Of what folly and 
 self-sufficiency he had been guilty ! At that hour he un 
 derstood why David asked to be delivered from " pre-
 
 36 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 sumptuous sins." The Holy One had taught men to ask 
 " Lead us not into temptation ; " but Nathaniel knew that 
 he had defied and dallied with temptation, and if he had 
 escaped, it was as a bird from the snare of the fowler. 
 The fear of the struggle was still on him ; and though he 
 rode hard, conscience was never behind him. To al/ 
 his excuses it had the one inexorable answer, " Blame 
 thyself."
 
 III. 
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 
 
 " Christian saw the picture of a very grave person, and this was the 
 fashion of it : It had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in its hand, 
 the law of Truth was written upon its lips, the world was behind its back, 
 it stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over its 
 head." 
 
 " Gathered from many sects the Quaker brought 
 His old beliefs ; adjusting to the thought 
 That moved his soul the creed his fathers taught : 
 One faith alone, so broad that all mankind 
 Within themselves its secret witness find, 
 The soul's communion with the Eternal Mind ; 
 The Spirit's Law the Inward Rule and Guide." 
 
 "DEYOND Milnthorpe village Nathaniel came in sight 
 ^~* of the woods which encircled Sandys Hall. He 
 had been dimly conscious through all his spiritual turmoil 
 of the glory of the setting sun and the clouds floating and 
 burning in the west with the hue of a carmine-coloured 
 flame ; but when he passed through the park gates the 
 splendour had faded away, and the cumulus masses lay 
 dead and ghostly in the cold gray air. The silent, colour 
 less land SQpne added its pathos to his troubled mood ; 
 and some strange sympathy with it made him draw rein 
 and give his weary horse permission to walk soberly 
 through the wooded avenues. They were already misty 
 with the vapours from the mountains and the sea, and to 
 his excited mind were full of images as mysterious and 
 incoherent as the background of dreams.
 
 38 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 When he came within sight of the house he forgot him 
 self in the sad fate of its old possessors. For the last of 
 the family had fallen in the battle of Marston Moor, fight 
 ing for the king, and the estate had subsequently been 
 sold by the Puritan Parliament to Roger Prideaux, a 
 wealthy goldsmith of Paul's Walk, London. Roger was 
 a Westmoreland man ; and the hope of his heart, as he 
 saw his wealth increasing, had ever been to buy a home 
 in some sweet valley of his native county. The fact that 
 there was no heir to Sandys, and that he would not there 
 fore be dwelling in the rooms of any unfortunate living 
 man, decided him in the purchase of Sandys Hall. 
 
 He had shown a singular respect and even tenderness 
 toward its original holders. The portrait of the last. 
 Sandys still hung in its place over the hearthstone of the 
 great dining-hall. The furniture had been renovated and 
 not removed ; the ornaments and pictures, though many 
 of them objectionable to Puritan taste, were still in their 
 places. Sometimes he had thought of casting the latter 
 away; but the pictured faces had always pleaded for 
 themselves, and in the ornaments his daughter Olivia 
 found pleasure. And if Olivia saw no harm in the Indian 
 gold and silver work, the sandal-wood and ivory carvings, 
 surely there could be none ; for Olivia had a virgin con 
 science, pure as the snow and clear as the light. 
 
 Nathaniel remembered very well the young Lord San 
 dys. The night before he left the home which was to see 
 him no more forever, Nathaniel met him upon the road 
 which he had just traversed. Where in all the universe 
 of God was the young man now ? It was with this sol 
 emn thought in his heart that Nathaniel reached the door 
 of the house. Roger Prideaux met him there. He was 
 a spare man of medium height, with the shrewd face of a 
 successful tradesman. But his eyes were the eyes of a
 
 " THE WA Y TO REST." 39 
 
 mystic, wistful, speculative, so full of light that the 
 dropped eyelids were almost transparent. 
 
 " Nathaniel, thee is welcome. I have been thinking 
 prayerfully of thee all this afternoon." 
 
 " I confess that I needed it. I have been too blind to 
 go right, and too presumptuous to stand still. But I ob 
 serve that you have many lights, and the appearance of 
 company." 
 
 " We have Friends here this night whom thou hast 
 wished to know." 
 
 Then he led Nathaniel to a room on the ground floor 
 which he had often occupied, and a servant brought him 
 his saddle-bag. And he was not sorry to reflect that this 
 bag contained a handsome change of clothing ; for he no 
 ticed in crossing the hall that many people were passing 
 up the great staircase of polished oak, beautiful women 
 in shining satins, with their hands lightly resting on the 
 arms of their husbands or lovers. And he thought of the 
 excellently beautiful Olivia, and felt that the utmost nicety 
 of apparel was but the most obvious of duties if a man 
 ventured into her presence. 
 
 When he left his room Roger Prideaux was waiting 
 to offer him the sunset meal. " We have eaten already," 
 he said ; " but thou must have something to strengthen 
 the flesh, for it cannot feed at that table where the 
 spirit waits and is satisfied." 
 
 " To say truth, I am in a hungry humour, Roger, and 
 at this present the pullet and white wine are extremely 
 tempting." 
 
 "Thou hast been to London, I know." 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "And thou hast seen Oliver Cromwell?" 
 
 "Yes, I saw him." 
 
 thou sawcst a man who has had many secret
 
 4O FRIEND OLIVIA, 
 
 conflicts and baptisms, but who when the time of trial 
 came has not been able to stand to the unfoldings of 
 duty." 
 
 " I think surely that he has done great things for 
 England." 
 
 " If thou wouldst remember how many of God's peo 
 ple are buried alive in holes and dungeons : hearts 
 broken, homes desolate, men and women of whom the 
 world is not worthy suffering daily scourgings and op 
 pressions ! And he whom we have made Protector cares 
 for none of these things." 
 
 " Cromwell is beset on every hand. Give him time ; 
 he will right all these wrongs." 
 
 " But thou knowest in such grave matters the instant 
 time is the fittest time." 
 
 " I have seen this, Roger, that the Quakers are a sort 
 of men very impatient and unreasonable. They will 
 have their own way, even though it run against law and 
 custom and all men's liking for it. They preach peace, 
 but their lives provoke to a constant breach of the peace ; 
 and they stand so stiff in their own judgment that no 
 man can convince them otherwise." 
 
 " I am right glad of it. And if it please God, prisons 
 shall be schools for prophets and nurseries of strong 
 men in Christ Jesus." 
 
 " Three thousand Quakers are now in prison, Roger. 
 If they are indeed bearers of a true message, how can 
 they deliver it? Even the Word must fail, if it have 
 not way." 
 
 " The Word will run to and fro till it fill the earth. 
 Three thousand prisoners can do nothing ; but God and 
 three thousand prisoners can do all things." 
 
 " I doubt it not. But it seemeth to me that the way 
 of moderation is better than the way of martyrdom.
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 41 
 
 While I was in London a Quaker entered the Protector's 
 presence in Whitehall. He uncovered not his, head, 
 he used not the commonest civility, and he rated Oliver 
 as Elijah rated the wicked Ahab. My Lord Stanley told 
 me that the Protector was patient with him, and when 
 it came to Scripture routed him with his own weapon. 
 And when he saw that the Protector could give him 
 verse for verse he argued no longer, but he took from, 
 his pouch a linen cap, and tore it in two with a stern 
 passion, saying, 'Thus shall the Lord rend the kingdom 
 from thee and from thy family.' Men like not; to be 
 prophesied against ; and they judge Cromwell wide of 
 the mark who think he can be terrified into any course* 
 of action." 
 
 " Nathaniel, when thou hast the true wisdom thoii; 
 wilt speak more wisely." 
 
 Then the conversation turned to more personal mat 
 ters, and soon flagged a little ; for Nathaniel saw that 
 Roger Prideaux's heart was not with him. As they left 
 the room they passed a long panel-mirror, and the young 
 man glanced at his figure in it. His black doubkt and 
 white-laced band, his breeches with a black : ribbon at 
 the knees, his silk stockings, and low shoes fastened; 
 with silver latchets, set off in a noble fashion his, Sne 
 form and spiritual face. And there was an expression 
 about the lips which strengthened it pleasantly; for 
 Nathaniel judged rightly that he was to be brought 
 under the influence of Quaker doctrines, and he was 
 fully making up his mind to keep his own convictions 
 intact. 
 
 They crossed the main hall and ascended the stairs 
 to a large and lofty parlour on the next floor. It was 
 well filled ; and the company were mostly of Nathaniel's 
 own social class, known to him as men know one an-
 
 42 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 other who live within certain boundaries, and who meet 
 on market-days and on Sabbath-days with the same 
 motives. There was Squire Godlee, and Squire Salkeld, 
 and the young heir D'Acre with his two-months' bride, 
 and the Rev. John Duttred, the Independent minister, 
 and old Captain Zoltone, Edmond Heron, Gilbert Lam 
 pion, and Walter Grandale, all middle-aged soldiers, 
 with the scars of battle upon them. 
 
 Nathaniel saw all these as he entered, but only as 
 background to two other personalities. One was Olivia 
 Prideaux. She sat apart from the rest within the em 
 brasure of a projecting window. Her hands lay listlessly 
 in her lap ; she was doing nothing ; she was not even 
 listening. But there was a wonderful light on her calm 
 face, the faint bright smile of one who thinks much of 
 heaven and of all sweet, innocent things. For Olivia 
 Prideaux had those vehement longings after God which 
 spring up in young hearts. She delighted to go apart, 
 to close all avenues of sense, to retire into those unseen 
 depths of the spirit wherein lies the image of God; 
 because she had found, even in childhood, that part 
 of our finite nature which borders on the infinite, that 
 gate through which God enters in to dwell with man. 
 
 She did not perceive the approach of her father and 
 Nathaniel. After a moment's hesitation Roger Prideaux 
 passed her without a word, and Nathaniel felt con 
 strained to the same course. Then he looked at the 
 group toward which he was advancing, but mainly at 
 the man who sat in a large chair on one side of the 
 blazing fire. The majestic figure, the noble sweetness 
 of the face, the luxuriant hair, not cut short, Puritan 
 fashion, but falling upon the shoulders, with a slight 
 natural curl in it, the impressive manner in which 
 he was speaking, and the rapt attention of those who
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 43 
 
 listened to his words, made an instant impression upon 
 Nathaniel. 
 
 Duttred leaned against the high chimney-piece with 
 a disputatious aspect. D'Acre rested his hand upon 
 the back of his bride's chair, and his face reflected the 
 light on the speaker's. The rest of the men were in 
 different attitudes, but they were all standing. The 
 women had drawn their seats in a circle round the 
 hearth. Men and women alike were in Puritan dress. 
 Some, however, had discarded the lace wrist-falls and 
 neckbands, and wore their silk or velvet or broadcloth 
 without trimming of any kind, save the spotless lawn 
 kerchiefs covering the bosoms of the women and the 
 throats of the men. .^ 
 
 " George," said Roger Prideaux, when they reached 
 the side of the speaker, " this is my neighbour, Na 
 thaniel Kelder." 
 
 Then George Fox rose and took Nathaniel's hand, 
 and gazed at him with those piercing eyes which more 
 than one judge found themselves unable to bear. " I have 
 heard of thee, Nathaniel," he said ; " now I see thee, 
 and of the rest God will take care." As he spoke he 
 looked at Nathaniel and he loved him, and there came 
 into both men's faces that mysterious something which 
 is the recognition and salutation of souls. This incident 
 scarcely interrupted the conversation. Slowly relin 
 quishing Nathaniel's hand, Fox sat down and turned 
 his solemnly radiant face upon Duttred. 
 
 " Thee must not say that this doctrine of the indwell 
 ing Christ is a new one. Oh, no ! To it give all the 
 Scriptures witness. This is that divine change described 
 by Paul, when he exclaims, ' I live ; yet not I, but Christ 
 liveth in me.' This is that Divine union which Christ 
 willeth, ' I in them, and Thou in me, that they may be
 
 44 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 made perfect in one.' This is that glorious fellowship 
 promised : ' If a man love me, . . . my Father will love 
 him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode 
 with him.' Christ in us, the beauty of holiness, the hope 
 of glory, this is the keynote of the Gospel." 
 
 The wonderful magnetism of Fox's voice, charged 
 with faith, thrilling with love, broke into the stillness 
 of Olivia's soul. She moved like a spirit, and laying 
 one hand on the back of Fox's chair, said with an in 
 vincible conviction, 
 
 " We know that this testimony is true. You have 
 heard, Friends, how the bird halcyon has ordained for 
 it a week of wondrous calm when the year is at its wild 
 est and roughest. iThen upon the waves she builds her 
 nest. Christ within us ! In this hope the soul builds 
 for herself a marvellous covert, which not only floats 
 upon the waves of time, but charms them into stillness ; 
 so that in the very heart of storms our souls enjoy the 
 halcyon days." 
 
 She spoke in a rapture of peace. Her voice was 
 low and even, and had the softness and remoteness of 
 dreams. Her face was illumined from the light within. 
 Nathaniel's heart trembled with joy that was as pure as 
 it was indefinable. At that moment he thought nothing 
 of the girl's personal loveliness : it was her pure soul 
 that charmed his soul, and he longed to hold com 
 munion with it. 
 
 After a moment's pause Duttred said querulously, 
 "This is going too far. It gives to our vile bodies tOT 
 much honour." 
 
 "John Duttred," Fox answered, "who gave thee per 
 mission to speak spitefully of the body? It is easy to 
 call the body ' vile ' and then use it vilely. But we have 
 this treasure in earthen vessels, and our bodies are the
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 45 
 
 temples of the Holy Ghost ; and he that hath this hope 
 purifieth himself, and feareth to defile the sacred place. 
 We must go into the depths of our nature, John, for our 
 repugnance to give the body its due. Is it not sensu 
 ality? Men who would not wrong their souls by steal 
 ing, or by listening to a Pelagian tenet, eat and drink 
 and riot like pagans. But Christ redeemed the body 
 with his own body." 
 
 " Can the Spirit of God dwell with the spirit of 
 man?" 
 
 Duttred spoke with a scornful incredulity ; for though 
 religious and faithful to his convictions, he was full of 
 personal jealousy, and therefore unsympathetic. " This 
 is a strange doctrine, Mr. Fox." 
 
 " It would be a stranger one, John Duttred, if the 
 Creator, in whom ' we live, and move, and have our 
 being,' should not have direct access to the spirit of his 
 own creatures." 
 
 " There are no faculties of our mortal nature adapted 
 for such intercourse. The Church has no service or 
 provision for it." 
 
 " Such secret favours dispense with, rather than de 
 mand, mortal aid or service. Oh, John ! thee hast not 
 known the prayer of union, when the soul enters into 
 the sweet, solemn solitudes of the Divinity, and sees and 
 hears and feels unutterable things. In these preludiums 
 of heaven, these neighbourhoods of eternity, a mortal 
 man may have such glimpses of God that whether he 
 be in the body or out of the body he cannot tell." 
 
 " I enter into no controversy touching things too high 
 for me. No creed has taken knowledge of such a con 
 dition, no church provided for it. Even the Fifth Mon 
 archy Men, who pretend to understand Daniel and the 
 Revelation as well as the Ten Commandments and the
 
 46 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Lord's Prayer, fly not so high as this. The Church 
 around us is our best hope and protection." 
 
 " The Church around us ! Very well, John ; but also 
 Christ within us ! " 
 
 " If this doctrine be true, it is too much truth. Men 
 who hold it are self-hurters if they speak of it; and, 
 truly, I blame not the civil power for its controversy with 
 them. When men say that Christ is in them, it is all 
 one with saying that they themselves are Christ." 
 
 " Oh, no ! We are nothing ; Christ is all. And what 
 kind of controversy is martyrdom ? Doing men to death 
 is not arguing with them. Moreover, I deny the civil 
 power the right to touch a man's conscience. Con 
 science is placed out of sight ;. it is neither visible nor 
 tangible. It is inaccessible to stripes. It cannot be 
 bound in prison. While wicked magistrates are making 
 the body suffer, conscience enjoys the Divinity. How 
 then, John, can conscience be accountable to the civil 
 government? Men who try to control it are usurpers 
 of God's own right." 
 
 " Well, I know not what Quakers would have ; and I 
 wish they knew themselves. As for me, the old religion 
 is good enough." 
 
 " The old religion ! John, that is what Quakers want, 
 the religion of Christ, and of the Apostles, and of the 
 primitive church." 
 
 "The Church of Christ, which is the kingdom of 
 Christ " 
 
 " Is within us. Its real enemies are within. They are 
 spiritual, and must be fought with spiritual weapons." 
 
 " In a word then, how does a man attain to this 
 condition of union with the Unseen?" 
 
 " By faith ; for faith is the victory over whatever sepa 
 rates from God. Thou knowest what men have done
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 47 
 
 through faith, how they have 'subdued kingdoms, 
 wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the 
 mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped 
 the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, 
 waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the 
 aliens.' If faith can do these things, and more also, can 
 it not open the door of the soul when He knocks, and say, 
 ' Come in and dwell with me ? ' Can it not give Him the 
 whole heart, and enter into covenant with Him? I can 
 tell, for I have felt Him nearer to me than breathing. 
 He has beset me behind and before, and laid His hand 
 upon me." 
 
 Fox rose as he spoke, and an indescribable majesty 
 and authority clothed him as with a garment. His face 
 shone, his clear, sweet voice penetrated into the secret 
 places of every heart. The atmosphere of the room 
 trembled to spiritual influence, and a feeling of infinite 
 tenderness brooded over the small assembly. Duttred 
 stood silent, tears were in his downcast eyes ; and when 
 George Fox stepped forward and offered his hand he 
 took it with a troubled, questioning look. 
 
 " We are made poor by what we miss, as well as by 
 what we lose, John. Go into thy room and enter into 
 that spiritual communion which is beyond all visibles. 
 Open the door of thy heart and ask Christ to come in 
 and dwell with thee. Verily he will keep his promise." 
 And as Fox stood surety for his Maker he lifted up his 
 face, and it grew like an angel's ; and an old man on 
 the outskirt of the little assembly cried out, 
 
 " It is true ! It is true ! " 
 
 But Duttred said coldly, " My desire is to stand still 
 at present, so that the voice of the stranger be not taken 
 for the voice of the Shepherd. Yet I will not flatly con 
 tradict or condemn the words spoken, lest I come within
 
 48 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the apostle's reproof for speaking evil of things I under 
 stand not." Then looking steadily at Fox, he said, 
 " Pray for me, peradventure I am wrong, that I 
 may be led right." 
 
 " John, why ask any man to pray for thee ? Abide in 
 thyself, and take hold on thy own possession." 
 
 Then Duttred explained at some length his views of 
 the Atonement, and the necessity for a formulated creed 
 and a regularly trained ministry. But after Fox's burning 
 utterances his words were cold ; for he spoke of Christ 
 in a distant way, as of one holding the central place in a 
 theological system, but far off from daily love and life. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " answered Fox. "There is no such thing, 
 John, as a system of divinity in the Bible. Nothing 
 there but a living record of personal relations between 
 the Creator and the souls he has made. No dogma in 
 all the book. Only human life touched by the Spirit of 
 God ; and as for trained ministers, when God says to 
 a man, ' Preach the Gospel,' he needs no other prepara 
 tion or authority. Schools cannot make ministers, and 
 God dwells not in temples made with hands. ' I was no 
 prophet, neither was I a prophet's son ; but I was ... a 
 gatherer of sycamore fruit ; ' but the Lord raiseth the 
 poor out of the dust." 
 
 Then the conversation turned upon Cromwell and his 
 government ; and Fox vindicated Cromwell in many 
 things, and set lucidly before the assembly the difficult 
 part the Protector had to play between all the sects that 
 were then claiming recognition for themselves and per 
 secution for all others. 
 
 " In the high noon of these dog-days of our religious 
 discords," he said, " things are done and spoken which 
 will hardly bear reviewing when the cool of the evening 
 shall come. Between Thomas Edwards writing furiously
 
 " THE WA Y TO REST." 49 
 
 against liberty of conscience and toleration, and the 
 Presbyterian clergy complaining ' that men of civil em 
 ployment usurp the right of preaching, to the great scan 
 dal of the kirks,' and the Church of England men, and 
 the Fifth Monarchy Men with Rogers at their head, and 
 the Independents, and other sects too numerous to men 
 tion, what is the Protector to do? And I think well 
 of him for the plain words he gave the Presbyterians 
 concerning preaching." 
 
 " Doubtless they deserved them, whatever they were," 
 said Duttred ; " but I know them not." 
 
 " Truly, he answered their complaint with some 
 searching questions : ' Are you troubled that Christ is 
 preached? Is preaching so exclusively your function? 
 I thought the Covenant and the professors of it could 
 have been willing that any should speak good of the 
 name of Christ. If not, I say plainly that it is no cov 
 enant of God's approving, nor are these kirks so much 
 the spouse of Christ. I hope,' he farther said, 'that 
 He that ascended up on high may give His gifts to 
 whom He pleases ; and if those gifts be the seal of mis 
 sion, be not envious though Eldad and Medad prophesy.' 
 Are not these words like himself, strong, stiff, and 
 unbendable ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and John Milton likewise says that ' presbyter ' 
 is only ' priest ' writ large." And Duttred spoke with a 
 bitterness that made Fox look steadily at him. 
 
 " A good man is known by the company he keeps," 
 said Roger Prideaux ; " and what say you to Cromwell's? 
 His two secretaries are John Milton and Andrew Marvell ; 
 the seraphic John Howe is his chaplain ; he has put 
 Dr. Owen over the University of Oxford. And thou 
 knowest, George, that he listened gladly to thee, and 
 brought thee into his house, and desired to talk with 
 
 4
 
 JO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 thee again. And thou wilt allow that Friends have been 
 a little demanding with him." 
 
 " Not too much so, Roger. W T hen Friends are every 
 where robbed and beaten to the death, they have just 
 cause to go to the Protector for protection. However, 
 whether he speak for us or whether he forbear to speak, 
 we are saved by Divine alliance from any danger of 
 defeat." 
 
 The company then began to leave, for most of them 
 had some miles to ride over lonely and ill-kept roads. 
 Nathaniel was glad of the peace and quiet of his own 
 room, for the day had been full of emotion and not de 
 void of physical fatigue. Yet he was not inclined to 
 sleep. He threw some logs on the fire and sat down 
 before their blaze. For the first time he looked curi 
 ously at his chair, a large one of carved oak, covered 
 with Spanish leather. The gilding was worn, the leather 
 had lost its brightness and curious stampings. It showed 
 use, and he began to speculate about the men and 
 women who had sat in it. His eyes roved from the 
 chair to the great bed with its sombre tapestry curtains. 
 What fingers had worked the gigantic shadowy figures 
 that lurked among their folds? Here and there a sword 
 or a buckler in lighter silks gleamed out with a stubborn 
 distinctness which was almost uncanny. The inanimate 
 . furniture revealed in the midnight a sort of personality. 
 He could not but imagine the men and women who had 
 known the room before him, and who had gone away 
 forever. The empty chairs, the dim vast couch, the 
 little tapestry stool on the hearth, each and all had a 
 lonely, mournful look, as pathetic and distinctive as that 
 which hangs around a grave. He felt that the house 
 preserved, like a book, the memory of those who had 
 lived in it.
 
 u THE WAY TO REST." 51 
 
 Into this melancholy atmosphere there came suddenly 
 the memory of Anastasia, the mocking, brilliant face, 
 the scornful voice, the laughter which he could now feel 
 was but a thin veil for her anxiety. He lived ever those 
 moments of temptation, and his face burned, and he felt 
 an intolerable shame in his own weakness and cowardice. 
 He recalled the flight of his fearful soul up those ter 
 raced steps, and the heaviness of the body which so re 
 luctantly followed it. Then he began to speculate on 
 the assurance that " there is a spirit in man," and to 
 compare it with the opinion of the Platonists, " that in 
 all minds there is concealed a spark of the same wisdom 
 that exists in the Supreme Being," the inward light 
 of Quakerism; the light " which lighteth every man 
 that cometh into the world ; " the divine light higher 
 than knowledge, higher than grace, higher than love, 
 which is only satisfied with that unity where no man 
 dwelleth. 
 
 Hitherto he had lived on the outside of himself, in 
 his intellect and reason and senses. Now he let every 
 thing go, reasoning, willing, hoping, fearing, and lost 
 himself in a simple sense of this immediate God, so sel 
 dom sought, yet always so passionately longing to be 
 sought and to bless; lost himself until the experience 
 became more real to him than house or home or sun 
 or stars. He knew not how long he sat thus, but he 
 rose trembling and awed with the revelation of this 
 new capability of his nature. It brought him as yet no 
 exaltation, only a solemn, dreadful reverence, mingled 
 with an excessive physical chill and weariness. He lay 
 down and slept heavily, and did not awake in the morn 
 ing until the sun was high in the heavens. The house 
 was very still. He dressed and went into the dining- 
 room and found that the morning meal was long over,
 
 52 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and that Roger Prideaux had gone with George Fox 
 to Ulverstone. 
 
 A servant brought him bread and meat and wine, and 
 he ate and drank with an eager appetite. The food 
 refreshed him physically, and made him able to grasp 
 the spiritual blessing that had come to him, and to feel 
 its power and strength. 
 
 Then the bright sunshine, and the singing birds, and 
 all the pleasant sounds and scents of Nature spoke to 
 him, and he went into the garden to enjoy them the 
 better; also, he longed to see Olivia before leaving 
 Sandys, and he hoped to find her there. But the sweet 
 alleys of pleached beeches were all empty of human life. 
 The box and the privet hedges, and all the green pal 
 aces of the cherry-trees were full of twittering birds, but 
 in none of the pleasant garden-ways could he find the 
 fair woman he wished to see. 
 
 Presently, however, he heard the sound of voices be 
 yond the hedge, and he looked into the meadows and 
 saw her there. She had two of her maids with her, and 
 they were gathering flowers. In a few moments he 
 was by her side. Her apron was full of cowslips, and 
 she opened it and let him press his face to the dewy, 
 scented little blossoms. 
 
 " I am going to make them into wine, Nathaniel. 
 Hast thou ever tasted cowslip wine? It is like the dew 
 of spring. I think it hath the sunshine in it, and the 
 scent of daisies and buttercups. My father thinketh it 
 to be a good cordial. He went out early this morning, 
 he and Friend George Fox. George felt drawn toward 
 Ulverstone, and my father was clear to go with him." 
 
 They talked of many things as they went through the 
 long grass, but Nathaniel was like a man in a happy 
 dream. All his life after, he could recall the feeling of
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 53 
 
 the turf under his feet and the fresh wind blowing across 
 his face. He stopped to listen to her' innocent talk of 
 a robin's nest which she had seen, and the great bed 
 of violets under the oak tree, which she had not pulled, 
 because they looked so happy in its shadow. He could 
 find nothing to compare her to. He could pay her no 
 compliments. She was exquisitely lovely and graceful and 
 gracious, but he felt it to be impossible to tell her so. 
 
 When they came to the house they went into the large 
 room where Nathaniel had eaten. She took off her hood 
 and sat down with the flowers in her lap, and their deli 
 cate field-sweet perfume drifted between them. Then 
 she hid her hands in their golden freshness, and her face 
 caught a kind of glory from their colour. Nathaniel 
 thought her the loveliest flower of humanity that he had 
 ever seen. Usually it was an easy delight to talk with 
 her, but this morning she appeared inclined to stillness ; 
 and he even imagined that there was an expression 
 of fear or anxiety in her eyes when she lifted them 
 suddenly. 
 
 Once, as she did so, they rested on the likeness over 
 the chimney-piece. They had often spoken together 
 kindly of the dead lord, and Nathaniel felt impelled to 
 describe his speculations on the previous evening con 
 cerning the family. It was an age of firm belief in 
 ghostly visitations, and the most reverent souls saw 
 visions and dreamed dreams. There were few large 
 houses without their traditionary spiritual tenants, and 
 to Nathaniel and Olivia it seemed quite natural that 
 the old occupants of the rooms should revisit them. 
 So also, when she looked at the face of the youth who 
 fell at Marston Moor, its melancholy beauty and the 
 predestined fate in its far-seeing eyes touched her with 
 a peculiar nearness of sympathy.
 
 54 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " The world we cannot see is always blending with the 
 world we can see, and I have often had a strange feeling 
 about those who have not been long dead, Nathaniel." 
 
 "Tell your thought to me, Olivia." 
 
 " It is, that those just gone cannot have gone very far 
 away. Dost thou think that I presume too much? " 
 
 Nathaniel's answer was prevented by the entrance of 
 a servant, a middle-aged man called Asa Bevin, who had 
 been with Roger some years in London, and who now 
 filled in Sandys the post of house-steward. 
 
 " Olivia," he said, " here be two constables from Ken- 
 dal, men of Belial both of them, drunken with wine and 
 sin, and speaking loud, swelling words against the man 
 thou wotst of." 
 
 She turned pale, but calmly answered, " Let them be 
 brought here to me, Asa." 
 
 At the moment, without permission, entered the two 
 rude, half-tipsy fellows, whose natural bluster had been 
 increased by visits to every public-house between Kendal 
 and Sandys. 
 
 Olivia looked at the advancing men with a steady 
 face. Nathaniel rose and stood beside her. His atti 
 tude was that of a soul alert at every point, but he knew 
 not the business of the interruption, and could not inter 
 fere without reason. Yet, as soon as he looked well at 
 the officers, he divined what their errand must be ; and 
 he regarded them with such piercing scorn that it was 
 with difficulty the bolder blustered out, 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux, it is not you, but Master Roger 
 Prideaux, we would see." 
 
 " My father is not at home. What is the business you 
 come on?" 
 
 " Well, if thou must know, we want t' man who came 
 here for hiding last night ; t' man called John Whitehead."
 
 "THE WAY TO REST." 55 
 
 " He came not here last night." 
 
 " That 's a put-off. He came this morning then ; and 
 it is like enough, seeing that he is a proper-looking 
 young man, that you have hid him yourself, Mistress." 
 
 " He came this morning, and I have given him food 
 and shelter." 
 
 "Then, Mistress, we have a mittimus for his arrest, 
 and a warrant to search the house for him, if we are 
 restrained in our duty. Let us at him, or it will, mayhap, 
 be the worse for yourself." 
 
 As he spoke he laid his hand upon Olivia's arm, and 
 the next moment Nathaniel had drawn his sword. With 
 the flat side of the blade he struck the offending hand, 
 accompanying the blow with a passionate order to the 
 men to remove their hats in the presence of Mistress 
 Pride aux. 
 
 " The Devil take you for a Quaker dog ! Who may 
 you be, pray? " 
 
 " I am Captain Nathaniel Kelder, a magistrate, and 
 one that stands so much your lord as to see that you 
 carry yourselves as something better than brute beasts." 
 
 " We are in our duty, and while in it we fear not the 
 face of clay." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I will see that you do your duty 
 decently. Show me your papers." 
 
 The men had lived in plenty and had held petty office 
 for some years, but breed is more than pasture. Their 
 peasant nature cowered before the higher type, and with 
 a sulky obedience they handed the writs to their superior. 
 
 " Isaac Sandal signs these, I see. Isaac Sandal is my 
 cousin, and much beholden to me. Take care you go 
 not one inch beyond the line of your orders." Then 
 turning to Olivia, he said, 
 
 " Mistress Pricleaux, in the absence of your father you
 
 56 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 can lawfully withstand these demands, but this is within 
 the compass of your wisdom." 
 
 She stood a few moments in perfect stillness ; then 
 crossing the rooih, she opened a door and said clearly, 
 "John, thou art wanted. Fear not." 
 
 Immediately from the open door stepped a youth of 
 about eighteen years of age. He had a bright, confident 
 face, and a refined, gentle manner, and he answered 
 cheerfully, 
 
 "The mercy which keeps in heights and in depths, 
 the holy Helper, is with me." 
 
 " Help may not come till the last moment, John, but 
 thee will find that it never comes too late. And if there 
 is a bitter cup for thee to drink, remember thy Saviour, 
 and also thy brothers Andrew and James, who perished 
 unshaken and always like themselves, after so many cruel 
 scourgings and crosses." 
 
 As she spoke the hands of the officer were on him, 
 and he began to lock the heavy irons about his wrists. 
 Then Nathaniel said angrily, " Leave the young man at 
 liberty. His word is better than chains. I will be his 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " Gad ! that signifies nothing. I 'm not so off-at-side 
 as to take your Honour's word, and the means for a bond 
 are not here, nor have I the freedom to take one." 
 . " Fellow ! " 
 
 " Better not call me out of my name that way. I 'm 
 doing my duty." 
 
 " On whose complaint is this arrest? " 
 
 " On the complaint of as good a man as any of your 
 bned. Parson Derby's complaint." 
 
 "What hath this lad done against the priest?" 
 
 " Ask him. To boast of his sins is a thing a Quaker 
 likes right well."
 
 "THE WAY TO REST?' 57 
 
 "What is thy fault, John? " Olivia's eyes were full of 
 pity as she dropped them upon the lad's manacled wrists. 
 
 " I spoke to the people in the fish-market of a gospel 
 free from rites and rituals, and of the indwelling light 
 which sets the soul face to face with God, and no man- 
 made priest between. And I said that God raises up 
 his own ministers, and they dispense his Word freely, 
 making no bargains, and indeed fearing that sinful com 
 merce which exchanges heavenly things for earthly things. 
 And the priest railed on me, and swore that I hindered 
 his lawful tithes, which were secured to him by the Leviti- 
 cal law. But I told him that if he went back so far he 
 must take notice that under that law not only the priests, 
 but the fatherless and the widow and the stranger had 
 their share of the tithes. And with that his fury was 
 great, and he set the people on me with stones, and 
 there was a riot ; but in the midst of it three or four men 
 made a wall for me, and I escaped." 
 
 " Ay, and thou saidst a deal more of t' same make ; 
 and it would have been a famous thing if thou had been 
 trampled under t' feet of good honest churchmen, that 
 I say. But my song ! thou shall run to thy deserts now, 
 for I '11 tie thee to my mare, and she will keep thy feet 
 so busy that thy tongue will have a bit of rest, mayhap. 
 It 's high time, I '11 go bail for that ! " 
 
 " I will ride to Kendal with you," said Nathaniel. 
 " And I will take care that you exceed not your warrant, 
 which is to bring John Whitehead in safety. And you 
 shall set the young man on your horse and lead the 
 horse yourself, for I will ride at your side and put my 
 sword against your malice ; and if there is any grievance 
 in the matter, I will answer to my cousin Sandal and the 
 priest for it. Come ! I am in haste, and will be gone 
 at once."
 
 58 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "When Mistress Prideaux has given us some ale and 
 some bread and meat we will take the road." 
 
 " By troth and faith ! you will take the road this very 
 minute. I will stop neither for meat nor drink." 
 
 Nathaniel was in a towering passion, though he re 
 strained its violence, bridling and bitting it with a com 
 posure and a slow sternness of speech that cowed the 
 craven bullies into a sulky obedience to his orders. He 
 turned to Olivia as he left the room and met her kindling 
 glance with one of tender assurance, and her eyes thanked 
 him without a word. Silently they went to the door 
 together. Nathaniel's horse was ready saddled, and it 
 was brought with those belonging to the two constables. 
 He saw John Whitehead placed upon one of these, and 
 then leaped upon his own animal. 
 
 At that moment Olivia stepped swiftly to the side of 
 the prisoner. " John," she said, " this is the price of 
 eternal peace. Is it too great for thee ? " 
 
 " We must all pay the price or go empty away. I am 
 thankfully willing. What should it profit if I gained a few 
 years and lost immortal life? " 
 
 " ' Look for thy Shepherd, he shall give thee everlasting 
 rest ; for he is nigh at hand, that shall come in the end 
 of the world.' " 1 
 
 " ' I testify my Saviour openly.' " 2 
 
 As she spoke Asa Bevin joined them. He carried a 
 silver cup full of wine, and Olivia took it in her hands and 
 raised it to the lips of the youth. He moved his mana 
 cled wrists involuntarily, and then bent his head. With 
 a slight effort she held the cup while he drank. Nathaniel 
 saw her lifted face, saw the shadow of apprehended mar 
 tyrdom in her pitiful eyes, the rapture of apprehended 
 glory in her holy smile. He commanded by his look and 
 1 2 Esdras, ii. 34. 2 Ibid. 36.
 
 "THE WAY TO REST:' 59 
 
 manner an absolute pause while this sacrament of sacred 
 sympathy lasted. The officers stood, still, agape and si 
 lent. Asa, with bent head, murmured a half-audible 
 prayer. Nathaniel sat motionless, looking at the bound 
 youth and the ministering maiden. When she moved the 
 spell broke, the picture dissolved, the momentary visita 
 tion was over, was almost as if it had not been. The 
 constables began to grumble and bluster. 
 
 ' Lend me a nag, Mistress Prideaux," the dismounted 
 man said. " I can't go afoot all t' way to Kendal. I 
 never said as I 'd make t' prisoner do it, not all t' way. 
 Come, Mistress, it will be raining full drive afore long." 
 
 Nathaniel answered for her : " I will have you step as 
 you purposed a better man than yourself to step. . Keep 
 at the side of Master Whitehead's horse. You shall go 
 afoot this day, if you never do it again. Mistress Pri 
 deaux, fare you well ! " He lifted his hat to the girl he 
 loved so dearly, and then by a sharp movement of his 
 hand indicated the order of the journey. 
 
 Olivia watched them out of sight, but Nathaniel never 
 turned his head. She understood the intentness of his 
 nature. She felt it to be right that his heart should be 
 wholly set upon the thing he had resolved to do, for the 
 work was in the way of mercy and justice. It was the 
 righteous indignation of his heart, and not in this case its 
 love, which made him the defender of the helpless. 
 Olivia understood this and she thought the more nobly 
 of him for it. 
 
 She sat still a long time, musing in that sympathy which 
 steals upon the meditative mind and grows with thought. 
 Her pale, serious face and eyes of religious purity showed, 
 even in her brooding silence, a certain misgiving. She 
 could not forbear shaping in the future things which made 
 her heart beat quick ; for never until that morning had she
 
 60 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 thought of a lover. Her life was yet a virgin wilderness, 
 but Nathaniel was just beginning to tinge the horizon of 
 her thoughts. 
 
 As for Nathaniel, he would gladly have kept silence and 
 recalled every word she had spoken and every expression 
 which had flitted across her face ; but he had 1 jng 
 taught himself to subject desire to duty, and he believed 
 it to be his duty to give John Whitehead an " opportu 
 nity." So he encouraged him to speak of that wondrous 
 communion which was then not only " great " but also 
 " new " tidings. His own heart burned by the way, but 
 it was all " foolishness " to the two officers. The idea of 
 a Christ far off in heaven was not an uncomfortable one ; 
 but a Christ in their own souls, illuminating all the dark 
 corners, and compelling them to purify themselves, was 
 terrifying. Like the Gadarenes of old, they besought 
 such an one to depart. 
 
 The conversation, however, so interested Nathaniel 
 that he remained in Kendal until the next day, hoping to 
 obtain the freedom of the youth ; but the accusing priest 
 was also judge, and John Whitehead's imprisonment was 
 a preordained sentence. Ironed like a felon he was sent 
 to Appleby jail, a dreadful dungeon, dark, damp, filthy, 
 and fever-haunted. 
 
 With a. heart full of pity Nathaniel bade him fare 
 well. But John had that "joy within " which disdained 
 to take into account any outward misery. His bright 
 young face was turned toward martyrdom, but he laid his 
 chained hands in Nathaniel's hands, and said joyfully, 
 
 " This is the way to rest, Nathaniel ; this is the way to 
 rest forever ! "
 
 IV. 
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 
 
 " About some act 
 That has no relish of salvation in 't." 
 
 "The wicked flee when no man pursueth." 
 
 " Of all the virtues justice is the best ; 
 Valour without it is a common pest. 
 Pirates and thieves, too oft with courage graced, 
 Show us how ill that virtje may be placed." 
 
 '"PHE parting between Nathaniel and John Whitehead 
 * was in Kendal market-place. It was raining as it 
 only does rain in that section of England, full drive, 
 raining and ceasing, and then beginning again. The rifts 
 in the black clouds threw lines of cold, steely light upon 
 the houses, and made them look strange and gloomy. 
 There was also a wuthering wind sobbing through the 
 narrow wet streets, and the natural outlook could scarcely 
 have been more dreary and depressing. 
 
 Nathaniel forced his cloak and purse upon John, heed 
 ing not the opinion of the by-standers. But, indeed, they 
 were singularly sympathetic ; for the heroic calmness of 
 John before his judge, and his heavenly resignation in the 
 face of so much injustice, engaged the pity of the majority. 
 Englishmen, in the mass, love fair play above everything, 
 and the accusing priest for a judge, with a jury of church 
 wardens and church officers, did not strike them as fair 
 play ; so that Nathaniel's sympathy was in the main quite
 
 62 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 acceptable to the little crowd huddled in the shelter of 
 the archways and the market-stalls. For a man really in 
 earnest about heaven and hell, death and judgment, may 
 be regarded as mad and an object of pity, but he is never 
 a subject for contempt. 
 
 Then Nathaniel turned his horse's head toward Kel- 
 derby. He galloped with a savage earnestness of pur 
 pose, and Nathaniel found himself setting his angry 
 thoughts to the rough natural music of the beating hoofs. 
 He stayed for a few moments at Sandys, but he did not 
 alight. He fancied that Roger was constrained and cold 
 in his invitation to do so, and he did not see Olivia 
 at all. 
 
 The circumstance troubled him. He had expected 
 Roger to praise him for his partisanship, and for the 
 trouble he had taken in the affairs of a persecuted 
 Quaker. He had expected, and he thought not un 
 justly, that Olivia would feel an interest in the fate of 
 the young man she had sheltered. In such a storm it 
 was not likely she would be from home, and he thought 
 she must also have seen his approach. But he was judg 
 ing as mortals do judge from the presenting side of events 
 alone ; and in this case the influence of the side not seen 
 was ' not only undue but perplexing, unprecedented, and 
 incommunicable. In fact it was the influence of Anastasia 
 de Burg, though exerted in a way outside of all his fears 
 or suspicions. 
 
 For Nathaniel's refusal to aid in her brother's escape 
 was really a more serious disappointment than he thought 
 it to be. Suspicion follows hard upon mistrust, and the 
 morning after Nathaniel's visit Stephen de Burg asserted, 
 in a manner not to be trifled with, that he was positive he 
 had smelt the odour of tobacco in the upper corridor on 
 the previous night. Anastasia concluded instantly that it
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 63 
 
 was best to resent this speech as an innuendo against her 
 honour, and this she did with so much anger and such pas 
 sionate and scornful asseverations of her innocence that 
 for a time De Burg was led to doubt his discernment and 
 the evidence of his senses. 
 
 But Anastasia knew that this was but a temporary satis 
 faction, and as soon as possible she went to her brother. 
 He was in a worse temper than his father, and for the 
 first time she saw in his face the evidence of all the sin 
 and cruelty of which he had been accused. 
 
 " It is well you have come, Asia," he grumbled ; " I 
 am at the end of my patience. I have been twenty times 
 on the point of setting fire to the old pile. Taking us all 
 together we should make a nice burnt-offering to the 
 Devil." 
 
 She turned on him almost savagely. " The old pile can 
 shelter you no longer, John. You must go, and at 
 once." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " To Sandys." 
 
 "To the Quaker's?" 
 
 " This Quaker is a fool, John ; and I 'It swear you are 
 ten times a fool if you work him not to your purpose." 
 
 Then she stooped toward him and said in a low voice, 
 "If you could ' thee and thou ' I should say go as a per 
 secuted Quaker, and Friend Roger would hide thee and 
 Friend Olivia would amuse thee, and thy consolations 
 would be many ; but you are altogether too daring and 
 wicked, John, for such a merry disguise. You must wear 
 your own cavalier dress, and throw yourself upon the 
 mercy of the man. I hear he hath a great heart." 
 
 " If but one of his servants knew my face, it would be 
 the rope or the deep sea." 
 
 " His servants are such as came from London with him.
 
 64 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 And you are in so dangerous a taking that you must be 
 another and a better man than yourself." 
 
 " Why risk so much ? In a few days my ship will be 
 off" 
 
 " In a few hours it may be too late for you ever to 
 reach your ship. You anger me beyond all patience. I 
 have told you how full of suspicion the house is. One of 
 us must break the wonder soon. I have brought you a 
 cloak left by Captain Bellingham at his last visit. Here 
 also is a rapier of my father's and the last goldpieces I 
 have. Be warned and go at once." 
 
 " To Sandys ? But how ? And fit me with a name, 
 since I may not use my own." 
 
 " I have considered all. The late lord took with him 
 to the field a poor cousin called Harald Sandys, a 
 man from the south, and 't was said that he also died 
 at Marston. Marry ! that is a lie for you to contradict. 
 You are Harald Sandys ; and the name is the more fit 
 ting that I hear this Quaker finds a great content in 
 honouring the dead family. So onward to Sandys, for 
 I assure you this matter calls for dispatch." 
 
 " 'T is some distance, and I am but a poor walker, if 
 it be not on the deck of my own ship." 
 
 " I have been riding, and I left my mare tied under 
 the great sycamore. Take her. At Sandys park gates 
 you can turn her loose ; she will make shift to find her 
 way home again. 1 ' 
 
 "But listen, Asia " 
 
 " Hush ! " She stood with her right hand raised in the 
 attitude of one listening intently. Her face blanched ; 
 she whispered in an agony of terror, "That is my 
 father's step ! Fly, fly ! Down the great stairway ! I 
 will keep him in speech till you are away." 
 
 "John was quite cool and collected. The cloak, the
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 6$ 
 
 rapier, the gold, he forgot none of them, and just as 
 Stephen de Burg sharply tried the handle of his daugh 
 ter's door, John de Burg stepped noiselessly through the 
 corridor and down the stairway. There were two ser 
 vants in the distance, but they were deceived by Captain 
 Bellingham's cloak, and they took no notice of his egress. 
 He had mounted the waiting horse and was flying 
 through the park while as yet Anastasia answered her 
 father's demands through the bolted door of her room. 
 
 " By God and the Devil, Mistress ! I will know who 
 is within your room. Draw the bolt, and let me enter." 
 
 " Not on such demand. It stands not with my honour." 
 
 In like parleying, every moment growing more pas 
 sionate and offensive, Anastasia delayed her father's in 
 tention for a short space. But when she found that he 
 would call help and force an entrance, she flung wide the 
 door with words of indignation and scornful reproach. 
 
 He had his riding-whip in his hand, and he let it fall 
 with pitiless weight upon her shoulders. It was a com 
 mon discipline for the high-tempered dames of those 
 days, and Anastasia took half a dozen strokes without any 
 apparent sense of wrong or insult. Suddenly, however, 
 she turned, and with a swift and unexpected movement 
 snatched the whip from his hand and flung it beneath her 
 feet. Her face blazed, her eyes defied him, she extended 
 her arm and cried out in a tone impossible to contradict : 
 
 " Stand off, sir ! That is sufficient for my disobe 
 dience ! I have committed no other fault." 
 
 " Show me the company you had, and I will believe 
 you. Here hath been too much whispering about it. 
 If 't was not Captain Bell " 
 
 " Captain Bellingham ! Sir, I am your child, and 
 faith ! the De Burgs fall not to petty vices. The Devil 
 honours us all with great affairs." She dropped him a 
 
 5
 
 66 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 mocking courtesy with the words, and moved him to 
 speechless anger by that untranslatable defiance which 
 radiates from an indignant and .wrathful woman. 
 
 He did not answer her specially, but went muttering 
 about the room, throwing open awmries and closets, 
 and accompanying the act with a storm of abusive and 
 suspicious words. Then he passed into the rooms be 
 yond, and Anastasia opened the window, cast the whip 
 into the garden, and then stood waiting for the blast of 
 fury she knew would soon follow. 
 
 There had been no time to obliterate in John's room 
 the traces of its occupancy. His pipe lay upon a table, 
 and beside it there were still the remains of meat and 
 wine. De Burg became suddenly silent when he saw 
 them, and a feeling almost of satisfaction blended with 
 his passion. He had been right, then. His anger was 
 just, it needed no longer to grope about in a blind rage' 
 seeking its object. He called Anastasia in a vaunting, 
 strenuous voice, and she answered the summons at once. 
 
 He pointed to the pipe, the food, and the bottle, and 
 she looked at them with the calm indifference with 
 which we regard familiar and expected objects. 
 
 " I swear, I swear, Mistress, I will blush for you, 
 since you blush not for your own shame ! Lord ! What 
 have you to say now? " 
 
 " For your sake, sir, I say nothing at present." 
 
 " I bless myself at my patience ! God in heaven ! 
 I '11 find a way to make you say something. Name the 
 villain, that I may spit him on my sword to the hilt- 
 basket. Speak ! " 
 
 " I have nothing to say." 
 
 For the moment he was unable to answer, but he went 
 back to Anastasia's room and began to search the floor 
 in a furious hurry. She understood his motive and
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 67 
 
 said calmly, " If you are looking for your riding-whip, it 
 is as far beyond your reach as it ought to be beyond 
 your desire. Be reasonable, sir ; then I will give you 
 the satisfaction you cannot get from me with any amount 
 of dog-treatment. This also is an affair for ourselves ; 
 why breed a story about it ? Do you wish all the foot 
 men and serving-maids in the county to gape over us? " 
 
 There was something in her manner which shocked 
 him into a dazed, reluctant kind of reasonableness. Her 
 face expressed anxiety, but not even the shadow of 
 shame. She stood a little distance from him, silent and 
 hesitating, for she was trying to put off her confession 
 in order to gain every moment possible for her flying 
 brother. The voiceless tension was soon irritating to 
 De Burg. " This silence is a mummery," he said. 
 " You were ever too ready to speak. Whom have you 
 been entertaining so near to your own room? " 
 
 " One of our own name." 
 
 She let the words drop slowly, watching her father's 
 face as she did so. It terrified her. 
 
 " You lie ! " 
 
 No, sir." 
 
 "Name him, if you dare." 
 
 "Your son, John de Burg." 
 
 " You lie tenfold ! I have no son." 
 
 " My brother, John de Burg." 
 
 " The curse of God and man ! How dared you bring 
 him under my roof ? " And he threw her from him with 
 a force that would have felled a frailer woman. Anas- 
 tasia reeled, but recovered herself quickly. 
 
 " It is the truth. I would have saved you the truth if 
 you had trusted me. John, as you well know, has been 
 hunted off the sea. He came to the home earth, and 
 for your sake I hid him. ' T was a strange hazard, and
 
 68 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 I do not deserve to be struck for carrying it out with so 
 much bravery. All considered, can there be anything 
 more absurd than that you should play Brutus in your 
 own house ? Plenty of ghosts wander about these rooms 
 at midnight, wringing helpless hands. John in the flesh 
 is manageable, but I would not have you the one to set 
 his soul free of it. Nor had I a mind that our affairs 
 should breed tittle-tattle among neighbours; so I lent 
 him my mare, and gone he is." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "To sea. His ship was waiting off Barrow for him. 
 Say what you will, you cannot but know that I have 
 acted with a wisdom beyond yourself. Sir, go not away 
 in such haste and distraction. 'T is beyond your power 
 to come up with him, and why then set the country 
 howling the name of De Burg to curses?" 
 
 "There is no curse too deep for him." 
 
 " Some also might say that it was a strange thing if 
 John de Burg was so long under your roof without your 
 connivance ; and you are not without enemies who would 
 make the most of the doubt." 
 
 De Burg listened to her with blazing eyes and a sul 
 lenly thoughtful face. There are generally circumstances 
 surrounding every wrong which make it difficult or im 
 prudent for the injured either to avenge or to right them 
 selves. De Burg had been brought to a point which 
 permitted him to take these into consideration, and 
 Anastasia wisely left him to that employment. She occu 
 pied herself in putting straight the contents of a drawer ; 
 and while his mind was revolving words and deeds which 
 could suggest nothing but the highway gibbet or the 
 avenging knife, his eyes were curiously noting her long 
 white fingers as they folded a pink ribbon or slowly 
 crimped a bit of English point.
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 69 
 
 At length he saw her take a lawn kerchief and fold it 
 for a covering for her neck. The act reproached him, 
 and he furtively lifted his eyes and saw the marks of his 
 passion across her white shoulders. It was not a pleas 
 ant sight, so he moved in a slow, stupid way toward the 
 door, muttering, " Where there are women there are all 
 kinds of mischiefs ; " but after having closed the door he 
 re-opened it and bade her come down quickly and play 
 a game of draughts with him. He was afraid of his own 
 thoughts, and the large, empty rooms, turning shabby in 
 the years of trouble in which nothing had been renewed, 
 were indeed haunted even in the sunny midday with 
 ghostly memories he could not endure to entertain. 
 
 It was at this same hour that Nathaniel was leaving 
 Sandys as the protector of John Whitehead. Half way 
 to Kendal the party saw John de Burg, a little off the 
 main road, riding like a man who rides to outrun dis 
 aster. The constables both turned to watch him ; and 
 Nathaniel also observed the mad hurry of the rider, the 
 head bent to the neck of the animal, the cloak streaming 
 out behind. The sight, after all, was only a natural one ; 
 but nothing in life deserves more attention than the 
 things we call natural, since it is by the most natural 
 doors that trouble enters. 
 
 As for John de Burg, he paid no attention to the 
 party. It was not pursuing him, and his mind was 
 wholly set upon reaching Sandys before his father could 
 take any determined steps against him. At the park 
 gates he dismissed the mare and made at once for the 
 coverts of undergrowth, and thus he gradually advanced 
 to the house. In the interval he recovered his usual 
 cool assurance ; and when the park became a garden, he 
 was prepared to meet any one wandering in its shade. 
 
 The sight of a white hood gave him pleasure. He
 
 7O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 rightly divined that the wearer was Olivia Prideaux, and 
 he contrived to meet her in a narrow walk bordered by 
 hedges of privet. There he threw himself at her feet 
 with an impetuous fear and a pretence of exhaustion 
 which startled and alarmed the girl. 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux, have pity on me ! " he cried. 
 " My life is in your hands. Be so merciful as to care 
 for it a little." 
 
 "I know thee not; but if thee is in trouble " 
 
 " I am Harald Sandys. I have been to Penrith on 
 the king's business, and am like to be run down by the 
 king's enemies. I have come to the old home for 
 shelter. I know not where else to go." 
 
 She looked with pity on the kneeling man, and touch 
 ing his hand said, " Rise ! Thou must not kneel to any 
 mortal, and I think thou hast a right to shelter here. 
 My father is at Ulverstone ; but until he returns I will 
 do his duty for him. Walk by my side. I am glad 
 thou art yet alive. It was said, and fully believed, that 
 no Sandys escaped the sword." 
 
 " Indeed, Mistress, I was sorely wounded at Marston, 
 where my noble cousin fell ; but I was nursed and shel 
 tered, and so I escaped to the king, in whose service 
 I spend my poor life." 
 
 There was no further conversation. She walked di 
 rectly to the house, and John de Burg walked at her 
 side. He felt that he had said sufficient, and that he 
 could be silent and know that silence would be to his 
 advantage ; but he watched with a furtive delight the 
 beautiful face at his side. Wicked as he was, he felt 
 the purity of his companion, and he looked at the inno 
 cent girl with something of the same pleasure which a 
 botanist feels when he suddenly discovers a wondrous 
 flower unknown to him before.
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 71 
 
 Asa Bevin met them in the front hall, and looked with 
 little favour on the dusty, disordered cavalier. Perhaps 
 Olivia noticed the man's expression, for she said with a 
 decided purpose and authority : " A neighbour in trou 
 ble, Asa. Thou wilt see that he has all things necessary 
 for his comfort. Until my father comes home he is in thy 
 care, and there is no other to know of his presence here." 
 
 Then she removed her hood, and sat down to con 
 sider what she had done ; but it was difficult even for 
 her well-trained mind to follow out one train of thought. 
 Nathaniel's looks and words, and his espousal of John 
 Whitehead's case, would blend with the circumstances 
 of this last most unlooked-for visitor. Asa's evident dis 
 approval of him also annoyed her. 
 
 "Thou must judge with a fair mind, Asa," she said 
 in reply to a very doubtful speech ; " and thou must not 
 let thy prejudices hinder thy kindness. I trust that 
 Charles Stuart hath some good men in his service." 
 
 " Olivia, we have neither this nor that to do with 
 Charles Stuart. Thou shouldst have waited for counsel 
 and clearness in such a weighty matter." 
 
 "The man had his life in his hand. If our enemy 
 hunger, we are told to feed him." 
 
 " If friend or enemy hath a crime against him, we are 
 not told to prevent justice. And Friends are concerned 
 to testify against mixing up with the world's people. 
 This man hath their likeness and likelihood. I have 
 not felt drawn toward him." 
 
 "To-morrow morning my father will be home. He 
 will doubtless be given to see his duty. Until then let 
 the stranger be in thy charge." 
 
 " Truly I will. I think not of trusting him ; for I have 
 been counselled by that which never failed me." 
 
 " Be not over-suspicious, Asa. The shadow of divine 
 mercy is exceeding broad."
 
 72 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 She sat down in it, and lost herself in the sweetness 
 and peace of its consolation. Was it not sufficient for all 
 the sure anxieties of the present, and also for those which 
 lurked in the obscurity of the future? A great calm 
 fell upon her soul. She was at rest in the Lord, and 
 they who ascend that height have all things under their 
 feet. 
 
 It was near noon on the following day when Roger 
 returned from Ulverstone. There had been a memo 
 rable meeting there. The very room had been shaken 
 by the power of God, and from the awful glory of that 
 experience many had risen to give themselves and all 
 they had to the preaching of the indwelling Christ. The 
 light and comfort of the Holy Ghost was with Roger, 
 its reflection on his face, and his favourite hymn singing 
 through his heart : 
 
 " Oh, be glad, thou Zion's daughter, 
 
 Joyous news to thee are sent ; 
 Thou shalt sing a strain cf sweetness, 
 
 Sing it to thy heart's content. 
 Now the friend of God thou art, 
 Therefore shalt thou joy at heart, 
 Therefore know no sorrow smart." 1 
 
 At that hour the gift of life, with God and eternity to 
 bless and crown it, seemed a very precious gift to him. 
 
 The news of John Whitehead's arrest and of Na 
 thaniel's sympathy did not darken his happy mood. 
 He almost envied the youths their opportunity for " tes 
 tifying." But when Olivia spoke of the hidden guest 
 waiting to see him, Roger was troubled. For men with 
 God to strengthen them may face martyrdom smiling, 
 and the same men shrink and tremble before a financial 
 crisis which is to be a question for quibbling lawyers 
 and prejudiced judges. 
 
 1 Old German mystical hymn.
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 73 
 
 The first mention of Harald Sandys raised in Roger's 
 mind a grave and troublous question. Would this 
 Harald be heir-at-law? Would his own purchase of 
 Sandys be void? Would his tenure of the house be 
 in the discretion of this young man? He asked many 
 particulars of Olivia and of Asa, and was not comforted 
 by any report received. 
 
 It was just at this hour that Nathaniel called with his 
 account of the proceedings in John Whitehead's case. 
 He saw plainly that Roger was not himself; and as he 
 could not imagine the true reason of his mental dis 
 turbance, he followed the usual course of men and 
 women, and began to consider what he had said or done 
 to induce the constrained courtesy, and to make himself 
 unhappy over it. 
 
 He arrived at Kelderby in that mood which above all 
 things asks for sympathy. And it so happened that he 
 had just overstayed the moment in which sympathy still 
 waited for him. Lady Kelder had been impatiently 
 expecting her son for thirty hours. During at least 
 twenty-nine of them she had waited for him with that 
 alternating pleasure and wonder which is ready to accord 
 with whatever mood asks fellow-feeling. But the strain 
 had been a little too long; she had begun to feel in 
 jured, neglected, and of small account. As she drove 
 her wheel round she told herself, and sometimes told 
 the baron, who sat reading opposite her, that she was 
 very silly to expect consideration when Anastasia was 
 her rival. And the baron, hearing her voice only as 
 discords through the measures of 
 
 " Sydnsian showers 
 Of sweet discourse," 
 
 answered vaguely what he thought likewise ; and so 
 mended nothing wrong, but rather made sense of neglect 
 worse.
 
 74 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 It was raining heavily yet, and the black, drizzling 
 crags, the tilled fields swept by the wet wind, the grass 
 black with shadows, the heights coifed with gray, 
 ghostly vapours, everything around insensibly sub 
 dued the mind to a settled melancholy quiet. It was 
 such a day as breeds worries, even if they do not exist ; 
 and Lady Kelder, having waited with unused sympathy 
 all the morning, felt now as if nothing could induce her 
 to give what had been so long neglected. Her hour for 
 waiting to be gracious was past, and she looked up at 
 Nathaniel when he entered with an indifference which he 
 felt it difficult to contend with. 
 
 The baron put down his book and said, with some 
 effort of enthusiasm, " Glad to see you, Nathaniel ! Let 
 me tell you your mother and I have taken your delay 
 very ill, and with rather small patience." 
 
 " 'T was against my will, sir." 
 
 " Fie, Nathaniel ! When a man is so passionately 
 taken with a gentlewoman as you are with Anastasia 
 de Burg, his will is a very spider-web for her to break." 
 
 " My dear mother, I left Anastasia within three hours 
 after our meeting. This, on my conscience ! " 
 
 "Nathaniel, what said my Cousin Stephen to your 
 news?" 
 
 " Indeed, sir, I think he took it with light gratitude. 
 He was for the hills, and did not wait to speak his 
 mind ; nor did I wait to hear it at his convenience." 
 
 " I lost my hopes of any good out of Stephen de 
 Burg long ago," said Lady Kelder. "Where there is 
 no grace, how can there be gratitude ? Pray, how does 
 Mistress de Burg endure what she mockingly calls ' the 
 reign of the saints ' ? " 
 
 " She was not in a complaining humour. I found her 
 engaged in a game of battledore with Captain Belling- 
 ham and Squire Chenage."
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 75 
 
 " And dressed like a May queen, or a picture of Mr. 
 Lely's, without doubt." 
 
 " Indeed, Mother, I remember not in particulars. 
 She was in a glow of pink ribbons, and extremely 
 handsome." 
 
 "And mincing and stepping with a delicate grace 
 like King Agag, I '11 warrant her. And giving you 
 such refuse of her smiles as Squire Chenage and Captain 
 Bellingham could not miss. She had ever that kind 
 of trick with you." 
 
 " Mother, you wrong me as much as you wrong the 
 lady. And you are enough in my heart to know that I 
 would humour no such beggarly grace." 
 
 " Come, Nathaniel, here is food ; and I make no 
 doubt you need it. While you eat you shall give us the 
 rest of your adventures. Good meat and drink never 
 yet spoiled a tale. If you left De Burg ere sunset, 
 where spent you the night?" 
 
 " Baron, what need to ask ? He spent it at Sandys, 
 of course. Little wit is needed for that riddle." 
 
 " Indeed, Mother, you have guessed to a miracle. I 
 was at Sandys. There I found also many ladies and 
 gentlemen of good degree ; also your favoured minister, 
 John Duttred." 
 
 " John Duttred ! If what you say, Nathaniel, be of 
 your own knowledge, I will believe it ; if you saw him 
 not, I scarce know how to do so." 
 
 " What could take the minister to the Quakers' ? " 
 asked the baron, curiously. 
 
 " To talk with one of whom all men may learn some 
 what. George Fox was there, and Duttred had some 
 disputing with him." 
 
 " A waste of time and testimony," said Lady Kelder. 
 " George Fox listens only to himself."
 
 76 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " What thought you of him ? " 
 
 " I think, Father, that he is such an one as God uses 
 to shake the souls of men. I can but wonder that he 
 sent at one time Fox and Cromwell. Surely England 
 has been exalted to the skies by such favour." 
 
 " I am amazed at you, Nathaniel. 'T is nothing but an 
 insult to the Protector to set him in the same sentence 
 with a Quaker. And he would not forgive you very 
 quickly for it." 
 
 " Mother, if you will allow me to repeat to you what 
 George Fox said, you must needs see how much of preju 
 dice there is in your misliking." 
 
 " I thank God I have no itching ear for strange doc 
 trine ; ' plain blasphemy ' Master Duttred calls Quakerism. 
 And if you will talk of it, 't will be in my absence. I have 
 no senses for such people, no eyes to see them, no ears 
 to hear them, no tongue to talk of them ; no, truly, though 
 it were of that pattern of all virtues, Mistress Olivia 
 Prideaux ! " 
 
 With the words she rose up in a passion from her wheel, 
 and said many things too positive to be reasonable. For 
 the finest ladies, then as now, caught the spirit of their 
 age, and Lady Kelder thought she did well to stand by 
 the faith in which she had trusted from her childhood ; 
 and it cannot be denied that, being in a fit of bad tem 
 per, she was not sorry to find a point of conscience to 
 excuse it. 
 
 " You, Nathaniel Kelder ! " she cried passionately. 
 " You ! you, who are of the blood of the martyrs ! You 
 speaking for the Quakers is a thing not to be endured ! 
 Were your fore-elders, who died in the fires of Smithfield 
 and perished in the cells of Newgate for their testimony 
 to God's truth, under a delusion? Was my father, hunted 
 to death on these hills for Non-conformity, deceived by
 
 JOHN DE BURG. 77 
 
 his own imaginations ? No, sir ! And if they were in the 
 right, then these Quakers are scandalously and abomina 
 bly and blasphemously in the wrong. And as for the 
 Protector, I blame him every hour and every minute for 
 suffering them in the land at all." 
 
 She delivered this opinion with all the vehemence of a 
 soul-conviction, and as neither her husband nor her son 
 felt disposed to continue a defence not as yet definite 
 in their own minds, Lady Kelder left the room with 
 the private assurance that her words had touched the 
 deepest feelings of both men, and had been felt to be 
 unanswerable. 
 
 Then there was a few minutes of that uncomfortable si 
 lence of indecision which relieves itself either by motion 
 or by gloomy intentness. Nathaniel walked about the 
 room, the baron sat gazing into the leaping flames on the 
 hearth ; Jael came in and removed the dishes, and put by 
 her lady's wheel, and pottered about the fire and the fur 
 niture until the very air of the room was irritable, but 
 when left alone father and son were both ready to talk. 
 
 Naturally the De Burgs opened the conversation, and it 
 turned at once to John de Burg and the proposal which 
 had been made by Anastasia. " I acted, sir, without your 
 advice, and I may have been in too great a passion of 
 honour and honesty. John was born wicked. It seemeth 
 to me that he hath inherited all the sinful tendencies of 
 all the De Burgs before him. Perchance this ought to 
 have been considered." 
 
 " I observe not in Scripture any special tolerance for 
 such men, neither in nature do we make excuses for in 
 herited evil tendencies. The dog too brutal for control 
 is mercilessly slain. We put our foot upon the head of 
 the adder. In foreign countries the tiger and the great 
 serpent are not forgiven the consequences of their devilish
 
 78 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 desires because they are natural to them. And John de 
 Burg was born under the chime of church bells, with the 
 words of prophets and apostles in his ears ; he knew the 
 Name which would compel the seven devils within him to 
 tremble and fly, and he never spoke it. This is most 
 sure, or he had cleansed his soul with the good handsel 
 of that name. You spoke well for me. My roof shall 
 not shelter nor my bread feed him." 
 
 " If, indeed, he was truly sorry ? " 
 
 " He would deliver himself to justice and pay the pen 
 alty of his crimes. His father, though a thorough malig 
 nant, hath so much of virtue and honour as to abhor the 
 son who has linked his name with deeds conceived in 
 devilish cruelty and wrought out with the cunning and 
 treachery of a wild beast." 
 
 Now often when the heart is full of turmoil, restlessness, 
 and anger, conversation about a wicked person acts as a 
 salutary medicine. As the two men spoke of John de 
 Burg it was as if the evil name drew to itself all that was 
 evil or irritable in them. Gradually they spoke with less 
 fret, until the mention of Roger Prideaux opened a holy 
 and wonderful subject. In it they became more and 
 more interested and in earnest ; and anon the co'nversa- 
 tion was full of eloquent pauses and ellipses. Their 
 voices grew low and solemn. In each other's eyes they 
 caught meanings beyond words. The fire burned down 
 to red ash, and they heeded it not ; the evening shadows 
 grew long and dim ; they sat stiller and stiller in them, 
 for the warmth of the hidden fire was in their hearts, and 
 the glow of the inward light around them.
 
 V. 
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 
 
 "With how secure a brow and specious form 
 He gilds the secret villain I 
 
 sets his countenance for deceit, 
 
 And promises a lie before he speaks." 
 
 " Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, 
 Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." 
 
 " My heavy heart, the prophetess of woe, 
 Forebodes some ill at hand." 
 
 T T is not necessary that we run glittering like a brook 
 *- in the open sunshine in order to be happy, yet every 
 heart seeks some flower of pleasure with which to adorn 
 its daily duty ; even as the wealthy wheatfield wears with 
 the bending corn the useless, splendid poppy. Nathaniel 
 had many important things to attend to during the week 
 ensuing his visit to Kendal, for the oversight of the estate 
 was on him, and there was wood-cutting in the forest, 
 and there were folds upon the hills, and the farm servants 
 and the fishers and the shrimp-gatherers all waited for his 
 orders. But though these duties brought him a sure sat 
 isfaction, he thought very often of Olivia, and the memory 
 of her voice was like some one calling him wherever he 
 went ; and he longed, even in his busiest hours, for the 
 sight of her face, and for that nearness of her presence 
 which was in itself a simple delight. 
 
 Sometimes the baron rode or walked with him; and 
 the two men meeting a solitary shepherd on the hills, or
 
 8O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 a fisher tugging his boat on to the shingle, or a silent man 
 driving the plough before him, they would stop and talk 
 awhile : first of the work going on, but sure finally to 
 drift to the subjects uppermost in every heart, life and 
 death and the conditions pertaining to them ; how " man 
 that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble," 
 and how he can be justified with God. 
 
 These thoughts, which the ancient Chaldean pondered 
 under the stars of the desert, and which survive all changes 
 of race, manners, and dynasty, had at that day in England 
 a tremendous vitality. The Bible in the vulgar tongue 
 was as yet a new book. Men and women loved it and 
 trusted in it with a passionate sincerity which it is hard 
 for us to understand, who use it as a schoolbook, and 
 make anagrams and puzzles out of it for the amusement 
 column of the weekly newspaper. Every word between 
 its covers was the word of God. No one doubted a tittle 
 of it. It was read upon the knees. It was never touched 
 but with clean hands. Upon its stand or table no other 
 thing was permitted a place. In the household and the 
 church it was the holy of holies. Men then really did 
 sell a field and buy this pearl of price. And they were 
 not content to read ; they searched the Scriptures for 
 hid treasure, and they found it. 
 
 And as God is his own interpreter to every man, and to 
 no two men alike, no wonder that it was an age of spirit 
 ual conversation and discussion. Even on Kelder's es 
 tate he found the great truths, which all acknowledged, 
 tinged by a variety of individualities. The shepherds had 
 aerial visions, the husbandmen strong and stern convic 
 tions, the dwellers by the sea believed in supernatural 
 forms of sight and hearing ; but with all of them Na 
 thaniel had strong sympathies. The Bethlehem shep 
 herds, watching their flocks by night, had seen a vision
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 8 1 
 
 of angels ; he knew no reason why Westmoreland shep 
 herds should not be equally blessed. He could under 
 stand how these grave men, even when fighting the battles 
 of the Lord, had pined for the upper pastures with their 
 long twilights, and their wide view and their free life. 
 
 Several of the farmers had been soldiers in Cromwell's 
 army, and to obey God's will and do duty to its last par 
 ticle was their ideal of righteousness ; special tokens of 
 love, particular help or visitations, they looked not for. 
 The "well done" of the Master at the close of their 
 labour was sufficient. In such strong self-abnegation 
 Nathaniel grew in spiritual stature ; and there were times 
 when even the melancholy mysteries of the coastmen 
 fitted into his mood. He could feel with them the har 
 binger of death going overhead, and see and hear in their 
 dubious, dreamlike intimations as men do and see and 
 hear who go down to the sea in ships and see God's 
 wonders in the great deep. 
 
 One morning, more than a week after this eventful 
 journey, Nathaniel was sitting with the baron upon a 
 large bowlder overlooking a great extent of country. 
 Suddenly he had an impression that he ought to go to 
 Sandys. The desire to do so had been with him all the 
 week ; but he had felt hurt at Roger's constrained man 
 ner, and an honest haughtiness of self-esteem, not to be 
 blamed, had hitherto prevented him from humouring his 
 inclinations. 
 
 " Father," he said, " I feel that I must go to Sandys. 
 It appears to me that I have no time for delay." 
 
 "Consider whether the feeling be of desire or of 
 duty." 
 
 "There are commands which I have no right to 
 consider. This is one of them." 
 
 He rose as he said the words and began to unfasten 
 6
 
 82 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 his horse and arrange the bridle. The baron rose with 
 him. The calm induced by their previous conversation 
 was all gone ; he looked anxious, and in a wistful, warning 
 voice said, " Before you mount look to the girth." 
 
 The words had a much deeper intent, and Nathaniel 
 caught it and nodded a grave assurance in reply. Then 
 he rode away with the hurry of a man who is sent as a 
 swift messenger, and the baron led his own horse down 
 the green, slippery sheep-path; and somehow, for the 
 dim turmoil of his uncertain feelings, he could find no 
 ejaculation but one, " Oh, the changing years ! Oh, the 
 changing years!" And though to others the words would 
 have been unintelligible, to Odinel Kelder they were the 
 sum of a life full of vivid emotions and stirring deeds. 
 
 Nathaniel reached Sandys in the afternoon. He had 
 been detained a little by a tide-swollen stream, and 
 had lost some of that enthusiasm of conviction which 
 had hurried him at his first setting out. Roger Prideaux 
 was not at home ; he had gone to neighbour Gill's, Asa 
 said, but might be back at any hour. Now, Nathaniel 
 was a great favourite with Asa, and he had the utmost re 
 liance upon his heart and judgment. He knew, quite as 
 well as if Nathaniel had told him so, that the young man 
 loved Olivia; and he favoured the idea of such a mar 
 riage. For he thought Olivia too self-reliant and too 
 authoritative for her sex, and expected her to find in 
 Nathaniel's strong character and will a force sufficient 
 to make her obedient to him. Indeed, the only point in 
 which Asa considered Quakerism vulnerable to mortal 
 criticism was its acknowledgment of the spiritual equality 
 of men and women. Asa was willing that God should 
 speak to women, but he was not willing that women 
 should be in any respect God's messengers to his 
 own sex.
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 83 
 
 He had been much struck with Nathaniels determina 
 tion and authority in the case of John Whitehead. He 
 felt sure that he was exactly suited to keep Olivia in that 
 gentle but positive subjection which he thought was not 
 only the natural but the wisest state for women. So, 
 though he had been told by Roger to admit no one 
 into the house during his absence, he made bold to read 
 the order in the light of his own judgment, and to give 
 Nathaniel the opportunity for a little private conversation 
 with Olivia. 
 
 " Friend Roger is gone to neighbour Gill's, but thou 
 canst talk with Olivia ; and if thou hast anything to say, 
 say it quickly. I am thy friend in this matter, for I have 
 turned the fleece on both sides. Now, therefore, if thy 
 mind is made up, seasonably insist upon it." 
 
 Nathaniel did not receive this advice as kindly as its 
 interest warranted. Olivia was so set apart in his own 
 mind that he could not endure that others should specu 
 late about her affairs or her future, especially where that 
 future touched a subject so personal as his love for her. 
 He answered Asa's advice by asking precisely the same 
 question he would have asked had the advice not been 
 given : " Is Mistress Prideaux within the house? " Asa 
 was " led to think so ; " but about women and their ways 
 he never ventured on any statement more positive. 
 
 Nathaniel went at once to the dining-room. He 
 opened the door with the quick, decided movement 
 natural to all his actions. Olivia sat in a chair by the 
 window. John de Burg sat near her. He had a book 
 in his hand and was reading aloud. In a moment the 
 scene changed. Olivia came a step forward to meet 
 him, and John de Burg rose and laid the volume upon 
 Olivia's work-table. Her face was suffused with blushes, 
 her manner confiding and yet deprecatory.
 
 84 FRIEND OLI-VIA, 
 
 " Nathaniel, thou art welcome. This is Harald Sandys, 
 the cousin of thy friend who died at Marston Moor. He 
 was mercifully spared, and, being in danger, has been 
 led to select the old home as a good place of safety. 
 Nathaniel, from thee he has nothing to fear, I know." 
 
 John . bowed so profoundly as to suggest a defiance or 
 an impertinence. The eyes of the two men met, and, 
 swift as the firing of a gun, the pupils of both dilated 
 with anger. Nathaniel's flashed with a blue flame, and 
 the blood rushed crimson over his face and brow. For 
 it was a glance of recognition to him. He was sure that 
 he saw John de Burg, and he knew why he had been 
 sent to Sandys. 
 
 John was the only person at ease in the situation. He 
 lifted a volume of George Herbert and began to read 
 stray lines and couplets from it, and to invite Olivia to 
 comment upon them : 
 
 " Dare to be true : nothing can need a lie ; 
 A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby." 
 
 John found an illustration of this dictum in his own ex 
 perience. He made Olivia confess that it had been 
 better for him as Harald Sandys than it would have 
 been had he assumed another name. He kept to this 
 subject with a persistence which drove Nathaniel to the 
 verge of passionately assailing his identity ; for in the few 
 minutes' observation of his face while speaking, Nathaniel's 
 insight had changed suspicion into certainty. 
 
 The fine profile of almost savage intensity was the 
 De Burg profile, exaggerated by John's especially wicked 
 character. The eyes sombre, tawny in colour, cold and 
 sinister in expression, moved in the same bluish opal that 
 made Anastasia's soft orbs so remarkable. He carried 
 his head high, with the same domineering look which
 
 ANASTAS1A AND OLIVIA. 85 
 
 distinguished all the De Burgs. He had also their full, 
 abrupt voice ; but the cool stare, blushless as that of a 
 bull, was doubtless a quality which he owed entirely to 
 his own shameless cultivation of it. 
 
 The desultory reading and conversation went on for 
 about ten minutes, during which time Nathaniel was 
 observing and deciding. Suddenly into the strained, 
 suspicious atmosphere came the sound of a shrill, gay 
 voice, the tapping of light heels upon the stone passage, 
 the swish and rustle of trailing silk garments. Olivia 
 stood up pale and discomposed, while a quick intelli 
 gence as to the interruption flashed into John de Burg's 
 face. This circumstance was instantly noted by Nathan 
 iel ; so that the final confirmation of Anastasia's entrance 
 was scarcely needed by him. She advanced trippingly, 
 with the prettiest courtesy and the brightest smiles. 
 
 "Mistress Prideaux, I am hugely pleased to see you. 
 Faith, I thought I never would come at you ! There is 
 a stupid old man at your door who would have denied 
 me entrance at all points, had I let him. Captain 
 Kelder, you look yourself to a miracle. Pray, do you 
 ever mean to smile again?" 
 
 She had taken Olivia's hand, and was gazing into the 
 girl's face with all the inquisitive mockery of her nature ; 
 but by this time Olivia was quite composed. It had 
 taken her but a moment to reflect that Harald Sandys 
 could be in no political danger from Mistress de Burg ; 
 and she said with a grave, sweet manner, "Doubtless 
 Harald Sandys is known to thee. We have been favoured 
 to give him help in trouble." 
 
 " All who suffer for the king are known to me," an 
 swered Anastasia ; and she gave her hand to her brother 
 with a face full of conflicting feeling, though Nathaniel 
 perceived that the humour of the situation was predomi-
 
 86 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 nant, and that the girl had much to do to prevent herself 
 turning it into an occasion for mirth. A glance from her 
 brother brought her to reason, and with the utmost 
 manner of a fine lady, she said, 
 
 " I am but a bad neighbour, Mistress Prideaux, and 
 you have good reason to be rude to me now, but to say 
 truth, I have been hindered from coming a score of 
 times ; for I assure you that I have not fallen out with 
 all the world because the Lord Protector and my Cousin 
 Kelder cannot agree with me. Yet truly" and she 
 looked at Nathaniel with eyes full of reproachful sad 
 ness "I have been tempted to fly from so many 
 unkind circumstances. 'T is said the king hath ever 
 a welcome for a merry heart, and I hear there is a ship 
 lying off this coast for some who will take refuge with 
 him." 
 
 This last piece of information was given with a mean 
 ing glance at her brother, and Nathaniel instantly under 
 stood why Olivia had received a visit from Mistress de 
 Burg. John's ship was waiting for him, and she had 
 come to give him the information. Having done so she 
 turned the conversation with a rapid and graceful adroit 
 ness upon the weather and the flowers and the gentle 
 woman whom she was going to visit as she passed 
 through Milnthorpe. Her name again brought up that 
 of the king ; and John, either carelessly or as a matter of 
 defiance, spoke of the Protector as "Old Noll." 
 
 The very atmosphere of the room was tingling and 
 provocative. John, in the sense of the security afforded 
 by the near presence of his ship, assumed an attitude in 
 describably irritating. Anastasia's conversation was full 
 of covert innuendoes, thinly veiled by an almost offensive 
 politeness. Nathaniel's face showed that he had made 
 his last concession to the social courtesies the situation
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 87 
 
 demanded. Then Olivia, whose repose of manner and 
 low voice had been in singular contrast to the restless, 
 irritable spirit of her visitors, rose, and saying something 
 about "refreshments," left the room. For eating and 
 drinking together has ever been the English fetish for 
 averting quarrels, or for their reconciliation. 
 
 As she closed the door John and his sister went to-* 
 ward an open window ; but Nathaniel, who was radiating 
 anger as a lamp radiates light, could restrain himself no 
 longer. 
 
 "John de Burg," he said, "go at this moment, or I 
 will arrest you in the name of the Commonwealth." 
 
 " My excellent cousin, John is now ready to go. The 
 pretty Quakeress has served his turn." It was Anastasia 
 who spoke, facing him suddenly with her sweeping cour 
 tesy and her scornful smile. Her brother's countenance 
 was an epitome of every evil passion, and he instantly 
 supplemented his sister's words with the remark, 
 
 " I am going on my own orders, not on yours." 
 
 He was counting some gold as he spoke ; and as he 
 put it in his pouch he glared at Nathaniel with an im 
 pudent and rancorous leer, and added, " I am in your 
 debt, Cousin Kelder. I will pay you. I will pay you 
 well. By every devil in hell, I swear it ! " 
 
 Nathaniel's hand was on his sword ; he was in the 
 act of advancing, when John by a rapid leap through 
 the window evaded the intended arrest. Anastasia 
 instantly placed herself in the way. She was the incar 
 nation of rage, and through her set teeth she hissed at 
 him the first contemptuous words which came to the 
 relief of her passion. They were too unwomanly to be 
 answered, and Nathaniel heard them with profound 
 shame and sadness. They ended, as such words gener 
 ally do, in a threat,
 
 88 FRIEND' OLIVIA. 
 
 " John will pay you, sir, for these two minutes ; and 
 I will help him." 
 
 "Anastasia, you will do as you desire in the future. 
 At this moment you will do as I desire ; that is, you 
 will leave Sandys at once. You have shamefully wronged 
 its kindness and goodness. Make your adieus when 
 Mistress Prideaux comes in. You shall not eat and drink 
 with her. You are unworthy to be in her presence." 
 
 " The sweet saint ! So that is the way the wind blows, 
 is it?" 
 
 He did not answer her ; and she continued her pas 
 sionate tirade, making both her face and her body part 
 ners with her tongue in the expression of her contempt 
 and hatred. 
 
 " The canting little Quakeress ! " with a snap of her 
 long white fingers. " I am to do her honour and horn- 
 age, am I? " with a scornful courtesy to the words. 
 
 " Only make your . respects to her as quickly as 
 possible." 
 
 " Faith, sir ! I will make no respects to her. Too 
 much grace for the simpering ' thee ' and ' thou ' ; " and 
 with the contempt of the words defacing and darkening 
 her beautiful face, she passionately flung open the door 
 and left him. 
 
 The temper of her departure she cared not to hide ; 
 and amid the hurry and clatter of carriage doors and 
 carriage horses it was easy to distinguish the imperious 
 tones of her shrill, clear voice. 
 
 In the height of the turmoil Olivia returned to the 
 room. She had in her hands a small silver tray holding 
 a seed-cake and some cowslip wine. Her plain black 
 dress and the snowy purity of its deep lawn cuffs and 
 neckerchief accentuated the slight flush upon her cheeks. 
 Her clear eyes were troubled; her gentle manner had
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 89 
 
 lost something of its serene repose. She looked at Na 
 thaniel curiously, and then noticed that he was alone. 
 
 " It seemeth as if something was wrong. Was it 
 indeed Mistress de Burg who left in such anger ? Where 
 is Harald Sandys? Surely thou hast not been quarrel 
 ling with them, Nathaniel?" 
 
 " The man who was here is not fit for your presence. 
 I have sent him away." 
 
 " Thou art angry, and thou art going too far. My 
 father's wisdom passeth for a general report, and he 
 thinketh well of the young man." 
 
 " But I know him to be only evil." 
 
 " We are forbidden to judge, and Harald Sandys " 
 
 " He is not Harald Sandys ; he is the brother of 
 Mistress de Burg." 
 
 "John de Burg? " 
 
 She could hardly ask the question, and Nathaniel 
 answered her only by a movement of affirmation. The 
 horror of the girl was unmistakable, though she sat down 
 and remained for some moments motionless. It was 
 evident John de Burg's history was known to her, and 
 indeed Nathaniel had little to add in explanation of his 
 conduct. For, knowing all, Olivia saw at once that it 
 was the only possible course ; and she was the first to 
 speak of what had hitherto escaped Nathaniel's notice, 
 the possibility of her father getting into trouble with 
 the Government for sheltering its outlaw. 
 
 " My father did it willingly ; for nine days he has 
 sheltered him. He also asked from Edward D'Acre a 
 change of clothing for him. Oh, Nathaniel ! my heart 
 misgives me sorely." 
 
 Nathaniel looked at the sorrowful girl, and his heart 
 ached to comfort her. Words of affection sprang to his 
 lips; but he would not, at their first outflow, mingle
 
 90 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 them with words of fear and wrong. Besides, he saw 
 that Olivia was inclined to silence. She was waiting for 
 a greater Comforter and Counsellor than himself. So 
 he went away from Sandys soon after Anastasia, and 
 rode slowly toward his home by the road on which he 
 expected to meet Roger Prideaux. 
 
 He was very much disturbed and depressed ; appre 
 hensions came in crowds, and the low, melancholy tones 
 of the bleating flocks seemed to voice them. He met 
 Roger about five miles from Sandys. His broad face, 
 shrewd and homely, had not its usual benignity ; indeed, 
 it had the expression of a man who had worries of his 
 own. Nathaniel told him plainly whom he had been 
 entertaining, and the manner in which he had rid him 
 of his guest. The news startled "and troubled Roger; 
 yet it was not altogether bad, for he confessed that he 
 had been anxious about the man's right to Sandys, and 
 had entered into an obligation to buy that right for a 
 sum of ready money. And he had just been to a wealthy 
 neighbour's to obtain a temporary loan for the purpose, 
 as the claimant, he said, had become uneasy to get for 
 ward on the king's business. 
 
 " It is most certain, Roger, that your guest was John 
 de Burg; and that after trespassing upon your home, 
 he intended to rob you of your money. I have no doubt 
 he fell a-laughing at you a dozen times a day." 
 
 " God forgive him ! " 
 
 " I would at once convey to the proper officers all 
 particulars of this affair. I fear, otherwise, that it may 
 be made an occasion against you." 
 
 " What time hath passed since the man left Sandys? " 
 
 "About two hours." 
 
 " Then he is manifestly beyond arrest. I doubt not 
 there was a small boat waiting at the nearest point for
 
 AN AST AS I A AND OLIVIA. 91 
 
 him. He is on his own ship by this time. I will seek 
 after counsel and clearness before I speak abroad of the 
 matter." 
 
 " It is such a matter as may be severely dealt with." 
 
 " It is indeed a weighty and perplexing dispensation ; 
 but I trust that I shall be given to see the right way. 
 Whom dost thou fear? Speak plainly." 
 
 " Mistress de Burg." 
 
 Roger smiled dubiously. " She hath her own plans ; 
 they touch not me or mine, I think. And I have proved 
 that the strength of silence is greater than the strength 
 of speech." 
 
 Then they parted ; Nathaniel full of a vague trouble, 
 yet in sacerdotal sympathy with all around him. The 
 soft gray afternoon was fast merging into a dull red on 
 the horizon, the hedgerows were growing indistinct, the 
 wider landscape was a dim outline of light and shadow. 
 Soon the vapours rolling down the valleys made the 
 lonely scene more lonesome. The events of the day 
 fitted themselves into it ; the singular impression which 
 sent him to Sandys, John de Burg's threat of injury, 
 Anastasia's words of scorn and hate, all grew remote 
 and indistinct as the natural world around him ; while the 
 dull heavy sound of the sea, its confused tones, its sigh 
 ing surges, seemed the indistinct utterance of his own 
 unutterable emotions. And as he approached Kelderby 
 the moon rose, and in its light he was conscious of a 
 strange backward prescience, a mysterious memory of 
 some existence where the sandy shores were longer, and 
 the hills far higher, and the sense of life more sweet 
 and strong. 
 
 It was strange that amid all these thoughts Olivia had 
 no distinct pre-eminence ; for the soul is not always on its 
 watch-tower, it has periods of carelessness, for which
 
 92 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 it often sorrows with a hopeless regret. And no intima 
 tion of what followed on his leaving Sandys troubled 
 Nathaniel. He had seen the departure of John and 
 Anastasia de Burg, and it never entered his mind that 
 either of them would return. But he knew nothing of 
 the nature of a woman like Anastasia. Before she had 
 quite reached Milnthorpe the Devil whispered a few 
 words in her heart which turned the tempest of her 
 passion into a sudden calm. 
 
 "Why not?" she asked. "Why not? If he is still 
 there, I will confront them both. I will claim his hand, 
 and vow I had his promise. The little saint will be so 
 much of a woman as to believe me. If he is not there, 
 I can say whatever pleaseth me. Yes, I will grant my 
 self this gratification. I can rest all night at Milnthorpe 
 with Mistress Cecil. Faith, I will not go back to De 
 Burg owing myself so much." 
 
 Instantly she turned the carriage back to Sandys. 
 Fortunately, Olivia saw her approach while she was yet 
 at some distance, and her well- trained mind instantly 
 began to subdue itself to a settled calm and purpose. 
 Anastasia fully expected to find her in tears and dis 
 traction, for she reasoned thus : " If Nathaniel has de 
 livered her so much of my affairs as to explain that 
 Harald Sandys is John de Burg, she will be weeping out 
 her horror to him. If he has not told her, they have 
 probably quarrelled on the seciecy of the affair. Do 
 Quakers quarrel ? 'T is a point of indifference ; for 
 if she speech not her anger, it will nest in her heart and 
 breed more and worse." 
 
 Asa Bevin met her at the door with a doubly forbid 
 ding aspect. But his deliberate speech and manner 
 was no impediment to the resolute woman. She had 
 passed him before his first words of remonstrance were
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 93 
 
 uttered, and again Olivia heard her rapid tread upon 
 the flagged passage, and again saw her enter the room 
 in a still more exaggerated flurry of rustling silk and 
 flying ribbons. 
 
 She was dashed by its perfect stillness and order. 
 The wine and cake had been removed. Every chair 
 v.i3 in its place. Olivia sat with her hands dropped on 
 her lap, gazing out of the windov/. She rose courteously 
 as Anastasia approached, but with an air of reserve, and 
 waited for her visitor to address her. 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux, I left in something of a hurry ; 
 for, to say truth, Captain Kelder roused in me more 
 temper than I usually carry about. To speak plainly, 
 you must know that he hath the promise of my hand, 
 a promise which lately he values too little. I am ad 
 vised that you are the excuse for his unkindness." 
 
 " I am sorry thou thinkest so unworthily of him, and 
 of me. I have given thee no reason." 
 
 " Marry ! I believe you not. Captain Kelder is such 
 a man as would be beyond the nay- say of a girl of your 
 breeding and condition." 
 
 " My breeding teaches me to take no man into my 
 thoughts until he has sought them with honour." 
 
 "That is beyond Captain Kelder. He is already 
 promised." 
 
 " And my condition is one that may ask civility, even 
 from thee." 
 
 " I tell you plainly that Captain Kelder is bound to 
 me. You have no right to entertain him." 
 
 "Thou art going too far. Thou must keep to thy 
 own rights." 
 
 " I will take no correction from you." 
 
 "But thou must in this matter. My father's guests 
 are to be entertained by me."
 
 94 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Captain Kelder is a liar and a villain. You ought to 
 give me credit for the warning. I '11 swear I cried for 
 you when I saw him here." 
 
 " I am sorry thou hast such evil thoughts. And if 
 Nathaniel Kelder hath been false to thee, then truly it is 
 best to weep for thyself." 
 
 " Oh, you cunning Quaker wench ! Faith, but you are, 
 clever in bandying words ! " 
 
 Olivia turned slightly from her but did not speak. 
 
 " Answer me ! " 
 
 " I am forbidden to give railing for railing." 
 
 " Day of the Devil ! You shall answer me ! " 
 
 " I will have no quarrel with thee. Be pleased to re 
 move thyself from my presence." 
 
 So far both had remained standing. Olivia now re 
 turned to her chair. Anastasia made an attempt to fol 
 low her example, but the impetuosity of her passion 
 would not brook the constraint of the posture. She 
 stood, she walked, she stood again before the girl she 
 was torturing, feeling a certain dominance in the attitude 
 which increased her insolence. 
 
 " I will go anon, when I am ready. Do you know 
 that you are in my power, under my feet ? For I shall 
 please myself with giving information against you. Yes ! 
 it takes a Quakeress to hide a handsome malignant plot 
 ting against the Commonwealth. Faith ! you shall pay 
 sweetly for the pleasure of Harald Sandys's company." 
 
 " Thou art not speaking the truth. Thou knowest 
 that Harald Sandys was never here at all." 
 
 " With your gracious leave I will affirm he was ! 
 'T was your own tongue told the lie, and it puts me 
 in a humour of delight to confirm it." 
 . " Thou knowest well that I was deceived, and that it 
 was thy own wicked brother."
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 95 
 
 " It was my ' own wicked brother ? ' Lord ! 
 I would give my golden scent-coffer if my 'own 
 wicked brother ' could hear you. John de Burg in the 
 3eat of the godly, listening to experiences, favoured with 
 an evidence, waiting for counsels, and feeling drawn 
 toward thee all the while ! It is most delectable. You 
 sweet saint ! Do you know what you will have to pay 
 for this honour ? John is a luxury. Outlaws cost money. 
 Pray, did he make love to you? Did he vow that for 
 your sake he would forswear murdering and practise 
 praying? And is Nathaniel, the dear religious youth, 
 jealous of him? Lord ! I shall die with the fun of it. 
 T will serve me to laugh at for seven years to come." 
 
 At this moment Asa Bevin entered the room. He 
 cast his eyes first upon Olivia. She had covered her 
 face with her hands, but she was not weeping. She had 
 only shut Anastasia from her sight, in order that she 
 might the more easily be deaf to her reviling and centre 
 her whole consciousness upon Him who could hide her in 
 a pavilion from the strife of tongues. The perfect still 
 ness of her attitude relieved Asa ; he felt that she had 
 retired into a peace beyond the fretful fever and stir of 
 this world, and he turned suddenly upon Anastasia : 
 
 " Thy chariot is waiting, and thou must go." 
 
 She looked with contemptuous anger at the little old 
 man in his prim garments and tall stiff hat, and asked, 
 
 " Pray, who may you be ? The goldsmith from Paul's 
 Walk, eh?" 
 
 " I am not bound to tell thee my name, but so far I 
 will humour thy poor pride. I am Asa Bev.in, house- 
 steward to Roger Prideaux. Thy chariot is waiting, and 
 thou must go." 
 
 " Base-born churl ! Off with your hat in my presence ! " 
 
 " A good man is the son qf the living God, and it ig a
 
 96 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 crime in thee to call him ' base.' And thou mightst as 
 reasonably bid me off with my coat as my hat. I will 
 off with neither in thy presence Wilt thou go? Or shall 
 I send thy men for Stephen de Burg to bring thee to thy 
 own place?" 
 
 "What say you, fellow? Out of my way ! I have a 
 month's mind to make my men flog you for an insolent 
 Quaker rogue. Mistress Prideaux, remember this zpth 
 of May. You shall date many an evil day from it. Fel 
 low, open the door ! I am thankful to escape this pes 
 tilent house. And tell your master I will haste to do 
 him all the mischief I can." 
 
 " Thou wilt do what thou art permitted to do, and no 
 more. The wrath of man ay, even the wrath of woman 
 shall praise Him, and the rest of the wrath He will 
 restrain." 
 
 " I will move heaven and earth for his ruin." 
 
 " Heaven and earth are God's, not thine." 
 
 " A pack of snivelling, canting, Quaker knaves ! " 
 
 "Canst thou not speak without snarling dog- words? 
 The Lord rebuke thee." 
 
 " You are an impudent varlet. I swear I will bring 
 you down to extremities." 
 
 " Well, then, Christ for my share." 
 
 Asa was growing calmer at every threat, and the angry 
 woman, feeling her impotence against his steady soul, 
 was glad when the clashing of her chariot-door and the 
 trampling of her horses' feet gave her the semblance of 
 a triumphant escape from the scene of her shameful as 
 sault. For though she had met with so little resistance, 
 she felt herself to be utterly defeated and humiliated. 
 
 Roger met her in the park. He stood aside to per 
 mit the chariot to pass and caught a glance of the hand 
 some angry face within it. He had also a presentiment
 
 ANASTASIA AND OLIVIA. 97 
 
 that it was Anastasia de Burg, and a sudden fear for his 
 daughter made him hasten his steps. But when he en 
 tered the parlour there was no trace of the stormy act of 
 which it had just been the scene. Asa was directing the 
 spreading of the evening meal, a servant was putting 
 fresh logs upon the fire, Olivia sat in the hearth-light 
 knitting. The homely duties quieted him. When his 
 eyes saw them his lips uttered a blessing. But he sat 
 long with his child that night, talking over the events of 
 the day, for they felt that the situation was one involving 
 danger and trouble. 
 
 " How forcible are right words ! " said Job. But he 
 might have said, with equal truth, How forcible are 
 wrong words ! It was impossible to exorcise the in 
 fluence which Anastasia had scattered abroad. The 
 room retained the clamorous echoes, the atmosphere of 
 unrest and fear and hate, with which it had been charged 
 by the passionate woman. So the stillness and peace of 
 the upper chambers was a sensible relief. Roger shut 
 the door of his bedroom and then asked himself, 
 
 "Why art thou so heavy, O my soul? Thou art 
 girded round by God. This is the rest that never can 
 be shaken." 
 
 Olivia was equally glad of the change. She stood 
 motionless a few minutes in the centre of the spotlessness 
 and peace of her sanctuary ; but she was conscious of a 
 great inward tumult. Anastasia's bitter words still stung 
 her soul, and she could hardly restrain the sharp low 
 cries that would fain have voiced her suffering. If Anas 
 tasia spoke truth, then how false was Nathaniel Kelder ! 
 
 The first sorrow of womanhood had found her out. 
 Its restless pain amazed and terrified her, and for a few 
 moments she gave way to the passionate fear and love in 
 her heart. She trembled like a reed in a great wind, 
 
 7
 
 98 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and the word " Nathaniel ! " broke through her closed 
 lips. At the sound she fell upon her knees and buried 
 her face in the white drapery of her couch. It was the 
 revelation of mortal love, and its first monitions filled her 
 with fear. Was she indeed putting the creature before 
 her Creator? a mortal man before Him whom her soul 
 loved, and who had loved her from everlasting? 
 
 With a swift abnegation, with eyes raining tears, she 
 resigned everything, gave up all her will, and all her de 
 sire, and all the sweet thoughts of love that had sprung 
 up within her heart. Then a great calm encompassed 
 her, and her soul refreshed itself in waves of peace and 
 joy that came, as come the winds of God, whence, and 
 how, unknown to mortal comprehension.
 
 VI. 
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. 
 
 " King of the Pelasgians, various are the ills of men ; nowhere canst 
 thou behold the same wing of trouble." 
 
 " But every one bears a ready evil tongue, . . . and to speak slander is 
 an easy thing." 
 
 / ~PHE village of Kelderby consisted of about fifty 
 * cottages clustered around the church and its 
 burial-yard. It was inhabited chiefly by shepherds and 
 husbandmen ; the fishers and shrimp-gatherers dwelling 
 in a smaller hamlet below the cliff, almost upon the sea- 
 sands. The two hamlets were known in the neighbour 
 hood as Upper and Lower Kelder ; but the village had 
 no market, and no special industry, neither was it upon 
 any great highway, only a pretty, lonely place, as nat 
 ural to its locality as the bluebells were to the hills 
 around it. 
 
 As Nathaniel rode through the winding street a pleas 
 ant sense of its homeliness fell upon his heart. The calm, 
 serious men, smoking on the stone benches by their cot 
 tages, and the women with their arms folded under their 
 aprons, both alike gave him a cheerful " Good e'en, 
 sir." And the little lads and lasses playing " How far 
 to Babylon?" stopped their game a moment to doff 
 their worsted caps or drop a courtesy to him. And in 
 the dim, misty gloaming the men and the women and 
 the elfish- looking children affected him very much like
 
 IOO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 figures seen in a dream. He knew them, and the)' 
 knew him ; but the far-off, sensitive mood of his mind 
 gave to all the unreality and remoteness of a vision of 
 the night. 
 
 When he entered the park he made an effort to fling 
 off this unworldlike phantasm, and with the help of a 
 brisk gallop he entered Kelderby in a more lively and 
 vigilant temper. The house was still and duskish. It 
 was just the moment at which it might, or might not, be 
 lighted for the evening ; and as it happened Jael was in 
 the more lingering humour. 
 
 The sitting-room was empty, and though the baron's 
 chair by the window held a volume by Mr. Richard Bax 
 ter, it had the air of a book which did not expect to be 
 talked with again that night ; and Lady Kelder's wheel 
 by the hearth wore also the same aspect of loneliness. 
 Nathaniel had prepared himself for sympathy, and he felt 
 disappointed. However, he guessed that his mother was 
 in her own room, and he went thither. His light, de 
 cided tap was instantly recognized : 
 
 " Come in, Nathaniel." 
 
 There was extreme sadness in her voice, and Nathaniel 
 opened the door with an uncertain fear. Lady Kelder 
 knelt by her dower chest ; her elbows were upon it, her 
 brows rested against her folded hands ; a book lay below 
 them, and Nathaniel, seeing it, understood the pathetic 
 resignation of her attitude. He knew that if he should 
 lift it he would find the " Prayer on the Death of a 
 Child," wet and crinkled with tears, especially at the 
 top of the page which had been turned to for its 
 " Consolation " : 
 
 " If it stayed not here to enjoye Pleasure, soe neither did it 
 Stay to be pined away with Sorrow and Care. It lived not 
 long enough to be versed in all the Vexations of our State,
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. IOI 
 
 nor to run thro' that Great Varietie of Miseryes and Misfor 
 tunes which are incident here to our Nature : But went off 
 before it had time to trye how much evil is to be Endured in 
 this Life ; yes, before it was come to aggravate any afflictions 
 by imagination, or to anticipate the same by Fear, or to reflect 
 in bitterness of Spirit, aad lay to heart what it did endure." 1 
 
 " My dear, dear mother ! " 
 
 He stooped and gently removed her folded hands, and 
 lifted her wet face and kissed it. " My mother, my dear 
 mother ! " 
 
 " It is twenty years ago to-day, Nathaniel. Surely you 
 have not forgotten ! I can see them taking her to her 
 burial. Down that path they went," and she rose and 
 looked from the window ; " the coffin was covered with 
 hawthorns and lilies, and twelve of her companions, 
 wearing white lawn, carried her. They were singing as 
 they went ; and, oh, Nathaniel, I hear their voices now ! 
 It was such a lovely afternoon, and the sounds filled the 
 garden. The lilac-trees were all abloom ; if they could 
 speak they would tell you they had not forgotten." 
 
 " Mother, noae of us have forgotten. But should we 
 weep for her ? Think of all she has gained, and of all 
 she has missed." 
 
 " Missed ? Yes, the child-bearing and the child-los 
 ing ; the vain cares, the still vainer hopes ; the terror of 
 griefs looked for, the agony of those that come ; all the 
 wrongs of wifehood, all the bitter wrongs of motherhood, 
 she is well out of them. Little joy has earth, and 
 much sorrow, much and hard sorrow." 
 
 Nathaniel could not answer. He only drew her close 
 to his side and kissed her wet eyelids ; and as he did so 
 the tears filled his own eyes, and he said to his soul, 
 " Oh, wonderful mother-love ! " 
 
 1 " Deathe made Comfortable." Devotional book of sixteenth 
 century.
 
 IO2 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Come, we will go to the parlour. The dead wish not 
 to wrong the living." 
 
 She cooled her face with some sweet-marjoram water, 
 and then put her arm through her son's. Slowly they 
 went together down the wide oak stairway, making 
 though they thought not of it as charming a picture as 
 any Mr. Lely ever painted, the aging mother in her 
 black-silk dress and hood of white lace shading her white 
 hair ; the son, tall and strong, in high boots and Spanish 
 leather, and a handsome doubtlet of black velvet. 
 
 The baron was standing on the hearth gazing into the 
 fire. As they entered he turned his face to them with a 
 smile. The waiting-men instantly began to serve supper. 
 Jael stood at her lady's chair with her shawl and foot 
 stool. As the two women met they looked understand- 
 ingly at each other. Jael had been weeping also. She 
 had been the dead girl's nurse. But, O mystery of Life, 
 from what lowly depths proceed thy comforts ! Lady 
 Kelder on sitting down saw by her plate a handful of wild- 
 flowers, and her white face flushed, and a gleam of happi 
 ness and hope came into it, a few primroses and violets 
 and some leaves of rosemary, tied with a band of scented 
 ribbon-grass. She looked gratefully into her husband's 
 eyes, and perceived that while she had been weeping in 
 her chamber he had been to the grave to weep there. 
 The rosemary grew at its head, her own hands had 
 planted the primroses that starred the turf, and the vio 
 lets that made it sweet. The father-love had not forgot 
 ten either the child or the mother. 
 
 Nothing was said during the meal about Nathaniel's 
 sudden visit to Sandys, but as soon as possible afterward 
 he told the whole strange story. It made a most unhappy 
 impression ; and Lady Kelder, who was weary with emo 
 tion, very quickly grew fretful over it.
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. 103 
 
 " It is easy to sit still and look troubled, Odinel, but 
 what is to be done ? I asked you to let these De Burgs 
 alone ; I told you that it was dangerous and foolish to 
 help the wicked ; but you were wiser than seven wise 
 men that can render a reason, and I was not heeded." 
 
 " My dear Joan, it is not a question of wisdom, but of 
 kindness. God is good both to the evil and the righteous." 
 
 " Yes ; and God gets very unhandsomely treated for 
 being good to the evil. Did you expect you were to be 
 better served than the Almighty? It passes my patience 
 that men should ever be trying to imitate God's gener 
 osity without his omnipotence." 
 
 " My intentions must cover the mistake, if there be 
 one ; they were good and pure." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! I observe that mistakes are punished 
 without regard to intentions. Good intentions will be 
 but a poor rooftree when De Burg turns you out of your 
 home." 
 
 " Softly, softly, Joan. Why should you think that De 
 Burg will do such a thing? " 
 
 " Because it will give him pleasure to do it. See how 
 he has served Roger Prideaux, who never wrought him 
 harm, unless he raised his malice by buying Sandys." 
 
 " I think, with Nathaniel, that De Burg knew nothing 
 at all of John's deception. It was the doing of Anastasia. 
 No one hath a greater horror of his son's crimes than 
 Stephen de Burg." 
 
 " I am not so far gone in folly as to believe all that 
 Stephen de Burg says on that subject, furious, of 
 course, at whatever blacks the honour of his family, but at 
 the same time conceiving his family to be vastly superior 
 to the rest of the world. If there be trouble about this 
 affair, De Burg will go to Charles Stuart, and his forfeit 
 ure will be demanded of you."
 
 IO4 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " It will be to his interest to say nothing." 
 
 " Do you think Anastasia will take rest under the insult 
 of Nathaniel's dismissal? Truly she will not. And by 
 my faith ! I know not why Nathaniel should have inter 
 fered in the matter. 'T is the Quaker's bad broth, and 
 if Nathaniel thinks he can sup against the Devil and 
 the Quaker and the De Burg, he will need a long 
 spoon." 
 
 " Roger Prideaux is not to be put in such company, 
 Mother." 
 
 " Indeed, others are of my judgment. Sin is like poi 
 son, many kinds, but all in their measure deadly. 
 Stephen and Anastasia de Burg are of a quality differing 
 from Roger Prideaux, but all poison, all poison." 
 
 There were a few moments of painful silence ; then 
 Kelder, hoping to change the subject, said, " I met 
 D'Acre in the graveyard. He has had a stone of the 
 primest quality put over his father, and was looking to it, 
 a young man of a very sober humour, virtuous and dis 
 creet, I think." 
 
 " High time he remembered his father. He has been 
 taking a wife, and so forgot the leading virtue until he 
 had convenience." 
 
 " Nay, but he is forward in all honourable deeds. He 
 was discoursing with me over some new plot of the Fifth 
 Monarchy Men." 
 
 " By troth and faith ! I am right sorry for the Pro 
 tector. Between the Fifth Monarchy Men, who say the 
 Lord Christ is coming, and the Quakers, who say that he 
 is come and dwelling with them, he hath but a quar 
 relsome time." Then stooping forward and touching 
 Nathaniel's arm, she continued : " This concerns not us 
 in the main particulars ; our first duty is to secure Kel- 
 derby. That rests with you, Nathaniel. To-morrow go
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. 105 
 
 and see Anastasia. Better bring her to Kelderby as your 
 wife than lose Kelderby forever." 
 
 " Mother, how can I marry Anastasia, she being such 
 a woman as I have told you? " 
 
 " There is good and evil in her, as in all other women, 
 and I blame her not for her passion. Indeed, it was be 
 yond pardon to be put beneath that Quaker girl. And 
 one thing I see plainly, if we would save Kelderby it will 
 have to be by giving Anastasia an interest in it." 
 
 " There must be some other way, Mother. Such a 
 course would stand neither with God's word nor with my 
 own conscience." 
 
 " Joan, my dear heart ! We are but making and wid 
 ening breaches. Let us patiently digest what we have 
 heard until to-morrow. Clearer reason may come with 
 another day." 
 
 " Reason ! That is, guessing at right and wrong. What 
 is reason, pray? A twinkling little light, fooling men be 
 tween shade and shining. I have a feeling that I trust 
 beyond it, and it tells me that Kelderby can be saved 
 only by Nathaniel making Anastasia his wife." 
 
 " Peace \ and in God's name let the thought go. To 
 save stone and mortar shall we ruin our son ? No, Joan ! 
 If it come to the pinch you will say ' No,' and stand to it 
 firmer than any one." 
 
 The baron's tone and expression, more than his words, 
 silenced Lady Kelder. She had been supposing a calam 
 ity, the dread of which lay in her heart, for the sake of 
 having it contradicted. She had hoped that both her 
 husband and her son would ridicule her fear. It gave 
 her a shock to find that her threat was at once accepted 
 as a likelihood. She had at that hour no more courage 
 to gainsay anything, and a feeling of despair invaded 
 her.
 
 IO6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Then that impulse which makes us speak of trivial 
 things when the mind is occupied with some great affair 
 led Nathaniel to talk of additions to be made in the farm 
 offices, and the baron gave him such attention as he was 
 able to give ; but the influence of the circumstances was 
 inexorably dominant, their sombre eyes reflected it ; 
 their voices had the weary tones of those whose thoughts 
 are afar off; and as the fire burned low, and the day came 
 to an end, every word was toilsome, mysterious, weighed 
 down with the heaviness of anxious hearts. 
 
 Lady Kelder left the two men earlier than usual. She 
 was glad to escape to the more loquacious Jael, to whom, 
 sooner or later, she always unfolded her anxieties and 
 sorrows. Jael was truly shocked at the position in which 
 the baron's kindness and Nathaniel's rudeness to the De 
 Burgs had placed Kelderby. But though she had plenty 
 of sympathy she had very little tact in its appliance. 
 
 " God-a-mercy ! " she cried ; " 't was not for nothing 
 that the moles began burrowing about the house New 
 Year. Secret enemies and a flitting. I pray they go 
 not all round, and add death to it." 
 
 " Jael ! Jael ! It is wicked to bottom our expecta 
 tions on such things. How could a blind mole, that 
 sees not in the present, foresee the future?" But the 
 poor lady was in a tremor of sad confirmation, passion 
 ately denying what she tremblingly believed. 
 
 " Indeed, my Lady, the dumb animals carry God's 
 messages a long way better than man ; for, right or 
 wrong, man will add his own words to God's words. 
 The winged birds prophesy, say what you will against 
 it. I Ve seen enough myself. When Pierson had to 
 fly to Holland, a week afore he left the rats came by 
 hundreds to Pierson Hall, to summons him out. The 
 rooks knew when Squire Fell was to die. The sea-birds
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. JO/ 
 
 show the fishers what the weather will be, and where to 
 find the fish. Dogs and horses see spirits. Cocks tell 
 the time of day ; and when men were cowards all, one 
 of them covered shuffling Peter with shame. I think 
 a deal, my Lady, of what beasts and birds know." 
 
 " Then you think the moles know that we are to leave 
 Kelderby? Oh, Jael ! how could you tell me? " 
 
 "They may get back orders, my Lady. I bethink 
 me of much ill-luck turned to prosperation. The sen 
 tence had gone out against Nineveh, and there was a 
 free set by after it. Many lets and bars God puts in 
 a down way. And, my Lady, it is hard for ill-luck to 
 keep foot with prayer." 
 
 But the gift of prayer is not always in our power. 
 Words of fear, bearing Heaven a grudge at the bottom 
 of the heart, are not prayer ; and this was the definition 
 of Lady Kelder's present mood. But as day after day 
 went by, and nothing further was heard of John de 
 Burg, Anastasia's threats lost their terror and their sting. 
 Every one in Kelderby began to regard the event as 
 past and finished, and cut off from the life which was 
 now to go on as if it never had happened. Lady 
 Kelder again busied herself in her still room, the baron 
 resumed his pleasant communion with Nature and his 
 books, while Nathaniel began to wonder if he might not 
 with propriety pay another visit to Sandys. For the 
 thought of Olivia was with him night and day, and 
 the space dividing him from her was full of void and 
 heartache. 
 
 Anastasia had not, however, forgotten them ; she was 
 even contemplating with enjoyment this very condition 
 of affairs. " They think the evil has passed by ; " and 
 the smile upon her face was so happy that it might 
 have answered the sweetest and kindest of affections.
 
 108 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Hitherto she had passed for a gay and frivolous, good- 
 natured woman. No one suspected her of a capability 
 for malicious wickedness. But many bad people pass 
 for good people because they have not reached the 
 bottom of their character. Anastasia was herself sur 
 prised at her own persistence of wrath. She had ex 
 pected, even feared, that her anger would not serve 
 her long enough to carry out any plan of revenge. It 
 gave her a feeling of satisfaction to find that it had 
 grown steadily in will and intensity, and that a week's 
 interval had only intensified her hatred and her thirst 
 for revenge. 
 
 Her delay had arisen from two causes : first, she had 
 not been able to decide upon the course likely to give 
 the most trouble to Sandys and Kelderby and the least 
 to herself; secondly, her success, in any case, depended 
 upon her father's co-operation and sympathy, and she 
 was aware that there was a time to ask and a time 
 to forbear asking. In certain moods Stephen de Burg 
 would remember his cousin Kelder's kindness, and in 
 dignantly repudiate any ungrateful return. In other 
 moods he would regard the insult offered to his daugh 
 ter, not only as cancelling all good-will debt, but also 
 as an occasion for passionate retaliation ; and it was this 
 mood Anastasia was waiting for. 
 
 One afternoon, ten days after John de Burg had re 
 gained his freedom, Anastasia was sitting thinking of 
 him. Captain Bellingham had just left her, and Captain 
 Bellingham usually knew whatever happened in the 
 country-side. But though she had questioned him skil 
 fully, he had given her no news which held the faintest 
 suspicion of John's visit to his home. It was certain, 
 then, that he had reached the coast in safety, found the 
 waiting boat, and gained the security of his ship. At
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. 109 
 
 that hour he was probably hundreds of miles away from 
 his enemies. As for John de Burg, she was the only 
 soul that had knowingly seen him. She laughed merrily 
 to herself at the idea which suddenly flowed to her from 
 this circumstance. It seemed to her that she had found 
 the clew to a vengeance worthy of the wrong. 
 
 Her father entered in the midst of her private mirth. 
 He was in an equally jocund mood, having got the bet 
 ter of " some canting Roundheads " who required taxes 
 of him. " But I showed them that I was only a lodger 
 at De Burg, being there at the pleasure of their Com 
 monwealth ; and therein Sir John Freemantle said I 
 was right, and so on. Then comes Mr. Allen, and he 
 thinks the taxes should be collected of my security ; and 
 some fell a-laughing at the proposition, and some for- 
 soothed it ; but Sir John stood bravely by me, and the 
 case will stand finely. A pleasant day, Asia, and all 
 things else." 
 
 " I am extremely glad on it ; " and she touched the 
 strings of her lute lightly and sang, 
 
 " Lay by your pleading, 
 Love lies a-bleading ; 
 Burn all your poetry, 
 And throw away your reading. 
 Piety is painted, 
 Truth it is tainted, 
 Love is called a reprobate, 
 And Schism now is sainted." 
 
 The bright June sunshine was all over her, giving to 
 the brilliant colours of her silk gown the prismatic rays 
 of the peacock's feathers. Her black hair fell curling 
 over her shoulders and upon her warm, white neck and 
 bosom, and her hands sparkled with coloured gems as 
 they twinkled among the strings. She was the loveliest
 
 HO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 realization of a gay and brilliant woman, formed for the 
 delight of the senses and the enchantment of thought 
 less men. 
 
 De Burg watched her with pride and pleasant specu 
 lation, and she divined his thoughts ; for she suddenly 
 snapped the song in two, and said in a low voice, " Let 
 me tell you the secret of Sir John's complaisance, the 
 king comes soon to his own again." 
 
 He opened his eyes wide and flashed their intelli 
 gence into hers ; and she nodded back a charming 
 assurance ere she continued, " There 's a feel in the 
 air, a whisper in the wind, a bird in my breast, that 
 tells me so ; and, besides, a word from London that 
 confirms all." 
 
 " Old Noll hath caught an ague." 
 
 "He hath caught death." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "If we would have the full pay of our loyalty, you 
 know, we must go to the king. In the day of rewards 
 those who have done so will be remembered. As for 
 the general mass who wait for him to come to them, 
 they cannot expect any honour in particular. Faith, 
 sir ! before a year be gone, I warrant you, men and 
 women will be drinking the king's health upon their 
 knees in the market-places and on the house-tops." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "Go to the king." 
 
 " My cousin Kelder would have just cause to com 
 plain of me." 
 
 " We owe nothing but hatred and ill-will to cousin 
 Kelder, and with your good help I will pay it." 
 
 "What mean you?" 
 
 " Oh, I am deadly mad at them ! " Then she laid 
 down her lute, and carried a chair to her father's side.
 
 SORKO W HA TH MANY FEE T. Ill 
 
 "You must know, sir, that when I was but a maid in 
 ankle-shoes Nathaniel made love to me and vowed 
 me his hand." 
 
 " Pray, what did you want with the sour Puritan? " 
 
 " Indeed, that is one of the miracles. But now he 
 wants not me. He hath fallen into the toils of the 
 Quaker girl at Sandys." 
 
 " I have seen her. A month ago I met her with 
 D'Acre's wife ; a pretty pair of sucking doves, truly ! " 
 
 She laughed and clapped her sparkling hands together. 
 
 " Sucking doves ! Marry, sir ! Prideaux's girl hath 
 the temper of a wild-cat. She ordered me out of her 
 presence." 
 
 " Surely you joke, Asia ; and 't is a poor subject for 
 your mirth." 
 
 " Never trust me if I speak not the truth. I called 
 at Sandys for a purpose." 
 
 "For what purpose?" He asked the question per 
 emptorily ; for, like not a few men of small stature, he 
 not only was easily made angry, but was rancorous 
 when he had a grievance to avenge. " Pray, what pur 
 pose had you at the Quaker's house?" 
 
 She looked him steadily in the face and said, " I went 
 to see Harald Sandys." 
 
 "What foolery is this? Harald Sandys was killed 
 with his cousin at Marston battle." 
 
 " My Harald Sandys is, I hope, now so far out at sea 
 as to be beyond his enemies." 
 
 All mirth had vanished out of her face. She was in 
 a mood which demanded attention as she continued, 
 " Be so good as to listen to me. For your sake, 't is 
 all I shall ask, sir. 
 
 " Put it in the number of my sins that I kept secretly 
 for many weeks under your roof this gentleman, a
 
 112 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 fact that you will be best to forget, since it concerns 
 you not, and is beyond your advantage. But presently, 
 when there was like to be suspicion, I sent him to Roger 
 Prideaux ; for he hath an affectation of great kindness 
 for the old owners of the house he bought." 
 
 " The rogue fancies that dingy guineas, made in some 
 sort of mechanical work, can buy a right to an old estate 
 like Sandys, I had looked to add it to De Burg, as 
 was most natural. For only Bellingham lies between 
 us, and there is so much of ancient intermarriage as 
 would justify the king in making me heir where there 
 is no other heir. Oh ! I would have taken Sandys in 
 payment of all scores against him ; and then if it had 
 come into your mind to marry Bellingham, there would 
 have been an estate worthy of an earldom." 
 
 " I wonder not that you have ever been against this 
 Quaker." 
 
 " Nothing moves me to anger like his name." 
 
 " All goes well, then ; for now you have a good occa 
 sion to work Sandys out of an owner again. The 
 Quaker hath doubtless been harbouring a malignant, 
 whom he knew to be on the king's business." 
 
 " Make me wiser on the whole matter." 
 
 " 'Twas on the 2gth of last month. I went out, as I 
 commonly do, to ride. I took the way to Sandys, and at 
 the gates I bethought me of the civility of making a call 
 upon the strange lady there. Being come to the en 
 trance, a cross old man withstood me at all points, and 
 with many excuses ; but having determined to gratify 
 my curiosity, I would not be restrained, and, with such 
 apologies as left him far behind, I went to the parlour. 
 There I found Mistress Prideaux and Nathaniel Kelder, 
 and a man whom Mistress Prideaux, with much discom 
 posure, introduced to me as Harald Sandys, ' there being
 
 SOKRO W HA TH MANY FEE T. 113 
 
 nothing to fear,' she said, ' from one of my affection for 
 the king.'" 
 
 " Come, this grows hugely. Nathaniel is in the plot, 
 then?" 
 
 " So much belongs to the public ear. For your own 
 there is much more, if you care to listen." 
 
 " Oh, I will hear to the last comma." 
 
 " Nathaniel was so much annoyed at my visit that he 
 was hard set to give me the commonest courtesy ; and 
 when Mistress Prideaux went for a glass of wine for my 
 refreshment, he took the opportunity to insult me beyond 
 all patience or endurance." 
 
 "The grounds? " 
 
 " I had mentioned a ship lying off the coast, supposed 
 to be there for certain of his Majesty's friends, and he 
 turned on Sandys and called him John de Burg, order 
 ing both him and me to leave at the moment. He said, 
 moreover, that I was unfit and unworthy to sit in the 
 same room or to eat in the presence of Mistress Pri 
 deaux, and he bid me depart in such a way as left me 
 for the moment at his word, seeing that I would not, for 
 my own sake, prejudice the escape of the young man. 
 But I went back." 
 
 " Oh ! you went back? " 
 
 " And I found her alone." 
 
 De Burg laughed uproariously. " Did you take her 
 eyes out? " 
 
 " I promise you I am nothing in her debt." 
 
 The whole plot was as clear as daylight to De Burg ; 
 but there are none so blind as those who will not see, 
 and clearness of sight in this direction was neither to his 
 interest nor to his pleasure. He looked with something 
 of pity and something of admiration at the sullenly hand 
 some face of his daughter. He saw that her anger 
 
 8
 
 114 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 burned like a fire, and was likely to grow with the 
 thoughts it fed on. For though mortified feeling turns 
 to ridicule in cold natures, it turns to bitter hatred in 
 passionate ones ; and hatred, however it may punish 
 others, is self-punishment of the severest kind. 
 
 He rose and walked thoughtfully about the room. 
 Anastasia sat in the gloomy stillness of a soul stumbling 
 from thought to thought of angry love. For when she 
 began to hate Nathaniel, then she found out her love by 
 her hate. She could not forget his severe, youthful 
 beauty as he watched with gathering wrath the unfolding 
 of her guilty plot, and his grave rebuke added to it an 
 invincible grace. Her soul was tossed, as in a hurricane, 
 with scorn, anger, mortified love, and a burning longing 
 for revenge. 
 
 " Asia ! " 
 
 " Sir." 
 
 " What was, and is not, may be as if it never had been. 
 And of what it is unnecessary to speak we will speak no 
 more. This event begins with your visit to Mistress 
 Prideaux. Do you understand?" 
 
 " This moment. I have forgot everything before it." 
 
 " In all cases, and to every one, are you prepared to 
 stand to that condition?" 
 
 " I '11 swear to it." 
 
 " Other affairs fit into this one with a strange evidence. 
 'T is well known the Quakers have made many remon 
 strances to the Pro I mean to Old Noll, praying for 
 more justice than he gives them ; and also that they are 
 dissatisfied and disquieted at his indifference to their 
 complaints. 'T is likewise well known that the king has 
 been in communication with leading men of all parties 
 and all creeds, sending them promises of liberty in all 
 matters of conscience. We may suppose we have a
 
 SORROW HATH MANY FEET. 115 
 
 right to suppose that Harald Sandys's visit to Roger 
 Prideaux was as the king's emissary to the Quakers, 
 Prideaux being a man of wealth and weight among them. 
 And Old Noll's sickness has brought every one to a con 
 sideration of what is to come when he goes to the devil. 
 The eye of a Kendal magistrate will see a great matter 
 of treason in this affair, I '11 warrant it." 
 
 "But Nathaniel is he to go free? I wish him to 
 suffer, and this is nothing toward it." 
 
 " You have a woman's trick of seeing only one thing 
 at a time. Does your mind live in a lane ? Nathaniel 
 shall suffer on every hand and in every person. But I 
 foresee in this affair the conclusion of much and the be 
 ginning of more. The king must not come home before 
 we go to the king. We have lost too much to lose the 
 claim which entry with him will guarantee. Prepare, 
 then, for such a visit by giving your beauty the advance 
 ment of a flashing bravery of dress, for there is nothing 
 like making a show of gentry in his presently shabby 
 court. Thank your stars that I take this matter out of 
 your hands ; for it will require to take both wisdom and 
 patience with it." 
 
 " Oh, sir, I neither wish nor need for a better stand-by. 
 I can leave all in your care, with great contentment." 
 
 " And I swear you satisfaction. Faith ! in these dull 
 days of discontent it will be a great delight to me to turn 
 things a little upside down ; and as I owe you something 
 for the pleasure, you shall have my Lady Levin's Iceland 
 dog. I am advised that it is for sale." 
 
 Half an hour afterward Anastasia heard her father 
 ride away toward Kendal. She was not afraid, she was 
 not sorry, for the thing she had done. She went up 
 stairs, washed, dressed, and perfumed herself; but in all 
 her sweet coffers there was no wash or unguent for her
 
 Il6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 restless soul. Reckless and contradictious, sick with 
 a vague trouble which she would neither face nor 
 acknowledge, she muttered defiantly, 
 
 " Well, I have set the ball rolling. Where it will go, 
 and when it will stop, the Devil only knows ! "
 
 VII. 
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 
 " Find me a reasonable lover against his weight in gold." 
 
 " Upon my word, this day certainly has turned out both perverse and 
 adverse." 
 
 " If a woman has any malicious mischief to do, in that case her memory 
 is immortal in remembering it." 
 
 " To do good to the bad is a danger just as great as to do bad to the 
 good." 
 
 ' I "'HE day after this event Nathaniel made a visit to 
 * Sandys. It was now summer, but he remembered 
 so well the early spring, when Olivia Prideaux had come 
 to him as the living breath and spirit of the time. No 
 one notices the seasons like a lover. As they balance 
 their flight on the swift wings of night and day he makes 
 all their changes and events a sweet calendar of his hopes 
 and fears. For him there is then a mystery in the air, 
 filling it with a strange sensitiveness; the sunshine is 
 something more than the light of common day ; the lin 
 net's sweet babbling, the humid flash of the trickling 
 stream, the white butterfly's rhythmic measures, the still 
 ness of the summer noon, the snow-clad hills of winter, 
 every fair thing in the earth below, or the firmament 
 above, is but a fresh spelling of the beloved one's name 
 and excellences. 
 
 Nathaniel found Sandys open to the sunlight and per 
 fume of the garden. Roger sat at his desk, but the desk
 
 Il8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 was so close to the lifted window that the roses almost 
 touched his face and hands ; and the birds, twittering se 
 crets in the ivy above them, might as well have been in 
 the room. He was counting moneys and casting up ex 
 penses, doing the business with methodical thorough 
 ness, yet not insensible to the sweeter and fairer things 
 around him. 
 
 He lifted his eyes to the young man, and they had a 
 welcome in them. " I am glad to see thee, Nathaniel ; 
 thy last visit was such as might have asked another ere 
 this." 
 
 " I like not to talk over evil which is past ; let us not 
 speak of the man who troubled you. He is gone." 
 
 " I know not ; the great events of life are always sur 
 prises, Nathaniel." 
 
 " Surprises are what Mr. Baxter calls * godsends ; ' and 
 seeming good or seeming ill, they are still ' godsends ' and 
 not to be mistrusted." 
 
 " True ; all things are done well in the ordering of 
 unerring wisdom ; and God's ancient promise, ' As thy 
 days so shall thy strength be,' fits every occasion, joyful 
 or sorrowful. Yet I confess to thee that I have a strange 
 necessity upon me in regard to my affairs. I have had 
 warnings to set my house in order, yea, I have cause to 
 believe that there is some great change coming, and this 
 apprehension of duty has been on me for some time ; 
 but I leave all to God, and in this feeling I centre my 
 soul." 
 
 " Roger, will you give me Olivia for my wife ? I love 
 her with my whole heart." 
 
 " There is but one holdback in my mind ; thou hast 
 not yet joined the cause of truth, Nathaniel." 
 
 " I have not yet felt clear to do so, Roger, and without 
 this assurance "
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 1 19 
 
 " Stand still. No man can by searching find out God ; 
 only be willing and he will find out thee. Yet I think 
 surely thou art not far from the kingdom ; and in the 
 matter of Olivia, speak to her ; she shall lead us both." 
 
 Then with a heavy heart he dropped his head over his 
 book and resumed his calculations. He could ask no 
 better husband for his daughter, and personally Nathaniel 
 was very pleasant to him ; yet he sighed heavily, and the 
 pang of renunciation was exceeding bitter. This is the 
 way with all earthly desires granted, always the some 
 thing lacking, always the something taken ; and though 
 Roger was well pleased that Olivia should be Nathaniel's 
 wife, he could not contemplate without heartache the 
 days which had been and which soon might be no 
 more, the sweet, calm, loving days wherein he had 
 been everything to his child, her father, mother, lover, 
 and friend ; but he said nothing of his own loss, and 
 Nathaniel stopped not to consider it. 
 
 "Where is Olivia?" he asked with trembling eager 
 ness ; and the pathos of the father's voice and attitude 
 was lost in the simple satisfaction of his reply, 
 
 " An hour ago she went into the garden." 
 
 It was an old-fashioned garden full of turning walks 
 hedged high and close with privet and hazel bushes. 
 Narrow beds bordered with box ran under the hedges, 
 holding all the sweet fragile blossoms that love not the 
 hot sunshine. In an angle of one turning there was an 
 arbour cut in the thick green wall of privet, and there 
 Nathaniel knew he would be most likely to find Olivia. 
 
 He had a rapid, decided step, and doubtless she heard 
 him coining, yet she kept her eyes dropped upon the ex 
 quisitely small stitches she was sewing. She was dressed 
 in white, but the sunshine sifting through the green roof 
 f the arbour threw over the spotless lawn indescribable
 
 I2O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 rays of palest green shot with gold, melting into each 
 other, changing, passing away, like the tints of the sky at 
 evening. A large, handsome cat slept at her feet, but it 
 in no way detracted from the peace and freshness and 
 sweetness of the living picture. 
 
 " ' My love, my dove, my undefiled ! ' ' This strain of 
 the sacred canticle came into his heart, and tasted sweet 
 upon his lips. He said it over and over as he ap 
 proached the girl, and perhaps in some mysterious way 
 she felt the influence of the winged though voiceless 
 words, for her face was covered with a rosy light, and her 
 eyes were so full of her soul that the radiance from under 
 the dropped lids left a glow upon her cheeks. 
 
 He had purposed to say many things in preparation of 
 " the words ; " but when the heart is ready to speak it 
 needs no introduction, and before he was aware he had 
 said them. He took the work from her hands and 
 clasped her hands in his own ; he drew her close to his 
 side, and told the heavenly story of a heart which has 
 found the soul it loves. The low words, the embrace, the 
 kiss that spoke where all words failed, went to Olivia's 
 heart as the sunshine to the heart of a flower, or the 
 sweet, soft rain to its root. In that hour Nathaniel re 
 vealed her to herself; he interpreted the unknown lan 
 guage of her wistful longings ; he claimed her by some 
 inexplicable but indisputable right for his own, and with 
 shy, trembling happiness she acknowledged the claim. 
 So for a little while these two blissful mortals found their 
 lost Eden. 
 
 But it is in such hours that we all realize how impotent 
 is the language of earth. Though moved to more than 
 earthly rapture, they had nothing to say worthy of their 
 emotion. Foolish as the babbling of babies is the talk of 
 lovers, but it is a folly springing from a divine depth, -
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 121 
 
 a depth which no plummet of wisdom has sounded. The 
 oft-repeated words, the words half-spoken, the questions 
 asked with a look, the questions answered with a kiss, the 
 vague, glancing, broken language of lovers ! is it not as 
 eloquent and as wise in its foolishness as that sweet baby 
 prattle which between a mother and her child is wiser 
 than all wise words? Never till the soul is free from 
 fleshly bonds shall we tell the beloved how truly we love. 
 Never on earth shall we speak perfectly the language of 
 heaven. We can but stammer and blunder, or ask from 
 silence the pathetic interpretation of our mute souls. 
 For the words we learned before we fell a little lower 
 than the angels call to us in vain, our tongues are tied ; 
 and though we strive to syllable the memory, we find, 
 alas, that there is no common speech for the body and 
 the soul ! Language fails when we need it most. 
 
 But whether in speech or in sweeter silence the after 
 noon sped on. The sun sunk lower and lower, and with 
 slow steps the lovers began to tread the flowery lane. 
 Nathaniel pulled some violets and put them into Olivia's 
 girdle. It seemed to him a wonderful thing to do ; a 
 week ago he only dreamed of such delight. A little 
 farther on they came to the open garden, where the per 
 fume of raspberries and the double velvet-roses mingled, 
 and the warm light wind brought them a caress of scent, 
 the soul of a red bergamot flower, and the clove 
 carnations filled the air with their inthralling odours. 
 They forgot that they were mortal, since as yet no 
 thought or care for the future came with anxious whisper 
 between them. 
 
 Nathaniel had fully determined not to speak of John 
 and Anastasia de Burg. In his heart there lay that sin 
 gular superstition which at some time or other has influ 
 enced the most pious and logical minds, a feeling that
 
 122 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 it would be wise not to name the evil dreaded lest they 
 might call it unto them. Yet in defiance of this resolu 
 tion, in a moment, without intent, he broke it. A sudden 
 chill and silence followed the ill-omened words, and his 
 heart instantly reproached his tongue for them. 
 
 Everything changed in a moment; the hour of en 
 chantment was over, and they were summoned back to 
 common life by a shrill, weak voice calling at its highest 
 pitch, 
 
 "Olivia! Olivia!" 
 
 The two words were full of anger, of terror, of some 
 nameless dread, which the girl felt without understanding. 
 She looked with fearful inquiry at Nathaniel, and drop 
 ping his hand hurried to the house by the nearest 
 path. 
 
 It was Asa calling her, but his voice was so changed 
 that she did not know it until she saw him standing in the 
 open door. Without a word he went before the lovers 
 into the parlour. Two strange men were there, and Roger 
 Prideaux stood between them with irons on his wrists. 
 
 Olivia was at his side in a moment. She kissed his 
 bound hands, and put her arms around his neck, and 
 comforted him with that sweet love which, without say 
 ing " What is the trouble? " thinks only of consoling it. 
 It was Nathaniel who made the inquiry. With his hand 
 on Roger's shoulder he asked, 
 
 "Under what warrant do you serve an honourable 
 man so hardly? " 
 
 " High treason, Captain, and no less." 
 
 " Nathaniel, my son, neither make nor meddle in this 
 business. I have a narrow path to pass through ; but 
 One goes with me able to deliver." 
 
 " My father, trust in him ! " 
 
 " ' Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' Turn
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 123 
 
 thee, dear child, to Romans, eighth chapter and twenty- 
 eighth verse. There I found, not ten minutes ago, 
 God's grand charter of help sufficient. I was reading 
 it as the officers crossed my threshold, and the page 
 shone with the glory of the promise." 
 
 Upon this scene the men not unkindly turned their 
 backs, and Asa served them with a flagon of ale and 
 some meat and bread. 
 
 "Nathaniel! thou wilt care for Olivia?" 
 
 "With my life." 
 
 " My dear heart, I give thee to Nathaniel ; for I go 
 I know not where, nor for what time. Yet if it stand 
 with God's will, I shall surely come back to this pleasant 
 home ; and if it stand not so, his will be done." He 
 looked wistfully round the room and into the garden, 
 and then bent his head and kissed the sweet white face 
 that lay upon his breast. 
 
 " Neighbours, I am ready. There is a long walk to 
 Kendal, and delay at this hour can do no good." 
 
 There had been no outcry, no clamorous grief. The 
 thing they had feared had happened to them, but they 
 were prepared to receive it. Roger had not only set 
 his house in order, he had also made Olivia conversant 
 with all his affairs. So they said farewell with the noble 
 calmness of pious souls ; for piety is self-government 
 in its highest form. Olivia pressed her white cheek 
 against her father's, showing him eyes full of holy hope 
 and trust. She touched his lips with lips wearing the 
 calm smile of a soul trusting in the Omnipotent. 
 
 She went with him to the door, Nathaniel and Asa 
 keeping, with a natural modesty, a little behind her ; for 
 the nearness of her grief gave her a sad pre-eminence. 
 She stepped outside the threshold on to the wide flags 
 which made a central path through the garden to the
 
 124 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 park. On each side banks of roses filled the senses with 
 their colour and scent. A laburnum-tree dropped its 
 golden racemes above her head, and the westering sun 
 made the broad, tranquil atmosphere look as if it were 
 rilled with gold-dust. 
 
 She stood in it, a slight white-robed figure, tearless 
 and speechless, but revealing in her face and attitude 
 feelings inexpressible, unless it were possible to com 
 pass that vast, enigmatical language which comes in 
 dreams. A calamitous constraint of circumstances, a 
 strict necessity, was subduing her ; but she resented 
 sorrow, as youth must ever do. She knew that Anastasia 
 was triumphing over her. If the blow had come from 
 the blind prejudices of the civil power, she could have 
 borne it better. She felt it hard that her father should 
 have to go to prison for the crimes of John de Burg and 
 the wicked jealousy of his sister. Hardest of all was the 
 thought that God had permitted 'Anastasia to cross the 
 threshold of their happy home and bring misery and 
 ruin with her. Quiet as Olivia seemed to be, a great 
 storm tossed her innocent soul. She wanted to be 
 alone, to weep, to cry out, " My God, why hast thou 
 forsaken us?" 
 
 But she had that in her which rung well to the striker. 
 Though every footstep on the flagged walk was like a 
 blow on her heart, it was a blow that stirred her into 
 keener life. She whispered obedience, and with head 
 inclined, inclined her heart. 
 
 Standing thus, she watched her father pass out of her 
 sight. He walked like a man who had put the world 
 away from him, who held it as indifferently as if it were 
 a cast-off shoe. The irons on his wrists were unfelt ; 
 the road seemed to go upward to heaven. Holy men 
 of all ages were on it with him. He saw with Stephen,
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 12$ 
 
 he heard with Paul, he communed with God, and had 
 such comfort and strength as this world knows nothing 
 of. And at this hour Roger Prideaux, though small in 
 stature, looked truly noble. The officers instinctively 
 fell behind him a few steps. They declared afterward 
 that his face shone, and that they feared to be with him. 
 
 Presently the great trees hid all of them from sight. 
 Then Olivia turned her eyes upon Nathaniel, eyes soft 
 shining through a haze of unshed tears. He raised her 
 hand and kissed it, leading her with tender, comforting 
 words into the lonely parlour. For a few minutes she 
 yielded to herself, to her human need of sympathy, to 
 her woman's need of love and strength ; but soon the 
 primitive courage of her soul rose above its weakness. 
 She withdrew from Nathaniel's embrace ; she stood up 
 right and looked around, like one who is gathering force 
 from every quarter. 
 
 " Asa ! " 
 
 " I am here, Olivia." 
 
 " Thou must tell Gideon to saddle a fleet horse. He 
 is to go to my aunt Hannah Mettelane, who lives at 
 Ambleside, and tell her that 'the time spoken of has 
 come.' " 
 
 "Thou art sure thou art doing right?" 
 
 " It is the word of my father, Asa. As to thyself, " 
 
 " I am ready to do to the utmost." 
 
 "Then put up some changes of clothing for my fa 
 ther ; thou knowest all he will want. Surely thou wilt 
 stay close to him, Asa? " And she went to the old man, 
 and took his hands in hers. Their eyes met, and he 
 gave her an inviolable promise. 
 
 " He will miss thee at every turn. Be hands and feet 
 to him. Be a friend to him, Asa. He hath been one 
 to thee, and now there will be many against him."
 
 126 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " I will go to thy father. I will never leave him 
 so long as he is in trouble. And take courage, Olivia : 
 in a deluge, God's children never miss the ark." 
 
 " God give thee a good reward, Asa." Then she 
 turned to her lover. " Nathaniel, I must go to D'Acre 
 Hall at once. My father has a right to think that 
 Edward D'Acre will prepare such bail as may be wanted, 
 if it come to a question of bail. He left a letter on the 
 subject, which I must deliver." 
 
 " I will take it for you, dear Olivia." 
 
 " Nay, my father will not have thee meddle in this 
 matter. Also, I have a message which is to be given, or 
 not given, in my own discretion." 
 
 " Until your aunt arrives, or so long as you desire it, 
 I shall look for you to stay with my mother. If I take 
 you to D'Acre to-night, you can rest there, and so come 
 t>n to Kelderby to-morrow." 
 
 " Jane D'Acre is my friend. To get security is not 
 a thing of ' ask and have.' I may be required at D'Acre 
 for more than one day, and I think surely that Hannah 
 Mettelane will come with all possible speed. Also, dear 
 Nathaniel, thy mother might not desire my presence. 
 I must be certified of her good-will ere I put so great 
 a demand upon it." 
 
 " My beloved ! are you not as my wife ? Is not my 
 home your home?" 
 
 " In so far as thou canst give it. But thou must not 
 trespass on the rights of thy father and mother, nor 
 must thou lead me into so great a snare. Jane D'Acre 
 is my friend ; I will go to her." She spoke with a not 
 unsuitable maidenly pride, feeling that it was Lady 
 Kelder's place to give her first some unmistakable evi 
 dence of love and welcome. 
 
 Nathaniel was full of sorrowful and wounded per-
 
 DE BURCS FIRST MOVE. I2/ 
 
 plexity. He knew well how unwelcome Olivia would 
 be at Kelderby. If he took her there, a kind of civility 
 would not indeed be denied her. The baron would be 
 gravely courteous, and Olivia would doubtless soon win 
 from him a warmer feeling ; but Lady Kelder would be 
 more unreasonable. She would probably retire into her 
 own room and refuse to see Olivia ; or, if more aggres 
 sively inclined, Nathaniel understood in how many ways 
 women can wound women (smiling as they do it), say 
 ing cruel things that defy answer or reproof, insinuat 
 ing wounds, which the victim can only bear in silence 
 and hide from every eye. 
 
 He walked restlessly about the room, miserably con 
 scious of his inability to give the girl he so passionately 
 loved the shelter and help he longed to give her. She 
 passed in and out frequently, as she made with Asa the 
 preparations necessary for her father's comfort and the 
 security of the house. But Asa was both by nature and 
 education deliberate in all his movements, and he con 
 sidered the present circumstances demanded, not less, 
 but more, than his usual careful attention ; there were 
 presses and cellars and awmries to lock, servants to in 
 struct, Olivia's special charges to provide for, so many 
 little things to direct, that it was after sunset before 
 she was able to leave Sandys for D'Acre Hall. 
 
 She made no complaint about it. The pallor of her 
 face, the sadness and subdued anger of her manner, 
 alone told the story of her suffering. And Nathaniel 
 showed how well he understood the girl he loved, by 
 his sympathetic silence. She had entered the house 
 of sorrow, and he did not walk at her side babbling and 
 questioning and lamenting ; but Olivia felt at every step 
 how truly his love enfolded her. 
 
 The long twilight of the season soon became g^ray.
 
 128 FRIEND OLIVIA, 
 
 All glory went from the horizon, all colour from sea and 
 land. Evening has strange sadnesses, melancholy tints 
 and tones, pathetic intimations which the sensitive soul 
 solemnly apprehends. The lonely road they travelled 
 was void of all counteracting influences. It wound in 
 and out among the bowlders of the misty heath ; the 
 sea was at their right hand, a gray, heaving mass, 
 uttering a mournful, sighing roar, and half hid by a veil 
 of drifting vapour. Yet only a few hours before, the 
 world had been so full of light and colour, of song and 
 scent and warmth ; now to the silent lovers it was a 
 lonely, sterile world, full of mystery and gloom and 
 strange ominousness. 
 
 They arrived at D'Acre Hall just as the twilight 
 became night. D'Acre stood on his door-steps tak 
 ing his farewell look of the day he was going to shut 
 out of his house. He was startled by the arrival of 
 visitors at that hour ; but when he recognized Nathaniel 
 and Olivia a look of confirmed expectation crossed his 
 face. It was as if he had said, " I was sure this would 
 happen." He called his wife, and in a few moments 
 Nathaniel saw Olivia kindly received by her friend. She 
 turned to him one moment before she entered the house, 
 and he lifted his hat and bent his head in reply. It 
 was the only assurance either of them needed. They 
 loved, they trusted, they even dared, dark as the hour 
 was, to hope. 
 
 Nathaniel did not alight. He had a long ride, and he 
 was little inclined to talk to any one until he had con 
 sulted with his father ; but it was necessary to explain 
 Olivia's position, and he did this with as bare circum 
 stance as possible. D'Acre, standing in the gloom with 
 his hand upon the horse's neck, heard him with a troubled 
 face.
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 129 
 
 " So much does not astonish me, Captain Kelder," he 
 answered ; " I pray God it go no further. For you must 
 know that I was in Kendal yesterday, and I heard De Burg 
 very loud and insolent on the matter." 
 
 " I doubt it not." 
 
 " Squire Garnet and Thomas Musgrove and Isaac San 
 dal were talking with me, and De Burg, coming up to us, 
 cried, ' This is a foul business ! Here am I, a gentle 
 man of honour and descent, put under bonds and made 
 but a lodger in mine own house, because I stand for 
 what it would have been treason and death for my father 
 not to have stood for, while that Quaker malignant 
 called Prideaux is let live at his ease, though he be plot 
 ting in broad daylight against your Commonwealth,' 
 and a deal more of the same sort of words, but mainly 
 that Prideaux had been harbouring Harald Sandys, who 
 was Charles Stuart's emissary to the English Quakers ; 
 and hearing that, I went away, for truly I believe the 
 matter to be so." 
 
 " Harald Sandys is dead." 
 
 " Nay, then, I know not what to think. Surely Roger 
 Prideaux came to me for a suit of clothing for Harald 
 Sandys ; and I deem him too true a man to lie to me. 
 And herein I am myself uneasy in the matter. It is most 
 likely I may be hardly dealt with if my kindness be 
 construed into giving aid to a traitor." 
 
 "Is it needful to speak of it? Prideaux will never 
 do so." 
 
 " Alas, I have already talked with one who, I fear, will 
 be easily moved to repeat my words. For meeting Phil- 
 iipson one day, and I know not when I have met him 
 before, we fell into talk about Sandys, and the end of 
 so old a family, and the pity of it ; and further, Phillip- 
 son said he had been the dearest friend of the late lord, 
 
 9
 
 I3O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and loved him. And out of a good feeling I replied 
 there was a certainty that one of the Sandys yet lived, 
 and also that he was deep in Charles Stuart's counsel, 
 and would be like, if changes ever came, to build still 
 higher the house of Sandys. And one thing brought the 
 other, as it ever does, and I fear that I have done wrong 
 not only to myself but also to my friend. Surely, surely, 
 the 'yea' and 'nay' of the Quakers is all of tongue 
 traffic a man can manage with safety and without sin." 
 
 This confession greatly troubled Nathaniel, tossing his 
 mind to and fro with indeterminate fugitive fears and 
 suggestions as he galloped home. Indeed, he was so 
 thoroughly occupied with them that he failed to conceive 
 the different temper of minds not as yet possessed by 
 their demands, and the baron's and Lady Kelder's cold 
 and constrained interest in his return seemed to him 
 most unkind. If they had met him with eager question 
 ing and exclamations he would hardly have wondered or 
 inquired ; but that his father should placidly resume his 
 book and his mother her spinning, as if Roger was not 
 in prison and Olivia not a fugitive from her home, was 
 in his present concentrated mood a real wrong to him. 
 
 "There is great sorrow at Sandys," he said with an 
 air of injury. 
 
 The baron dropped his book, and Lady Kelder stayed 
 her wheel. 
 
 "Roger Prideaux is taken to prison on a charge of 
 treason against the Commonwealth. De Burg has in 
 formed the authorities that he was sheltering royalist 
 emissaries, in fact, Harald Sandys." 
 
 " He is well served. The old Quaker must turn patron 
 to gentlemen in his old days, and now he has to pay the 
 price of tampering with gentlemen's business. Faith ! I 
 cannot afford to be sorry for him."
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 131 
 
 " But this is a business, Joan, which, if possible, we 
 must afford to help. What is the first thing, Nathaniel? " 
 
 " Bail, if admissible." 
 
 " Bail ! No more of that, I pray, Odinel." 
 
 " Indeed, I fear it is beyond me. Kelderby is fully 
 pledged for De Burg, and over Swaffham I have no 
 power. Where is the young girl?" 
 
 " I left her at D' Acre's, but she hath no right there ; 
 if my mother would but offer her " 
 
 " She hath no right here." 
 
 " She hath the right of my promised wife." 
 
 " Nathaniel ! " 
 
 Lady Kelder rose with the word, and passionately 
 pushing her wheel aside, she said, 
 
 " Dare you tell me that again? " 
 
 Mother and son looked steadily at each other ; there 
 was no flinching in either face. 
 
 " She hath the right of my promised wife." 
 
 " When you tie that knot, you may tie cobwebs. And 
 while I am mistress of Kelderby, Olivia Prideaux crosses 
 not its threshold." 
 
 " I am sorry you cannot feel as I do in this matter, 
 Mother." 
 
 " Sorry ! No, you are not sorry. You have known 
 my mind about the Quakers, male and female, long be 
 fore you met this girl. You wanted her because you 
 were bounden by every sacred duty not to want her. 
 Faith ! if 't were not Adam pulled the forbidden ap 
 ple, 't was because his courage went not so far as his 
 desires." 
 
 " Joan, my dear heart, fret not yourself beyond your 
 guidance. Nathaniel hath done wrong " 
 
 " He hath done a cruel wrong, the cruellest wrong a 
 son can do to the mother who bore him."
 
 132 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Mother, have I not the right to choose the woman I 
 love for my wife? " 
 
 " Son, have I not a right to say what woman shall be 
 my daughter? Have your father and I not a right to 
 say with what family we will blend our own family? 
 Who gave you permission to mingle Quaker blood, and 
 trader's blood, with the strain kept noble and honour 
 able through seven centuries? A boor, a lackey, may 
 live unto himself, but you ! you have no such cursed 
 privilege, sir ! " 
 
 " Indeed, I think the Prideaux may stand in all honour 
 beyond the De Burgs." 
 
 " Nathaniel, my mother was a De Burg." 
 
 The baron spoke with unusual sternness, and then 
 crossed the hearth and took his wife upon his arm. " I 
 am afraid, Nathaniel, that your visits to Sandys have 
 already done you much mischief." 
 
 " I am prepared to meet it. I shall suffer with 
 Olivia." 
 
 "'//' Do you see nothing beyond yourself, sir? 
 Your suffering, your shame, can you bear them alone? 
 No, your mother will have a double portion. And I 
 think you might also respect your father's honour, and 
 not wound your father's heart. If you are mixed up with 
 these Prideaux, I too shall be under suspicion. My 
 friends will look coldly upon me ; my enemies will 
 shoot out the tongue and say slanderous things. I shall 
 lose my eminence among the Independents. Indeed, 
 there needs no more to all our undoing than such an 
 alliance." 
 
 " I think I am doing right, Father." 
 
 " Nothing can be right for yourself which is procured 
 by wronging your father and mother." 
 
 "Roger Prideaux is innocent, and I think it will be
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 133 
 
 proved so. If not, whatever is" God's will, he can bravely 
 bear it." 
 
 "God's will! That is easy said, Nathaniel;" and 
 Lady Kelder flushed with indignation as she spoke. " It 
 is presumptuous to ascribe all that happens, however 
 wicked it be, to God. God permits both the Devil and 
 men and women to do many things that he does not 
 will them to do. There is a difference, yes, a great 
 difference. God may permit you to make a selfish and 
 cruel marriage in order to gratify yourself, but he does 
 not will or wish you to do it." 
 
 " I love Olivia ; she hath the promise of my hand, 
 a promise I will not break. The future holds miracles ; 
 if I keep faith with my love, I doubt not but what truth 
 and patience will conquer in the end." 
 
 " You are wonders, of course, both of you ! Nothing 
 has ever happened to your fathers that has happened to 
 you. Nathaniel, you are a very ordinary young man, 
 and Mistress Prideaux a very ordinary young woman. 
 Let me tell you that the earth will not move off its axis, 
 nor its inhabitants be turned upside down, to compass 
 your marriage with a Quakeress ! " 
 
 This closed the argument for the night, but it was re 
 newed next morning on a different basis, or rather Lady 
 Kelder refused to see or hear or feel anything touching 
 the subject. Her own mind was made up, and she was 
 determined not to permit discussions which could only 
 give her pain without touching even the outermost edge 
 of her convictions. She disliked Olivia, though she had 
 seen her but twice ; and what argument can conquer a 
 soul's involuntary antipathy? 
 
 Olivia's serenity, her unassuming modesty of garb and 
 manner, her peculiar form of speech, were all affectations 
 to Lady Kelder. Besides which, she had an abhorrence
 
 134 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 of Quaker doctrines. Extreme Calvinism had moulded 
 her spiritual nature ; its austerity and intolerance made 
 the boundary lines of all her ideas. She had received 
 from Mr. Duttred as well as from Nathaniel an account 
 of the Fox meeting at Roger Prideaux's, and had felt 
 scandalized at Olivia's interruption of a grave theological 
 debate. These emotional young girls, who talked of an 
 indwelling Christ, and of heavenly visions, inspired her 
 with no other feeling but that of dislike. She was angry 
 at such presumption. The revelation of heavenly things 
 unto babes, instead of unto priests, was a doctrine she 
 did not practically admit. 
 
 In the solitude of the midnight she had sat alone with 
 her soul and conscientiously examined her motives. And 
 she was sure that Nathaniel's marriage with Olivia would 
 be a most unfortunate one for her son. A Quaker wife 
 would separate him from all their old friends and associ 
 ations. Unless Nathaniel became a Quaker, there would 
 be a divided household in religious matters. If Nathan 
 iel became a Quaker, the remedy would be worse than 
 the disease. In that case he would also be practically 
 shut out from all civil offices and from all social respect. 
 His fine position, his ancient prestige, could be used 
 only for the spread of Quakerism. Spiritually and tem 
 porally, in her opinion, the alliance meant ruin to her 
 son. 
 
 The baron shared her opinions, modified somewhat 
 by a more comprehensive and masculine grasp of the 
 subject. " If Quakerism is not of God," he said, " it 
 will speedily pass away ; and Nathaniel hath so much 
 sense as to discover this." He reflected also that 
 Olivia's peculiarities would probably be softened by the 
 social and domestic demands of life at Kelderby, and 
 that even if they were not, the estate of Sandys was a
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 135 
 
 very fair set-off against religious opinions which in some 
 respects his own experience justified. Still he was not 
 inclined to encourage the marriage ; he believed truly it 
 would be neither happy nor prosperous. 
 
 After breakfast father and son took a walk, in order 
 to talk more freely about the situation of the Prideaux 
 and the extent of danger likely to touch Kelderby in 
 consequence. 
 
 " I think it is but a woman's passion,' ' said Nathaniel. 
 "Anastasia has no continuance of purpose, either in 
 good or in evil." 
 
 " Herein you judge foolishly, Nathaniel. Anastasia, 
 by her first movement of revenge, has put the matter be 
 yond her own control. And D'Acre's report shows that 
 Stephen de Burg has lifted her cause. In some way or 
 other, it is his intention to make this an occasion for a 
 quarrel with me. Then you can see what will follow." 
 
 " He and Anastasia will go to Charles Stuart, and you 
 will have the forfeit to pay." 
 
 "Also, I myself may fall under suspicion with the 
 Commonwealth. Judges who look beyond the day will 
 argue that De Burg, being my cousin, and a man of such 
 reputed honour, would not so wrong my kindness unless 
 under some secret agreement of mutual interest ; and 
 the natural suspicion will be that it refers to the return of 
 Charles Stuart. Nathaniel, I am in a very hard case. I 
 pray you do not strengthen ill thoughts by a friendship 
 and alliance with that Quaker, who is already doubted in 
 his loyalty." 
 
 " We know, Father, that the man was 'ohn de Burg, 
 and not Harald Sandys." 
 
 " We do not know. Your apprehension is not con 
 firmation to any mind but your own. Also, you must 
 plainly perceive that Prideaux entertained the man be-
 
 136 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 lieving him to be Harald Sandys, and, on his own con 
 fession, ' about the king's business.' Nor will it help 
 him to say it was John de Burg, while it may make my 
 cousin and Anastasia so much more our enemies." 
 
 " Still if asked, I must tell the truth." 
 
 " If your conscience demand so much yes." 
 
 " As for my promise to Olivia " 
 
 " It must be set aside. All promises depend upon 
 the power to perform them." 
 
 " I have the power to perform this promise." 
 
 " Not without committing grave wrongs to your 
 mother and me. A promise kept under such circum 
 stances is worse than broken." 
 
 " I have an obligation to Olivia, and also to Olivia's 
 father. I cannot break it." 
 
 " You have an obligation far older and more sacred to 
 your mother and to your own father. Do not dare to 
 break it, lest you lack God's blessing on all else." 
 
 "Is it not said that a man shall leave father and 
 mother for his wife?" 
 
 "It is said they 'shall' do so. But it is not said that 
 they ' ought ' to do it. It is also said that men ' shall ' 
 deny God, and persecute the saints, and commit all 
 manner of sin. Your mother said truly last night that 
 many things are permitted of God that are not of God's 
 will. Let me tell you that a life of self-indulgent love 
 will smart as death. There is always a way to reconcile 
 duties, if men will patiently take counsel of God and put 
 away the spirit of self-serving." 
 
 Nathaniel's answer was interrupted by the approach of 
 an officer with a summons for Nathaniel Kelder to ap 
 pear before the Kendal magistrates on the following day, 
 as a witness in the complaint of the Commonwealth 
 against Roger Prideaux. And in further conversation
 
 DE BURG'S FIRST MOVE. 137 
 
 with the man it was ascertained that Olivia Prideaux, 
 Asa Bevin, John D'Acre, and Stephen de Burg with his 
 daughter Anastasia had also been cited. He stated fur 
 ther, that the examination was likely to cause great ex 
 citement, and to be attended by many sympathizers on 
 both sides. 
 
 The news, though expected, was startling. We think we 
 have prepared ourselves for an event, but we never have. 
 Its arrival is always a shock. Both men dreaded the 
 camp of gowned conflict. Both men would far rather 
 have buckled on their swords and gone to the battlefield 
 for the Commonwealth than enter those treacherous lists. 
 
 " But the evil we have called unto us," said the baron, 
 with a sigh, " we must face." 
 
 " Well, then, Father, the good man stands under the 
 eye of God, and therefore stands. Courage carries the 
 day, and love won't fail us anywhere." 
 
 For Nathaniel had one of those souls born for adver 
 sity, which win from it the strength to nerve themselves 
 for the loftiest endurance or endeavour, 
 
 "E'en as the falcon, when the wind is fair, 
 
 Close to the earth on lagging pinion goes ; 
 But when against her beats the adverse air, 
 She breasts the gale, and rises as it blows."
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 
 
 fc He who deceives by an oath acknowledges that he fears his enemy, but 
 despises God." 
 
 " Like to a sea-girt rock I stand, 
 
 Deep sunk in peace though storms rage by, 
 As calm as if on every hand 
 
 Were only Thou, O God, and 1 1 " 
 
 WHEN Nathaniel awoke the next morning he had a 
 moment's wonder as to where he was; for the 
 brattle of sweet-tongued bells clashed and clanged in the 
 sunny air with a joyful melody. He leaped up to the ex 
 ultant octaves, his soul, independently of his will, set 
 ting them to the musical old chime, 
 
 " O ! te laudum millibus, 
 
 Laudo ! Laudo 1 Laudo ! 
 Tantis mirabilibus, 
 
 Plaudo! Plaudo! Plaudol 
 Gloria sit gloria, 
 
 Domino in altis ; 
 Cui testimonia, 
 Danter et praeconia, 
 
 Cxlicis a psaltis." 
 
 There is a kind of compulsion in such familiar rhymes, 
 the mind perforce goes through them ; and yet before 
 the charmful words were half recalled Nathaniel had suf 
 fered a sudden depression. The old question, What is 
 the matter? deadened the last lines, and they sung 
 themselves mournfully out of his consciousness.
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 139 
 
 He had left Kelderby for Kendal on the previous day 
 immediately after receiving the summons, and had spent 
 the night in the Crown Inn of that town. With the rec 
 ognition of this fact came the instantaneous memory of 
 all the unhappy circumstances which had brought him to 
 the unfamiliar room ; and he was compelled to acknowl 
 edge that Roger's affairs were capable of being worked to 
 much loss and sorrow. He had found him so strictly 
 confined that it was impossible to get speech with him, 
 and the general opinion was adverse to his case. 
 
 He was also troubled about Olivia's position ; for on his 
 way to Kendal he had called at D'Acre Hall, and found 
 that D'Acre had retreated into the safest lines of popular 
 approval. Olivia was constrained and unhappy. She 
 felt the chilliness and anxiety of her entertainers, and she 
 regretted having left the fortress of her home. 
 
 D'Acre being also summoned, it would have been in 
 friendly accord with the circumstances to have detained 
 Nathaniel until the morning, or else to have accompanied 
 him to Kendal without further delay. But D'Acre did not 
 wish to be associated with people suspicious in the public 
 eye. The charge of Olivia annoyed him very much, and 
 he thought it would be a wrong to his young wife to have 
 her seen with the girl. He did not indeed say so, but 
 Nathaniel had one of those souls which see our human 
 nature behind the veils of Eleusis. He understood the 
 sickness which would prevent Mistress D'Acre going to 
 Kendal with her guest ; he felt the frosty hospitality, the 
 bareness of sympathy which wounded and repressed 
 Olivia, and he was glad to hear her say, 
 
 " If God will, I shall go back to Sandys to-morrow." 
 
 "You will do right, Olivia. Sorrow should bide at 
 home." 
 
 " I think so," answered D'Acre, who was nettled by
 
 140 
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Nathaniel's tone more than by his words. " If a man 
 can salute his own special troubles, he does as well as 
 flesh and blood can do." 
 
 " True, D'Acre, if flesh and blood were all." 
 
 There was such sadness in Nathaniel's voice that 
 D'Acre did not word the quick answer he had ready. For 
 we are complex creatures ; and if it be true that when 
 we would do good evil is present with us, it is equally 
 true that often when we would do evil a good thought 
 or a kind feeling restrains the evil. 
 
 Nathaniel dressed quickly, with a certain careful splen 
 dour, and he was still young enough to eat heartily, though 
 Anxiety sat down at the table with him. The sky was 
 without a cloud ; the sunshine filled the streets ; the 
 bell-ringers kept up their happy riot of exultant melody ; 
 the shopkeepers stood with broad, beaming faces at 
 their doors ; the women were at the open windows. For 
 it was pretty Mary Pierson's wedding-day ; and because 
 human nature never wearies of its prime elementary feel 
 ings, the wedding peal found some echoes in nearly 
 every heart. 
 
 Nathaniel walked slowly through the clean white 
 streets. The wedding was over, but men and women 
 still stood together talking about it. He went thought 
 fully forward until he had passed the parish church, then 
 turning he saw Parson Derby just leaving the rectory, 
 and Stephen de Burg was with him. 
 
 The examination was appointed for eleven o'clock, 
 and before that hour a great number of people were in 
 the Town Hall. The wedding had broken into the day's 
 work, and the trial of Master Prideaux was more attrac 
 tive to them than their belated tasks. 
 
 When Nathaniel entered it, his first glance fell upon 
 Olivia. She sat near the bench for the magistrates, a
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 141 
 
 little apart, and quite alone. D'Acre had brought her 
 thus far, and then found in his own affairs an excuse 
 from further attendance. She was not sorry to bid him 
 farewell ; for a friend who has fallen below his profession 
 is a contemptible creature, even to himself. As he turned 
 from her the Hall bell began to ring, and she could not 
 help feeling that it was a forlorn bell, tolling for one who 
 had lost a great opportunity. 
 
 A few minutes after D'Acre's desertion Nathaniel saw 
 her. She was dressed with extreme plainness in a black 
 gown, though a kerchief of white lawn covered her throat 
 and bosom, and a hood of white sarcenet lay across her 
 bright hair. Its silken sheen and the clear purity of the 
 lawn made around her head reflections of white light, 
 quite distinct in the dusty atmosphere of the room, and 
 in them her fair face looked as a white rose looks in the 
 garden's golden sunshine. 
 
 Nathaniel went to her side and spoke to her in whis 
 pers, he scarce knew what words, only that they came 
 straight from his heart, and were altogether made of love 
 and pity. Men and women whom they heeded not, looked 
 at them with interest and sympathy ; for if Nathaniel had 
 stood up in the midst of them and said aloud, " I love 
 this girl with all my soul," he could not have taken them 
 into his confidence more completely. And it was pleasant 
 to see the little groups affecting a kind disregard, turn 
 ing from their points of observation, or finding in their 
 own affairs a suddenly overwhelming interest. 
 
 In the few moments' grace thus afforded, many things 
 were hurriedly said ; they talked as souls may talk who 
 meet after cycles of separation, hastening their confidences 
 because their parting may come before their sweetest 
 thoughts are told. Holding her hand, watching with 
 brimming eyes the tears upon her cheeks, feeling as if
 
 142 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 life held only that precious ten minutes, Nathaniel talked 
 with Olivia. 
 
 Then there was the sound of laughter and of footsteps 
 on the stone stairway, and the rush of that invisible force 
 which always accompanies the entry of a number of hu 
 man beings into a room. Parson Derby and Stephen 
 de Burg came first ; Anastasia was just behind them, 
 Squire Chenage and Sir Edward le Tall walking at her 
 side ; Judah Parke and Elijah Waring, magistrates, fol 
 lowed. It was said that Elijah Waring favoured the 
 Quakers, and that his wife Jenifer had joined the society ; 
 but Judah Parke was a Presbyterian of the strictest sort, 
 and a Quaker was an abomination to him. 
 
 A sudden silence, slightly broken by whispers and 
 shuffling feet, followed ; then the jailer entered with 
 Roger Prideaux, who walked between two constables. 
 He had to pass within a few feet of Olivia, and as he did 
 so she obeyed the impulse of her heart and rose and 
 kissed him, kissed his face, and then casting her eyes 
 upon his still manacled hands, she .stooped and kissed 
 them also. The act was involuntary ; it was finished be 
 fore a word of dissent could be spoken, but as she sat 
 down again an indescribable murmur of sympathy ran 
 through the room. 
 
 It angered the parson, and he asked peremptorily that 
 the examination of Roger Prideaux be immediately begun. 
 The first witness called was Anastasia de Burg. She rose 
 with that flurry which seemed inseparable from all her 
 moods, in spite of the pride bred in her by her order and 
 position ; she readily took the proffered oath, though with 
 some incoherence, for she was confused with the con 
 sciousness that Nathaniel's eyes were upon her. 
 
 Never had she been more bewitchingly beautiful; 
 never had she dressed herself with a more enhancing
 
 THE KIA r GS SERVANTS. 143 
 
 splendour. She wore a petticoat of lead-coloured satin, 
 with an overgown of lavender moire, trimmed with silver 
 buttons and silver lace. A whisk of fine white point was 
 her neck-dress, and above her flowing curls drooped a 
 low beaver hat, heavy with white and lavender feathers. 
 Long lavender gloves embroidered with silver covered 
 her hands and arms ; she carried a little Indian cane 
 painted and gilt, and at her waist was a silver chain, 
 holding half a dozen Italian cameo seals, the extrava 
 gant fad of the day. 
 
 Being interrogated as to her knowledge of Roger Pri- 
 deaux's guest, she said, 
 
 " 'T was on the 2gth of May I was out driving, as is my 
 custom, and passing Sandys Hall I bethought me of the 
 many strange rumours I had heard of the new owners, and 
 I determined to gratify my curiosity regarding all these. 
 'T was said also that Mistress Prideaux was a wonder of 
 womanhood, of a very sober humour, infinitely discreet 
 and virtuous, and I had a mind to see such a miracle 
 of my sex. I found the door guarded, as treasures are 
 said to be, by an old dragon, who refused me entrance 
 with many excuses, all of which I denied with a determi 
 nation that won my way ; and so I came to the parlour, 
 where I found Mistress Prideaux and Captain Kelder and 
 a strange gentleman of a very brave countenance, whom 
 Mistress Prideaux told me was Harald Sandys, ' fearing 
 nothing,' as she said, ' from a person of my opinions.' " 
 
 "What said you?" 
 
 " I said the king's I said Charles Stuart's friends 
 were my friends ; and so on with discourse of that kind, 
 until I spoke of a ship lying off Barrow, said to be there 
 for his Majes for certain of the friends of Charles 
 S-uart ; and with that he immediately disappeared, and 
 I saw him no more."
 
 144 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " What said Captain Kelder? " 
 
 " He spoke only of things in general, such speech 
 as gallants make to young women, and young women 
 forget." 
 
 "What said Mistress Prideaux to this sudden de 
 parture? " 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux had just left the room for a cordial, 
 and I, finding Captain Kelder's company not to my lik 
 ing, took a hasty leave upon some excuse, and so to 
 Madam Cecil's at Milnthorpe, where I related what had 
 passed and spent the night." 
 
 " Why did you not tell the proper officers at once? " 
 
 " In faith ! I am not paid to protect the Common 
 wealth ; 1 leave that to wiser heads. If 't was Harald 
 Sandys I wished him safe away, and no harm, I trust, 
 in a woman's good wish. But all are not equally discreet. 
 Some of Madam Cecil's maids heard of the affair, and so 
 it passed around until my father demanded of me the right 
 of the report ; further, the question is his, not mine." 
 
 "You are certain this stranger was Harald Sandys?" 
 
 " I have never seen Harald Sandys. I took him on the 
 word of Mistress Prideaux, who is vouched for as be 
 yond a lie." 
 
 " Would you know the man again? " 
 
 " On my word a~d honour, anywhere." 
 
 Olivia PrideauA was the next witness. Anastasia retired, 
 and she stepped into her place. The contrast between 
 the two women was sharp, that between their manners 
 still more remarkable. Anastasia had been restless and 
 self-conscious; her fingers had toyed with her seals all 
 the time. While speaking she had pushed a froward curl 
 behind her ear, and shaken a fine handkerchief with 
 strawberry buttons upon it, and opened her vinaigrette, 
 and broken to pieces one of the red roses at her bosom.
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 145 
 
 Olivia was quite still ; she was asked to take the oath. 
 Her answer was low but distinct, 
 
 " I dare not." 
 
 " The law bids you do it," said Parson Derby. 
 
 " Christ forbids me. ' Swear not at all,' thou canst 
 read for thyself." 
 
 " Tis an excuse," said Judah Parke. "These Quaker 
 women love nothing better than the cry of martyrdom ; 
 and we may plainly perceive that this girl will rather go 
 to prison than tell the truth against her father. My ad 
 vice is that we take her on her word." 
 
 There was some discussion on this proposal, and mean 
 while Olivia stood at perfect rest. Her hands, folded on 
 the railing before her, made no movement ; her interior 
 sight, being toward Him who is invisible, gave to its 
 mortal symbols a holy fixedness of purpose ; her face 
 was as calm as the face of a happy sleeper ; her body, 
 though she was standing, was full of repose ; for the con 
 sciousness of God's presence was so real to her that she 
 quieted herself in it, as a babe is quieted who feels the 
 throb of its mother's breast and the clasp of its mother's 
 arms." 
 
 "Mistress Prideaux," said Elijah Waring, "we will take 
 your word, as an oath is a point of conscience with you." 
 
 " A foolish concession, Master Waring, and I will still 
 say so ; for if this scruple stand, it will be a cloak long 
 enough to cover all the Jesuits that may come into Eng 
 land," and the priest frowned angrily. 
 
 " Still, Parson, we shall not reach the witness without 
 it. For myself, I will take Olivia Prideaux's word if she 
 tell us plainly when and where she first saw this Harald 
 Sandys." 
 
 " On the 2Oth day of Fifth Month, in the garden at 
 Sandys."
 
 146 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "What said he?" 
 
 " That he was Harald Sandys, and that he had been 
 upon the king's business to Penrith, and was like to fall 
 into the hands of his enemies, and so lose his life." 
 
 " You think him to be the man he said ? " 
 
 " At the first, truly so. He told us of his wound at 
 Marston Moor, and of his escape to Charles Stuart, and I 
 believed him." 
 
 " Do you favour Charles Stuart as ruler of this realm? " 
 
 " I favour him not." 
 
 " Does your father favour him so ? " 
 
 " My father is a lover of the Commonwealth and of the 
 Protector." 
 
 " Why, then, did you succour an emissary of Charles 
 Stuart?" 
 
 " I succoured him not as Charles Stuart's friend." 
 
 "How, then?" 
 
 " As a perishing man. When he fell at my feet and 
 said, ' Save my life,' I felt favoured to do so. What 
 wouldst thou have done?" 
 
 Waring looked troubled, but he answered brusquely, 
 " I hope I should have done right. Did you hear him 
 speak of the Quakers, and of Charles Stuart's pity for 
 their sufferings?" 
 
 " He spoke not of Charles Stuart, nor yet of the people 
 thou callest Quakers." 
 
 " Your father knew that he was Harald Sandys ? " 
 
 " He believed him to be Harald Sandys." 
 
 " He knew him to be on some business for Charles 
 Stuart." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why, then, did he succour him if he is a lover of the 
 Commonwealth? " 
 
 " Because he was miserable and in danger. Said God
 
 THE KINGS SERVANTS. 147 
 
 ever to a miserable man, ' Whose son art thou ? ' or 
 to a perishing man, ' Servest thou the king, or the 
 Commonwealth? ' " 
 
 There was a low murmur of assent through the room, 
 and Elijah Waring looked at his associate with anxious 
 eyes. He saw him not, for he was steadily regarding the 
 young girl who had asked such a searching question. 
 
 The priest broke the silence that followed. " You 
 Quaker women are better at demanding than at answer 
 ing ; and by my word, for one so wise, you took the 
 man on light evidence. He might have been a mur 
 derer, a pirate, or a thief, for aught you know. Show 
 us by what signs you were satisfied that he was in reality 
 Harald Sandys." 
 
 " I have been given to understand that he was not 
 Harald Sandys." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 This " oh " sprang involuntarily from many a lip, 
 and in all variety of tones. Parson Derby looked ex 
 ceedingly gratified, and his "oh" was one of proud 
 satisfaction ; for he perceived that his penetration had 
 touched an important point of evidence. 
 
 "When were you given to understand this?" 
 
 "After he had gone, suddenly, without any words 
 of thanks or kindness." 
 
 "Who gave you to understand it?" 
 
 "Nathaniel Kelder." 
 
 There was a general ejaculation of surprise, and every 
 eye that could command him was fixed upon Nathaniel. 
 He bore the inquisition with an unmoved countenance, 
 though his gaze was full of fire and the lines around his 
 mouth were stern and steady. Anastasia looked at him 
 for a moment, a rapid glance that was first entreaty, 
 but was instantly turned to defiance by the calm severity
 
 148 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 of his face ; then she let her gaze drop upon her seals, 
 and lifting one she began in a low voice to talk to Sir 
 Edward le Tall about it. 
 
 " 'T was brought out of the Indies, I do believe : an 
 idol's head very like, and sure they took the Devil him 
 self for the pattern of it ; but I am extremely fond of 
 the oddity of the ugly thing." And all through this 
 fantastic whispering she heard the question she was 
 dreading, to hear. 
 
 " If he was not Harald Sandys, who then was he ? 
 Were you given to understand so much ? " 
 
 " He was John de Burg." 
 
 A low, sharp cry, like that of an animal caught in a 
 trap, followed. It came from the lips of Anastasia ; but 
 it was not noticed in the more furious outburst of her 
 father. 
 
 "You lie, woman!" he shouted passionately; and 
 then turning to Nathaniel : " And you, sir, are a dam 
 nable liar ! Digest the word at your leisure." 
 
 A few moments of uproar followed. Nathaniel sprang 
 to his feet, but instantly sat down again, with his back 
 to De Burg. The justices gave this and that order, 
 and the constables struck the unoffending prisoner. But 
 De Burg, having a method in his madness, speedily 
 allowed his anger to give place to the law's demand, 
 and at the request of the magistrates permitted the 
 inquiry to proceed without further disturbance. 
 
 Olivia's cheeks had become whiter, her eyes darker, 
 her bearing more dignified, but otherwise she had let 
 the drift of passion pass her by as if she heard it not. 
 When the examination was resumed, she was in a mood 
 of perfect composure. 
 
 "Do you believe it was John de Burg?" 
 
 "I do."
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 149 
 
 "Why do you believe it?" 
 
 "On the word of Nathaniel Kelder." 
 
 Olivia was then permitted to sit down. She had to 
 face Anastasia as she walked to her place, and Anastasia 
 did her best to make the few yards a fiery passage. But 
 her spite and contempt and anger were utterly flung 
 away. Olivia walked in her own atmosphere, and noth 
 ing evil entered it. She saw not her enemy, she heard 
 not her scornful laugh, she felt not the hating glance 
 of her evil eyes ; for she was within the shadow of His 
 wings, and He kept her in perfect peace. 
 
 Nathaniel Kelder was the next witness. His words 
 were clear and strong and to the point. He spoke 
 without fear, and without evident anger; yet his heart 
 was hot within him. 
 
 " I went to Sandys on the 29th of last May. A man 
 was sitting in the parlour with Mistress Prideaux, reading 
 aloud ' The Elixir ' of Mr. George Herbert. I was told 
 that it was Harald Sandys ; but I knew that it was John 
 de Burg." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Stephen de Burg, "this is the perfectest 
 lie ! John de Burg reading the saintly George Herbert 1 
 As well tell us the Devil was reading the Gospels." 
 
 " It was John de Burg," reiterated Nathaniel. 
 
 " How were you certified that it was John de Burg? " 
 
 " Nine days before, I was told that John de Burg had 
 been hid in his father's house for six weeks ; and I was 
 asked to shelter him and aid him further. I refused to 
 do so. Evidence indisputable to my mind made me 
 understand that Harald Sandys and John de Burg were 
 the same man. As John de Burg I ordered him to 
 leave Sandys on the instant ; and to avoid arrest by me, 
 he leaped from a window and went at my word." 
 
 "'T is more and more beyond belief! " shouted the
 
 150. FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 irate De Burg. "John is a world-wide villain, but yet 
 too much De Burg to go on your order." 
 
 " I have nothing further to say." 
 
 " Asa Bevin ! " 
 
 The old man rose at once, and advanced with the air 
 of one who not only has something to say, but who is 
 determined to say it. His small, prim figure, his thin, 
 resolute face, his tall stiff hat planted firmly on his head, 
 were provocative of opposition. 
 
 Judah Parke felt the spirit of persecution stirring in 
 his heart. It seemed to him like an agreeable sense of 
 duty, and he bent forward and said sharply, 
 
 "Asa Bevin, remove your hat." 
 
 " Best Wisdom inclines me not to do so. When I 
 pray to God, I uncover my head ; and I will not give 
 to thee and sundry the honour I give to God." 
 
 " Jailer, take off his hat." 1 
 
 The hat was instantly thrown to the floor. It fell at 
 the feet of one who kicked it out of his way, and so 
 touching another was kicked farther, and thus until it 
 was beyond sight and reach. Asa looked after it with 
 a queer wrinkling of his thin face. It made mirth also 
 for the crowd, to whom a stray hat is ever a thing for 
 kicks and jokes, and some quip of vulgar wit just hit 
 ting the time put even the magistrates in a guffaw of 
 laughter. 
 
 Asa looked and listened with contemptuous anger ; 
 and when Judah Parke, recovering first, asked, "What 
 say you to this merry uncovering of a Quaker?" Asa 
 
 1 At this date men wore their hats constantly both in the house and in 
 church. They sat at meals in them. They listened to a play m them. 
 The preacher went to the pulpit in his hat, the congregation doffed theirs 
 only at the name of God. Hat-lifting was a foreign fashion but recently 
 brought to England. Sober men wore their hats. Wits and fops carried 
 theirs in their hands most of the time.
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 151 
 
 answered, " The fool's heart is full of laughter, but 
 whenever did the saints of God live in laughing and 
 mocking?" 
 
 "Give him the oath." 
 
 " Thou knowest I will take no oath. I will speak the 
 truth without the great presumption of summoning the 
 Almighty God to be witness for me. Neither at thy 
 command will I break the command of One who is 
 thy Lord and Master as well as mine." 
 
 " If you take not the oath, then we must send you 
 to jail ; and as for the command of Christ, ask the par 
 son, and he will tell you that it referred to profane 
 speech, not to oaths for the sake of truth and justice." 
 
 It was Waring who spoke ; for he pitied the man who 
 was wilfully electing himself to the martyrdom of the 
 jails of those days. Asa looked at the parson, but with 
 out any design of asking information from him ; for he 
 immediately denied the reconciling statement. 
 
 " Thou art all wrong. Profane speech had been un 
 lawful since the days of Moses. But not for any magis 
 trate will I break either the law of Moses or the law of 
 Christ. Thou canst send me to jail for my refusal, 
 if thou wiliest to do so." 
 
 " I understand not the law of Moses and the law of 
 Christ specially so," said Parson Derby, with an air 
 of authority. 
 
 " Thou needest God to make thee understand God." 
 
 "I preach a true doctrine. 'T would be well if you 
 would come and hear it." 
 
 " Many preachers hear not themselves. And as for 
 instruction, God speaks to man without ringing of church 
 bells." 
 
 " This fellow will dispute all day long. Take his 
 word on the matter in question; the refusal to take
 
 152 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 oath is but a door to get out of testimony against his 
 master." 
 
 " Asa Bevin, what know you of the man called Harald 
 Sandys." 
 
 " Olivia Prideaux brought him to me on the 2Oth day 
 of Fifth Month, a dirty, wicked-looking vagabond as 
 ever I saw ; and 't is not railing, but straight truth to 
 say so. 'T was a face with the mintage of Satan on it, 
 and many things were made manifest to me concerning 
 the man and his wicked deeds." 
 
 " By what name was he known ? " 
 
 "Roger and Olivia Prideaux believed him to be 
 Harald Sandys, until he was past putting to the ques 
 tion. I ever doubted it." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because the Sandys face is one that hath the thought 
 of God and the fear of God behind it. This man had 
 the countenance of one who is wicked both of nature 
 and of will." 
 
 "What said Roger Prideaux to you of him?" 
 
 " He said that he was Harald Sandys. He told me 
 the man had been to Penrith on the business of Charles 
 Stuart, and had been closely pursued ; and that for the 
 sake of human kindness he would shelter him until the 
 ship he waited for arrived." 
 
 "What thought you?" 
 
 " I thought that the Sandys were well all dead if this 
 man stood in their likeness. But he was none of their 
 kind." 
 
 "How did you discover that?" 
 
 "First, by my own wisdom taught of Best Wisdom. 
 Second, 't was Anastasia de Burg discovered me so much 
 of her affairs. She came to Sandys on the 2pth of Fifth 
 Month, and at her first calling stayed not long. Yet
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 153 
 
 she went away in a great passion with Nathaniel Kel- 
 der. 'T was my place to be on the watch, and I heard 
 her threaten him with her own wrath, and also with 
 the wrath of the man he ordered from the house ; 
 and I heard her call that man John de Burg, and with 
 his name make good her threat." 
 
 Then Stephen de Burg rose in a fury of passion. 
 " Will your Worship," he cried, looking to Judah Parke, 
 " restrain the lying speech of this pestilent rogue ? John 
 de Burg in a Quaker's house? Yes, when the Devil 
 drinks holy water. And I count it but scant kindness 
 in my neighbours to suffer this reproach in my presence. 
 For as the Devil hates the Cross, so I hate John de Burg 
 and all his deeds. And I will take oath that I have not 
 seen his face these twenty years, nor wish to see it again 
 all the days of my life. And I will take oath that it is 
 an incredible thing he should be under my roof, even 
 for one night. Call the witness of my eight servants 
 and of my many guests." 
 
 " I perceive not," said Elijah Waring, " what it would 
 advantage Roger Prideaux to put John de Burg in the 
 place of Harald Sandys. The latter, though an offender 
 against the law, is at least an offender with clean hands, 
 having the plea of honourable conviction in his breaking 
 of the law. John de Burg, with red hands, has broken 
 not only the law of God, but the law of every nation on 
 the face of the earth." 
 
 " On my soul ! the advantage is plain enough. Harald 
 Sandys, being cousin to the late lord, is heir-at-law of 
 the estate bought by the Quaker Prideaux. John de 
 Burg is outlawed of all estate. And 't is within my 
 knowledge that Prideaux was borrowing money to give 
 Harald Sandys. \Vho so blind as not to perceive that 
 when the heir had been disposed of for a time the old
 
 154 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 rogue would sell Sandys and realize again the guineas 
 he had spent upon its purchase ? Oh ! 't was a very 
 Quaker-like plot, and I make no doubt your Worships 
 see it." 
 
 " Think you 't was for money Harald Sandys visited 
 Prideaux?" 
 
 " Never trust me if I see not the truth clear behind 
 all pretences. Charles Stuart wanting an emissary to the 
 Quakers, mutinous under their deserved punishments, 
 naturally sends Sandys, who knows well this corner of 
 Westmoreland, the nesting-place of this Devil's doctrine ; 
 and Sandys naturally applies himself to the Quaker, so 
 conveniently placed both for his own rights and for those 
 of the king that was. And further, Edward D'Acre 
 can testify that the guest of Roger Prideaux was truly 
 Sandys. Also offer Prideaux and his man Asa Bevin the 
 oath of allegiance, and see if they will take it ; I vow 
 they will not." 
 
 "There is no need of any further evidence," said Par 
 son Derby. " The case against Prideaux is fully proved." 
 
 " It is most certain," added Parke. " Nevertheless 
 he shall have every show of justice. He shall speak for 
 himself. Let Roger Prideaux be sworn to his own 
 words." 
 
 " I have not been given anything to say in this matter. 
 My daughter has witnessed for me. She spoke the 
 truth." 
 
 "Then," said Parke, "Roger Prideaux must be sent 
 to Appleby jail for trial at the next general assize ; and if 
 Asa Bevin take not the oath of allegiance, he must also 
 go upon that failure." 
 
 " I am an honest lover of the Commonwealth," an 
 swered Asa, " but I will not swear to it at thy command ; 
 for the words of Christ, as I have told thee already, are
 
 THE KINGS SERVANTS. 155 
 
 positive regarding oath-taking, ' Swear not at all,' and I 
 will not make light of them to give thy words honour. 
 Not I, indeed ! " 
 
 " Then you send yourself to prison." 
 
 " Nay, but thou sendest me, because I will not sell 
 my conscience for a mess of pottage." 
 
 Then the clerk began to write out the necessary papers 
 of commitment, and the petty court rose, the magis 
 trates and citizens forming into little groups eagerly full 
 of the same subject, the plotting of the Quakers against 
 the Commonwealth, and their obstinacy in their own 
 opinions. 
 
 De Burg and his party drew together with a sense of 
 triumph. Parson Derby wished only that " there were 
 jails enough in England to send every Quaker to the 
 Devil through them ; " and a Calvinist preacher, standing 
 by, certified the wish with a quotation from the devout 
 and learned Richard Baxter, dooming all Quakers, " with 
 out reserve, to certain perdition." De Burg himself was 
 sullenly angry. He hated his name and affairs in the 
 mouth of " the villain crowd," and his heart was burning 
 with wrath against Anastasia and the Kelders. He stood 
 by the side of Sir Edward le Tall, saying nothing to him, 
 but assuring his savagely offended inner man of reprisals 
 hardly to be accomplished without some devilish help. 
 
 Le Tall, De Burg, and Parson Derby quickly left the 
 room ; Anastasia lingered a little behind. She had re 
 ceived one look from her father promissory of what was 
 yet to come, and it roused in her a desire to pay some 
 one in advance. Drawing up her gloves and setting all 
 her bravery in order, she strolled past Asa Bevin. He 
 was standing in charge of a constable, waiting the written 
 order for his commitment, and she regarded him with 
 eyes of malicious triumph.
 
 156 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Have I done what I promised to do? " she asked. 
 
 " The Devil through thee hath done what he was per 
 mitted to do. His servants never want work, but he pays 
 ill wages, Anastasia de Burg. Seek thee a better master." 
 
 In a moment Chenage struck him, and the old man 
 fell to the floor. Olivia, whose face was on her father's 
 breast, saw nothing of the circumstance, but as Anas 
 tasia turned she met the full gaze of Nathaniel Kelder. 
 What shame for her there was in it ! His eyes burned 
 her somewhere beyond mortal touch. She dropped her 
 own to escape the piercing glance that made her blush 
 and quiver with an intolerable chagrin ; and though she 
 held her head high, her laugh was uneasy, and her spirit 
 cowered before him and was glad to escape his presence. 
 
 The upper part of the room was then almost empty, 
 but there was a crush of delaying gossips around the en 
 trance. Suddenly a man taller than any around him ap 
 peared, and they instantly parted right and left and 
 made a path for him. He had a fair, large, radiant face, 
 and a carriage full of authority. He went straight to 
 Prideaux and laid his hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Friend Roger, I have just heard of thy trouble. 
 How is it with thee in the storm?" 
 
 " It rages all around me, but not above me." 
 
 " The soul has two houses, Roger, one in the 
 meadows, that is Love ; one in the mountains, that is 
 Faith. Flee now to the mountains ; from thence cometh 
 thy help. Olivia, my dear daughter, Jenifer Waring waits 
 for thee. Shall I take thee to her? " 
 
 " I will take her," said Nathaniel. 
 
 " Thou art a good, brave man. I thought that of thee 
 at the first. Wait for me outside. I have a special word 
 for thee." 
 
 Then Olivia knew that the moment of parting had
 
 THE KING'S SERVANTS. 157 
 
 come ; but she filled its little space with a whisper of 
 vastest comfort. And so they said farewell like those 
 who trust in God ; the ring of faith in their voices, the 
 smile of hope on their lips. 
 
 Many looked at the lovers as they walked through the 
 room and down the steps together, Nathaniel very erect, 
 yet holding Olivia's hand with a tender pride that si 
 lenced every unkind word At the door they found Je 
 nifer Waring waiting in her coach for Olivia, and she 
 received her with a sober kindness that the most timid 
 must have trusted. 
 
 " Olivia Prideaux will find shelter in my house so long 
 as she wishes," she said to Nathaniel ; and then she 
 gathered her in her arms, and gave the word which sep 
 arated the sorrowful lovers. 
 
 In the mean time Roger was rapidly giving Fox the 
 points upon which his accusation hung, and Fox was lis 
 tening with the air of a man who already knew them. 
 
 " These things I will care for, Roger," he answered. 
 " In the will of God thou must go now as he makes way. 
 It seems then that thou art wanted at Appleby jail. See 
 thou kindlest a fire there and leave it burning. And 
 verily I know that God keeps for his people in prison 
 consolations' such as he gives nowhere else. On the 
 bare ground I have had sweet sleep ; and in the midnight 
 God's comforting presence has awakened me, and con 
 tinued with me unto the morning watch. Thy enemies 
 are his enemies. Verily, he will arise and scatter them. 
 And of thy bitterest cup thou shalt say joyfully, ' My God 
 is the portion of it.' " 
 
 " George, thy words are strong to lean upon. Say a 
 few to Asa Bevin." 
 
 Asa was just rising from the floor, and still dazed and 
 trembling with the shock of the blow.
 
 158 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " George, is it thee ? I have been struck." 
 
 " Well, then, Asa, thy Lord Christ was also struck and 
 buffeted. He knows all about the pain and the shame. 
 Fear not." 
 
 " I fear nothing that man can do unto me. Not I ! " 
 
 "There is a hard road before thee." 
 
 " I see His footsteps on it." 
 
 " And a steep road, shelving down even to the depths 
 of the grave." 
 
 " I lean upon the Cross. A good staff ! It will never 
 fail me." 
 
 " Farewell, Asa ! I have been given to see that we 
 shall meet no more in this world." 
 
 " Well, then, George, it is a good farewell ; " and step 
 ping forward, and lifting up his hands, palms outward, 
 he said, " Bear witness that for all the mercies I have 
 received I praise and magnify my God ! " 
 
 The old man was at this moment beautiful. The 
 shining of the Light within transfigured him ; and, like 
 Stephen of old, his face was like " the face of an 
 angel." The spirit mastered the flesh, and George Fox 
 saw not the outer but the inner man. 
 
 So Roger Prideaux and Asa Bevin went that day to 
 Appleby jail, but the Lord went with them.
 
 IX. 
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 
 
 " He that hateth suretiship is sure." 
 
 " For the good angel will keep him company, and his journey shall be 
 prosperous, and he shall return safe." 
 
 " Where the Devil cannot go, he sends a woman." 
 
 T T AVING seen Olivia depart with Jenifer Waring, 
 -*- * Nathaniel waited for Fox at the door of the Town 
 Hall. He came to him with Roger and Asa, and the 
 short, sharp parting of the four men was made in the 
 passing. Then Fox said, " Come, Nathaniel, thou hath 
 now no time for delay ; " and as they walked together to 
 the Crown Inn, and while Nathaniel packed his saddle 
 bag, Fox urged upon him the necessity of an immediate 
 journey to London. 
 
 " Thou must truly go home and get thy father's author 
 ity to act in this place, but thou must not otherwise linger 
 a moment. It is within my knowledge that Stephen and 
 Anastasia de Burg intend to leave England, and that at 
 the first hour possible." 
 
 " Who has told you so, George? " 
 
 " Who ? Dost thou think God has no way of speaking 
 but through the lips of a man? I tell thee their secret 
 chambers have been seen by me, and my ears have heard 
 the false words they have whispered together. Ride as, 
 swiftly as the best horses can carry thee, and spare not 
 thine own strength, for thy urgency in this matter may 
 Under great sorrow to thy father and mother."
 
 I6O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 11 My father did a noble kindness for the love of God and 
 kindred. I think, then, that God will guard him in it." 
 
 " God gives us good things with our own hands. If he 
 wills thee to be providence to thy parents he does thee a 
 great honour. Dispute not with him concerning it. And 
 take no half-word from Cromwell; stand stanchly by thy 
 case and thou wilt win it." 
 
 " I think my father is such a man as will stand to his 
 promise, though it bring him to ruin." 
 
 " I think that also, if this were an honest agreement 
 between man and man, but it is the plotting of the wicked 
 against the merciful and righteous ; and as the wind sown 
 came out of their granary, thou must do thy part to make 
 them reap the whirlwind. Farewell, Nathaniel." And 
 the lofty confidence of the man's soul gave to his majestic 
 person an authority so pronounced that Nathaniel felt it 
 impossible either to dispute the wisdom or to doubt the 
 result of the order given him. 
 
 So he left Kendal at a hard gallop, and as he neared 
 the sea he began to feel the daring that the good salt wind 
 blew into his nostrils. Then his heart burned with the 
 injustice and bigotry he had witnessed, and he was blame 
 lessly angry at the ingratitude which compelled him not 
 only to take back a kindness, but also to leave the woman 
 he loved, in her sorrow and loneliness, and undergo the 
 annoyance and loss of a long and weariful journey. But 
 while the sun dropped in tired splendour below the hori 
 zon, and the stars moved along the edges of the hills, and 
 the hills grew larger in the twilight, and all Nature seemed 
 to be lying asleep in the diffused silence and dusk, he 
 gathered strength for the task with every mile he rode ; 
 for he felt the presence of God in that communion which 
 is the peace and power of the spirit. 
 
 It was so late when he reached Kelderby that all the
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTAS1A. l6l 
 
 household were in bed. But the baron was not asleep ; 
 he heard the gallop of Nathaniel's horse while he was a 
 good way off, and he rose and opened the door and met 
 his son on the threshold. The two men went into the 
 dark house together, and for some minutes were fully oc 
 cupied in getting a light and in replenishing the fire, for 
 the nights on that bleak coast were generally chill and 
 damp enough to warrant a blazing log. 
 
 While they were thus engaged Lady Kelder entered. 
 She was desirous to see that Nathaniel's physical wants 
 were attended to, but she had also an anxious curiosity 
 about the trial. As the baron lifted himself from the 
 hearth, and Nathaniel transferred the blaze from the 
 brimstone-tipped pine sliver to the candle, she said, 
 
 " How went the trial, Nathaniel?" 
 
 " As Roger's enemies had preordained, Mother. They 
 have sent him to Appleby jail." 
 
 " Indeed, I see not how they could have done different. 
 Magistrates must go upon evidence." 
 
 " They sent Asa Bevin there also." 
 
 " Like master, like man. I make no doubt Asa was 
 equally guilty." 
 
 " Roger put human kindness before human prudence ; 
 Asa put the law of God before the commands of Judah 
 Parke. I see no other fault in the men." 
 
 " Are you also become a Quaker? " 
 
 " I would that my religion were like theirs, heart- 
 thorough, inside and outside alike. Roger Prideaux is 
 a man who has a perfect heart toward God." 
 
 " A perfect heart ! " ejaculated the baron in a low 
 voice. "A perfect heart ! Oh, finest of wares ! " 
 
 '' And what is done with the girl? Did she give evi 
 dence against her father? If she did, I think nothing 
 of her." 
 
 ii
 
 1 62 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " She told the truth. She could do no less and be 
 innocent." 
 
 " Faith ! When my father was in hiding for Non-con 
 formity, I would have bit out my tongue ere I had made 
 his enemies as wise as myself. I would, surely ! Yea, I 
 would have misled them rather than have sent my father 
 to prison, which, indeed, is mostly the same as a warrant 
 of death." 
 
 " Olivia obeyed the desire of her father. He said to 
 her, ' Truth can do without a lie. Do not even look one.' 
 But I have come home in this hurry on our own special 
 business." Then he repeated what George Fox had told 
 him, and urged upon his father an instant attention to 
 such writing as was necessary to enable him again to act 
 for both. 
 
 The baron heard him with a strange restlessness. He 
 rose before Nathaniel's message was all given, and went 
 to the window and looked into the darksome garden. 
 Lady Kelder's face reddened with an eager flush, and she 
 answered promptly, 
 
 " For once a Quaker has spoken words with some wis 
 dom in them. You had better leave at dawn, Nathaniel. 
 I have already called Jael, and she will prepare such 
 things as you need. There are still some hours in which 
 you may rest and sleep." 
 
 " Mother, I will leave at once, unless my father wills 
 to interfere no further in the matter." 
 
 Then the baron turned sharply and said, " I will go to 
 London myself. Joan, dear heart, have my best velvet 
 suit and my flemish laces put up, with such other things 
 as are necessary. I am well able for the journey, and 
 before dawn I can be near to Lancaster." 
 
 " Odinel ! Odinel ! You shall'not leave me. Let Na 
 thaniel go. He did well before. He is quite sufficient."
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 163 
 
 "You are unreasonable, Jodn. All day you have 
 fretted in your heart at me ; you have made constant 
 moan for Kelderby ; you have wished that you were only 
 a man, that you might say one word to save it. Now, 
 then, have my bag filled ; for I tell you surely that with it, 
 or without it, I will leave Kelderby for London in thirty 
 minutes." 
 
 " Let me go with you, Father." 
 
 " Nay, I will do this thing alone, going in the strength 
 of my God, Nathaniel." 
 
 " Do you wish to go, Father? " 
 
 " My wish is to stay out of the world, and 't is a cross 
 indeed to face the strife and struggle of it again. But I 
 fear not ; for as I stood by the window I heard with my 
 inward ear the voice I waited for, and it said, ' Go. If 
 I send, do I ever fail thee therein ? ' " 
 
 It was impossible further to gainsay by a word or a look 
 the purpose of the man. With the rapid energy of years 
 past by he began to select such papers as he wanted, and 
 to count out gold for the necessities of the journey. The 
 few words he spoke to Nathaniel about the horse he 
 wished were so curt and positive that Lady Kelder made 
 no more remonstrance. She saw again the masterful 
 leader, the man who in camp or court had always stood 
 for the rights of others, and also held his own. As he 
 impatiently changed his chamber-gown and felt slippers 
 for long jack-boots and a buff leather jerkin, and fastened 
 round his shoulders the heavy cloth cloak that he had 
 worn on many a midnight watch, Lady Kelder caught the 
 spirit of her husband, and she hasted with willing hands 
 the special preparations which fell naturally to her 
 ordering. 
 
 So when the horse was brought to the door, and the 
 baron, ready for the journey, stood by his wife's side, say-
 
 164 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 ing the bra.vest and kindest words he could find in his 
 brave, kind heart, she answered them hopefully, keeping 
 back tears, and crowning her kiss with a tender smile. 
 And after all, the hurried parting is the best parting. 
 'T is doubtful if any one even lovers do well to pro 
 long their sweet sorrow. Emotion is weakened by every 
 moment of time it covers, just as water spread over the 
 valley is shallow, but pent in one deep channel becomes 
 a driving force. 
 
 Kelder had chosen a fleet hunter to take him the first 
 stage of his journey, and the animal soon carried him be 
 yond the echoes of its beating hoofs. Then Nathaniel 
 and Lady Kelder went back to the parlour and sat down 
 together. She was still under the influence of the baron's 
 heroic mood, and as she sat gazing into the fire her face 
 grew soft and loving and her heart glowed again with the 
 long- forgotten pride she had felt for the husband of 
 her youth. 
 
 " Your father has taken us by storm, Nathaniel. For a 
 long time I have not seen him so much like himself. 
 Now, pray resolve me truly if we are like to lose Kelderby. 
 Or think you this journey may be its ransom? " 
 
 " I think that my father's journey will save Kelderby." 
 
 " But if it does, then there is this affair of the Quaker 
 Prideaux." 
 
 " My father hath no hand in that." 
 
 " But you have. And what good is it if the fire that is 
 quenched in the chimney be scattered about the floor? 
 Oh, Nathaniel ! Nathaniel ! if you would be wise and re 
 sign a girl who has brought you and is only like to bring 
 trouble. Ill fortune is catching as the small-pox; why 
 should you take trouble from a stranger?" 
 
 " Trouble springs not from the ground, Mother, for 
 ' man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.'
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 165 
 
 But why inquire of the future ? T is like going into a 
 warfare for which no weapon is provided. God is a pres 
 ent help. And 't is easily seen that we have present ills 
 in plenty, without forecasting those not yet here. The 
 ingratitude of our cousin De Burg " 
 
 " Is what I expected. Nothing grows old sooner than 
 a kindness." 
 
 " We have never done aught but good to De Burg, and 
 he has returned us tenfold evil." 
 
 " Well, then, to every evil-doer his evil day ; and as 
 for this Roger Prideaux " 
 
 " He is a good man, Mother. But the world likes its 
 own, and Roger is not among the number." 
 
 " Roger, like others of the trading-class who have been 
 aggrandized by the ruin of better men than themselves, 
 cannot let affairs too high for him alone. He must be 
 patron to Sandys or De Burg, and now he has to eat the 
 husk of their evil speech. And as for this saint, Olivia, 
 she is better than what is either written or called for. 
 Her father is little indebted to her extravagant goodness." 
 
 " Nothing, not even martyrdom, could prevent Olivia 
 speaking the plain truth. It is a necessity of her nature." 
 
 " Indeed, I think martyrdom a very poor test of truth. 
 Men suffer half the time, not for their convictions, but to 
 gratify their stubbornness. Nine out of ten would rather 
 yield their lives than their tempers. That is the nature 
 of Englishmen, as 't is the nature of English dogs. Oh ! 
 I can tell you, Nathaniel, the Devil lurks often behind the 
 Cross." 
 
 " Dear mother, as to this world the Quakers get noth 
 ing and lose everything." 
 
 "They get their own way. Is there really anything 
 more gratifying? " 
 
 " They are truly conscientious."
 
 1 66 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " About trivialities, yes, as to wearing of hats and 
 speaking as no one else does, and the like ; picking up 
 the most insignificant questions with their conscience, 
 instead of their common-sense. That is .their righteous 
 way of walking over people's heads." 
 
 " 'T is a way of righteous self-denial." 
 
 " Yes, and they like it. After all, Nathaniel, it is easier 
 to deny sinful-self than righteous-self." 
 
 " We talk to no purpose, Mother, and I am strangely 
 tired." 
 
 Then they both arose and Nathaniel gave her his arm 
 up the dark stairs. He had a candle in one hand, but its 
 faint light only made the thick gloom more visible and 
 portentous. They looked like two figures in a walking 
 sleep, and Jael peeped after them through the partly 
 opened door with the feeling that she was seeing people 
 in a dream. 
 
 At the same hour Anastasia sat alone in her chamber, 
 slowly removing the rings and chains and silk and laces 
 that enhanced her splendid beauty. There had been a 
 late supper and much wine-drinking and gambling at 
 De Burg that night, and she had been the gayest in the 
 crowd. She had sung wondrously to her lute ; she had 
 danced a galliard with Le Tall ; she had played cribbage, 
 and won gold pieces at it ; she had queened it over every 
 heart, and charmed even her father out of his present 
 mood of anger. But she was now alone, and she was 
 really miserable. 
 
 " I am the greatest fool in the three kingdoms," she 
 said bitterly, as she put the mirror at a proper angle and 
 sat down before it. " Beauty ! Yes, I have beauty, but 
 what is it worth? Do I care if Le Tall and Chenage 
 fight a duel about me ? Nathaniel scorns me, and any-
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. l6/ 
 
 thing else is beyond expectation. Well, what I cannot 
 have I will be dog enough to hinder Mistress Prideaux of, 
 if I can. But now that I have raised the storm, shall 
 I be able to manage it? I have already in its ordering 
 lied myself neck-deep, and one lie breeds more, and 
 black lies have crimson fruit. Chut ! My heart surely 
 hath the bravery to perfect its own wishes, and my little 
 tongue never failed me yet." And she put its scarlet tip 
 out and looked at it steadily. " 'T is as good as a sword, 
 if one knows how to use it." 
 
 Then she unlatched her shoes of red morocco, and 
 took the pins out of her black hair, and let its waving, 
 curling mass fall over her shoulders and bosom. The 
 particularly picturesque disorder it assumed arrested her 
 attention. She studied its forms for future use, and 
 passed a ten minutes in fingering and recurling her favour 
 ite lock. Then, noticing a number of gold pieces lying 
 loose upon the table, she counted and put them away. 
 They had been won from Chenage ; she recalled the 
 gleam of anger in his eyes as he paid the debt of ill 
 chance, and she laughed softly as she dropped the money 
 in its place. 
 
 " He thought I cheated him ! Faith ! I am in the 
 selfsame mind. There is a big bill running up between 
 Chenage and me. Shall I be forced to pay it? or will 
 he be forced to lose it?" She rose with the query, 
 opened a drawer, and took from it a pack of cards. 
 With a slow intentness she shuffled them hither and 
 thither, set some aside, and cast out others. Then she 
 spread the others before her, and began to spell out 
 their mysteries. 
 
 " Chenage is black with anger ; he carries the trey 
 of spades, and the nine follows him. He has a villain 
 heart, and I '11 swear to it ! What is this ? Prison bars,
 
 1 68 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and a great change, and news from beyond seas, and 
 tears in my own breast. That last is a lie, if all else 
 be true. I am well used to jade Fortune's tricks, and 
 fear none of them." Yet she flung the paper oracles 
 at her feet, and went to bed with the shadow of her 
 own evil divination over her. 
 
 But her sleep was not troubled by the ill fortune she 
 had spelled out in her divining cards. Indeed, she was 
 of that class of mortals whose sleep is the sleep of pure 
 matter, and who are very rarely visited by the winged 
 dreams. If her soul ever wandered afar on its own 
 business or pleasure, she knew it not. It told her noth 
 ing of what it saw. It gave her neither warning nor 
 admonition. She shut her eyes as a tired animal does, 
 and thought nothing of the breathing mystery behind 
 her unconscious rest. 
 
 She awoke with the influence of the previous day 
 upon her. The triumphs of the trial with its swift after 
 thought of worry and fear ; the feasting and dancing and 
 gambling ; the sense of her father's deferred wrath ; 
 the sense of Le Tail's half-scornful admiration, and of 
 the almost savage earnestness of Chenage's love and 
 anger, these things and their various smaller aids 
 struck her consciousness the moment it was awake to 
 mortal questions. They did not daunt her. The bright 
 June sunshine flooded the bed, and in its glory she lay 
 in indolent satisfaction, gathering together the tangled 
 ends of her affairs, and looking at them steadily in their 
 very worst aspects. 
 
 For every day has its genius, and the genius of this 
 day was of an anxious questioning bent. It would not 
 suffer her to be still, so she slipped out of bed and be 
 gan the business of her toilet, keeping, by unconscious 
 preference, in the very brightest band of sunshine. And
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 169 
 
 as she splashed the cold water over her arms and face 
 and bosom, and brushed out her tangled curls, she was 
 busy enough with plans and projects of safety and re 
 venge, yet not so busy as to make her negligent about 
 her personal adornment. 
 
 Thoughts troublesome to any woman angry, jeal 
 ous thoughts went to and fro in her mind, threaten 
 ing, supposing, longing, and fearing; but they did not 
 prevent her studying the effect of her broidered hose 
 and scarlet shoes, and putting her pretty feet in every 
 position that gave her a good view of them. She was 
 burning with indignation at Nathaniel, she was full of 
 scorn for Olivia, she was sick at heart whenever she 
 thought of Chenage ; but amid the tumult of such cross 
 and vexed passions she found time and interest to try 
 on several petticoats before she decided that the pale 
 blue one would show off best the snowy sweep of her 
 long white tunic. Only a woman in such a storm of 
 anxious feeling could have so deliberately arranged each 
 curl and plait, pinched each ruffle of point afresh, turned 
 every crumpled bow, studied before the mirror the flow 
 of her garments and the exact length of step they re 
 quired, and yet throughout each trivial act considered 
 with a conscious method the best way to keep herself out 
 of the sorrow and ruin she would gladly work for others. 
 
 When her toilet was completed, she went slowly down 
 the stairway. With her hand upon the thick, black 
 balustrade, step by step, she went down. There was 
 a long, richly painted window behind her ; and she 
 moved in the glory of its many-tinted lights, knowing 
 well how fair her white-robed figure, with its touches of 
 red and blue, looked in that dim splendour of change 
 ful colour. She lingered because she hoped that Le Tall 
 or Chenage might pass through the hall and see her;
 
 170 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 for so contradictious is a woman's vanity, that, even when 
 a man is troublesomely in love, she cannot resist the 
 opportunity to make him still more so. 
 
 However, she found the house empty of all company. 
 Le Tall and Chenage had gone away immediately after 
 breakfast, and De Burg had betaken himself to the 
 meadows to watch the haymakers. 
 
 " 'T is a moment's peace, and I thank my stars for 
 it," she said cheerily to the steward. " I will have a 
 breakfast to my mind, Martin, a rustical breakfast fit 
 for a dairymaid. Bring me fresh eggs, and new milk, 
 and the manchet loaf of wheat flour, and a plate of 
 cherries ; and, Martin, I will have the milk in the china 
 bowl tipped with silver, that hath the Virgin and the 
 Child at the bottom of it. And bring me a napkin 
 of fine diaper, and put that posy of honeysuckles near 
 by me. Faith ! I shall taste the flowers in my milk!" 
 And Martin, who delighted in serving this handsome, 
 well-dressed, imperiously pleasant mistress, brought all 
 she wished, with a hasty officiousness that bespoke his 
 willing service. 
 
 "What time was breakfast served, Martin?" 
 
 "An hour after sunrising, Mistress, and great dis 
 content at your absence shown." 
 
 " Who was discontented, Martin? " She was chipping 
 the tip of an egg with the greatest deliberation ; and her 
 smile was so ravishing that if Martin had had to break 
 every commandment to answer her, he must needs have 
 pleased himself and have done it. 
 
 " 'T was Squire Chenage the most, and the other 
 gentleman also; and the master grumbling for himself 
 and all." 
 
 " That was like to be. And pray what did they break 
 their fast on?"
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 1 71 
 
 " I served some ribs of cold roast beef, and a dish 
 of buttered salmon, and each a bottle of sack ; also, the 
 wormwood wine at the first of all." 
 
 "They would need the wormwood. I bless myself 
 that I was absent from the discontented gentlemen, 
 for I dearly love a simple meal, Martin. Faith ! I 
 think I have the innocent tastes of a child yet. Cher 
 ries and milk are my delight." And she lifted admir 
 ingly a bunch of the crimson drupes, and laid them with 
 anticipative enjoyment against her crimson lips. 
 
 On the whole she had a pleasant meal ; and when 
 it was over she found herself able to face the day, nay, 
 rather anxious for such encounters as it might bring her. 
 But nothing followed on her " Come what may, I am 
 ready for it." Fate was out of hearing, and her chal 
 lenge was for some hours unanswered. She found it 
 difficult to fill them to her satisfaction. To be alone, 
 that was a condition of ennui and weariness to her. She 
 tried playing shuttlecock ; but there was no one to see 
 her pretty attitudes, and it disarranged her dress. Then 
 she practised the new French step taught her the pre 
 vious night by Le Tall ; and as she watched her scarlet 
 shoes playing hide-and-seek behind and before her 
 petticoat, she bethought her of Sir John Suckling's 
 ballad, and so, quoting it, made the words keep the 
 rhythm of her motions : 
 
 " Her feet beneath her petticoat 
 Like little mice stole in and out, 
 
 As if they feared the light ; 
 But, oh ! she dances such a way, 
 No sun upon an Easter day 
 
 Is half so fine a sight ! " 
 
 In a little while she wearied of her dancing, and took a 
 book. But having no liking for reading, and the volume
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 lifted proving to be Alsted's " Encyclopaedia," she soon 
 laid it down with the impatient comment, 
 
 " 'T is the veriest nonsense, I believe. If the bell has 
 any sides, the clapper will find them ; and if there was 
 any savour of sense in the book, 't is to be believed I 
 should hit upon something worth the reading." 
 
 Then she took her finery and her pretty, gracious 
 ways to the housekeeper, and asked what sweet waters 
 were making in the still-room, and discoursed about the 
 excellence of elderflower pomade for the skin, and even 
 condescended to inquire as to the dishes for the day's 
 dinner. 
 
 But all this was but a trifling with Fate, and exceedingly 
 unsatisfactory. She had set herself to a certain high 
 mental pitch, anticipating a battle royal with her father, 
 and possibly with Chenage ; and she felt that there was 
 an unfortunate want of communication between her mood 
 and its objects. As the morning and the long, hot after 
 noon crept slowly away, her spirit flagged ; she grew 
 fearful in the crowding thoughts that assailed her, she 
 began to feel as if something were going to happen. 
 
 It was night, however, before the slightest change 
 came. She had taken dinner, and was lying on a sofa, 
 idly touching the strings of her lute. A song, " To the 
 Virgins, to make much of Time," with the notes at 
 tached, was beside her; and she was singing it with a 
 very listless air, 
 
 " Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 
 
 Old Time is still a-flying ; 
 And this same flower, that smiles to-day, 
 To-morrow will be dying." 
 
 De Burg entered at the third line. He was rating the 
 servant who followed him about some household neg 
 lect, and he continued the occupation while the man
 
 THE BARON AN1> ANASTASIA. 173 
 
 took off his heavy riding-boots and clasped on his feet 
 shoes of more light and easy make. He did not notice 
 Anastasia ; and she continued her melancholy song, but 
 with such a nervous hand that at the word " dying " 
 a string snapped with a sharpness that had something 
 ominous in it. Then she laid down the lute, rose from 
 die sofa, and arranged her skirts with such elaborate 
 care that the petty interest irritated De Burg; and he 
 broke in two a brutal epithet he was bestowing upon 
 the servant, in order to turn round and say, 
 
 " Shake your bravery less, Mistress ; you set my teeth 
 on edge." 
 
 She answered him by a shrug of her shoulders, and 
 an inquiring stare which he felt but would not see. 
 Then softly humming the refrain of her interrupted ditty, 
 she went hither and thither in the darksome room ; 
 shutting a casement, putting the encyclopaedia in its 
 place, re-arranging the honeysuckles in their bowl, 
 aggravatingly indifferent to all but the trifles that caught 
 her passing glance, and quite conscious that the trailing 
 of her silk and lawn, and the unconcerned meaning 
 less repetition of " Gather-ye-rose-buds Gather- ye- 
 rose-buds Gather-ye-rose-buds," was exasperating her 
 father to the highest degree. 
 
 " Light the candles, Jock." 
 
 The man was leaving the room, but he turned back 
 to obey her command ; and in the interval she walked 
 about with her hands clasped behind her back, and her 
 head lifted high to the thoughts gradually gathering 
 passion in her angry, fearful heart. But she still hid 
 all emotion in fitful bars of the same mournful mel 
 ody : " To-morrow-will-be-dying To-morrow-will-be- 
 dying To " 
 
 The closing of the door broke the word in two, and
 
 174 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the sharp clash was followed in a moment by an order 
 just as sharp : 
 
 " Come here, Asia ! " 
 
 She went toward him, and stood by the small table 
 holding the two candles. One of her hands rested on 
 it ; she was erect and watchful, yet withal conscious of 
 that unconquerable fear which is the result of a lifelong 
 habit of obedience, founded upon traditions of absolute 
 right. 
 
 " Asia ! you have brewed a pretty kettle of broth for 
 me. I shall need the Devil's spoon to sup it with." 
 
 " He is always willing to lend it." 
 
 " To a woman, yes. But I am not going to sup the 
 broth. No, in faith ! They who brewed may borrow. 
 I tell you, Kendal is in a fever of discontent about 
 yesterday's work." 
 
 " The Kendal Quakers, you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean such men as young Strickland, who holds 
 Quakers and Puritans and Royalists, all of them, at his 
 word. He met me in Stricklandgate this afternoon, and 
 refused me his hand on this business. He said, more 
 over, that I had been false to my kindred, and false to 
 my king, and false to my honour; and that he would 
 prove every charge at his sword's point. And listen, 
 Mistress ! Captain Bellingham stood by him ! Heaven 
 and hell ! " he shouted, as he rose and stamped his foot 
 to the adjuration, " I '11 strangle both ; yes, both of them 
 with their own blood." 
 
 " Playing ' Pistol ' won't mend matters, sir. Try to 
 understand yourself, and be reasonable. 'Tis beyond 
 doubt you have been false to Kelder, and intend yet 
 more of the same business. 'Tis beyond doubt that 
 men will say you wrong your own honour in wronging 
 Kelder's surety for it j but wherein you have been false
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 175 
 
 to the king, I see not. On that quarrel you may stand 
 firmly." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! You see with one eye, and I was so 
 great a fool as to let you see for me. The main count of 
 Strickland's charge is, that I have been a traitor to King 
 Charles in that I interfered with his messenger." 
 
 " 'T was against Prideaux, and not against Sandys, 
 you moved. A fine thing when nobles like Strickland 
 stand up for Quakers ! " 
 
 " Confusion to it all ! See you not that if Sandys 
 went to Penrith, he went there only to see one great 
 lord, who must now lie under still heavier suspicions. 
 And Prideaux, though a Quaker serving the king's pur 
 pose, is a loyal man in Strickland's eyes. He said plainly 
 to me that an injury to men doing the king's work 
 secretly was a wrong to the king beyond pardon. Fool ! 
 fool ! I never thought of the matter in that light. And 
 'twas a beggarly return to Kelder for his kindness, all 
 to serve a woman's jealous spite. Fool ! fool ! fool ! " 
 
 " You know best what name fits you, sir ; but 't was 
 not specially to serve my spite. 'T was because you had 
 not humility to say, ' Thank you very kindly, sir,' to your 
 cousin Kelder ; and because you grudged Sandys to the 
 Quaker Prideaux, and hoped to work him out of the 
 estate, and so make room for De Burg. Pray be so far 
 honest with me. I shall think no worse of you for it." 
 
 " As to Harald Sandys, 't was the most unfortunate of 
 names." 
 
 "Then they think surely it was Sandys? " 
 
 "They would swear it, for 'tis their desire. Sandys 
 and Strickland have been friends for generations, and 
 Bellingham has with Sandys still closer ties. See you 
 not, then, how I have offended them both in their 
 personal and political affections? And who would care
 
 1/6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 to live in Kendal with Strickland and Bellingham for 
 enemies? As well live in Rome, and strive with the 
 Pope." 
 
 " Tell them the truth, if you think it needful." 
 
 " Tell them that an honourable name like Sandys was 
 used to shield a villain like John ! They would either of 
 them stab me with the words in my mouth ; and, by my 
 soul ! 't would serve me right." 
 
 He was walking the floor in a fury of distracted pas 
 sions, and Anastasia, white with physical terror, watched 
 him with a sense of 'hopelessness of which she had never 
 before been conscious. What could she do or say to 
 undo what she had said and done? Nothing. And 
 as for all her personal enchantments, in that hour she 
 learned how impotent they were against the impregnable 
 principles of honour and gratitude and inflexible justice. 
 The defection of Bellingham smote her on every side. 
 She had believed her influence over him to be absolute. 
 She could scarcely credit his desertion until she remem 
 bered that he had not called to see her after he 
 heard of Prideaux's prosecution. She feared Chenage ; 
 she liked the gay-hearted Bellingham, and had always 
 regarded him as the final resort if her circumstances 
 became beyond her own management. To lose his love 
 was to lose her anchor ; she had the sense of drifting on 
 stormy waves, rolling hither and thither to the passionate 
 bluster of De Burg's anger and mortification. 
 
 " Only one course is now left, Asia." 
 
 "To go to the king? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I am ready at any hour." 
 
 " You ? It is impossible now to take you." 
 
 She turned as if she had been suddenly struck, her 
 face expressing the same anger and astonishment.
 
 THE BARON AND Ai\ 7 ASTASIA. I'J'J 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " You must marry Chenage." 
 
 I will not ! " 
 
 " You will ! And that with all convenient speed." 
 
 A shrill cry smote her lips apart. " Father ! father ! 
 hear me ! " 
 
 " I have heard you to my ruin." 
 
 " Let me go with you. I will bear anything, every 
 thing." She stepped to his side and laid her head 
 against his breast. Her distress was real and he felt 
 it ; but he had no comfort to give her. Not unkindly, 
 but with a positive firmness, he withdrew himself from 
 her embrace. 
 
 " Asia, meet your fate like a brave woman. You have 
 called it unto you." 
 
 " Let me at least have the reasons for my fate. Good 
 God ! how careless you are of my happiness." 
 
 " Let me tell you, when you bartered your happiness 
 for revenge 't was your own bargain. This considered, 
 shall I care for what you are reckless of ? " 
 
 " Anything but Chenage ! I fear him. I fear that 
 gray, lonely house among the mountains. Oh, father ! I 
 have seen my misery in his eyes. Spare me ! " 
 
 " There is no other way. I must abroad at the first 
 hour. Where am I to get the gold? Only from Chen- 
 age. I owe him much already, and he is willing to 
 cancel all, willing to give me two hundred pounds for 
 my expenses the day you are his wife. Fix that day 
 now. ' T is the only favour I can grant you." 
 
 " I will not be so cruel to myself. Father ! dear 
 father ! " 
 
 " You cannot kiss me out of concessions, Anastasia. 
 The only way to save De Burg is to be before Strick 
 land. When the king comes to his own he will have so 
 
 12
 
 178 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 many to right that any excuse will serve to pass some 
 of the many by. A word from Strickland and he would 
 take my rights, to right some other man." 
 " Sell the plate, sell all my jewels." 
 " Tell all and sundry that I am going ? Set old and 
 young Kelder to watch my movements, and have me put 
 under lock and key? Asia, you brewed this cup, drink 
 as you have brewed. Chenage is as fine a gentleman as 
 England breeds. He is rich and he loves you, and faith ! 
 you have often lead him to believe that you returned his 
 love. If you play with fire do not wonder if you get 
 burnt." 
 
 " I shall do my best to make him wretched." 
 " If you try that game with Chenage you will get 
 beat at it. I thought it was he that was to make you 
 wretched. To say truth, 't will be six for him, and half 
 a dozen for you." 
 
 " I will run away from him, and come to you." 
 There was an inquiry in her eyes which De Burg could 
 rot meet. It said so plainly, " If I do, will you shelter 
 me ? '' He turned to the sideboard, poured out a glass 
 of French spirits and drank it. A few minutes of silence 
 followed. Anastasia went to the sofa and sat down. 
 The hopeless droop of her handsome head was but the 
 outward sign of a far more terrible hopelessness of heart. 
 There are possibilities for women in these days that 
 were impossibilities two hundred years ago. Marriage 
 was then a final act ; no one regarded any divorce but 
 that of death as either practical or potential. Flight in 
 any direction, or for any purpose, was accompanied by 
 dangers so various that -an ordinary spirit could not con 
 template it without despair. Public opinion was abso 
 lutely on the side of the worst husband. Whether the 
 marriage ring was a chain or an ornament, society de-
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 1/9 
 
 manded from a woman all the obedience to its obliga 
 tions which was promised by the very act of wearing it. 
 
 These thoughts, and many like them, passed through 
 Anastasia's mind with the rapidity and vividness of a flash 
 of lightning ; and they had, as a sad accompaniment, her 
 keen disappointment of the contemplated change. She 
 had looked forward to the merry doings of that shabby 
 little court in Paris with such anticipations of triumph. 
 In her secret heart she had even planned the captivation 
 of the laughing, quaffing, carelessly good-natured monarch. 
 Were all her delightful day-dreams to end in Squire 
 Chenage and his great sorrowful-looking house? Des 
 perate as the circumstances environing her were, she 
 was resolved not to submit to them if it were possible 
 to escape a lot so repugnant and so final. 
 
 De Burg waited for her to speak. He was determined 
 not to weaken his ultimatum with many words. " Fix 
 the day, and fix it at the earliest possible date," was all 
 that he would say. His sulky silence, if she had known 
 it, was the sign of the white feather, of a certain pity for 
 the beautiful girl whom he was dooming to a life so hate 
 ful and hopeless to her. He felt that if he any longer 
 permitted her to weep and plead he must in some meas 
 ure give way, and so he retreated into the fortress of a 
 sulky silence. But Anastasia was not one who looked 
 below the surface for a motive. Her father's silence she 
 took for the evidence of an inflexible resolution. 
 
 " Let me have this night, Father. 1 commonly think 
 in the night. Then, if I see your plan to be the best, I 
 will take it of you, and let my own hopes go in God's 
 name." 
 
 She spoke in a low, tearful voice, and he could not 
 resist her request, though he was obliged to speak gruffly 
 in order to keep his position intact.
 
 I SO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " I '11 warrant you '11 come to your senses before 
 morning, Asia. Chenage is as good a gentleman as lives, 
 and his offer is to my great contentment. If you fall 
 a-crying now, you shall have the room to yourself. Peace, 
 I say!" 
 
 She shut the parlour door with a passionate force be 
 hind her, and fled like a frightened child up the dim 
 stairway to her room. She had a quick thought of the 
 Anastasia that passed slowly down it in the morning sun 
 shine, and a quick pity for the Anastasia hurrying through 
 its shadows at night, pursued by a fate pitiless and hateful 
 which she knew would overtake her. With trembling 
 haste she drew the large iron bolt across her own door ; 
 but she could not shut out the terror which was in her 
 heart. For a moment she stood in the scarcely lighted 
 room panting like a hunted creature ; then she lighted 
 several candles from the burning rush-light, and sat down 
 somewhat quieted by the act. 
 
 With angry vehemence she tossed aside the white robe 
 and blue silk petticoat. " I will never wear them again," 
 she muttered. " They are full of ill luck, they are the 
 colours of disappointment and misfortune to me. If this 
 is the world, would I were out of it ! If Chenage will 
 have me, he shall rue it. Faith ! I '11 make him wish 
 he had never seen me. My only amusement will be to 
 torture him. Ah, the wretched life ! I wish I wish 
 I wish that John would come ! John would not see 
 me wronged ! " 
 
 She had been rapidly undressing to these ejaculations. 
 The freedom given to her body seemed in some way to 
 enlarge her mind. John's name gave her a new hope. 
 She was now half scornful of her own submission. She 
 thought of twenty arguments she might have used against 
 her father's plan. Before the mirror she looked at her-
 
 THE BARON AND AN AST ASIA. l8l 
 
 self and pitied the fate of her youth and beauty ; but as 
 she passed her fingers through her long curls, the new 
 hope gradually took clearness and form in her mind. 
 
 In the hurry of their parting at Sandys John had cer 
 tainly said something about " coming back to see her in 
 a month." Yes, she remembered the word "month." 
 At the time the promise had nov appeared to her desir 
 able ; she had passed it by with a passing assent. Now 
 she rigidly inquired of memory for it. She endeavoured 
 to recall the tone in which it was made, the expression 
 of John's face, the particular sentences before and follow 
 ing it ; and her final conclusion was that John certainly 
 intended to visit her very soon. 
 
 She could understand that his curiosity would lead 
 him to do so. Filling his life with great and shameful 
 tragedies, John de Burg had nevertheless that small kind 
 of soul which is inquisitive about petty affairs. Without 
 reflecting on the peculiarity, Anastasia knew that it ex 
 isted. She knew all his small hatreds, his scornful tol 
 eration of Prideaux, his real admiration of Olivia, his 
 jealousy of Nathaniel ; she imagined the laughter and 
 delight they would have together over the trial and sen 
 tence of Prideaux and Asa ; and she came to the positive 
 belief that within three weeks, perhaps two, John would 
 certainly venture to meet her somewhere. Well, then, 
 delay was all she needed. 
 
 " I '11 go with John. Yes, I '11 go with John, if he were 
 a thousand times an outlaw, rather than with Chenage to 
 that gloomy prison of his. But it will need management." 
 
 By " management " she meant deception. She had 
 not that brutal courage which attains its ends by a physi 
 cal storming of whatever contradicts. She preferred to 
 cozen and smile and allure. Chenage was inclined to be 
 suspicious and jealous; she would accept him with an
 
 1 82 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 appearance of grateful pleasure. She would tell him she 
 loved him for his kindness to her father. She would fool 
 him to the top of his bent, but she would also put off 
 to the last possible moment the hateful ceremony which 
 would make him lord and master, and her the obedient 
 or rebellious slave of his wishes ; and, to the last mo 
 ment, she would hope and watch for John. 
 
 After a little silence she went further, though it was at 
 first with fear and uncertainty. " And if John should not 
 come in time, John will find out where I am. He will 
 come and see me, or he will send. I know the man he 
 will send, Pastro ; I can see his short, black, curling 
 hair, his flat cap and ear-rings, his red, thick bull's neck, 
 his dark skin, his sailorly roll. He '11 hang round till he 
 sees me ; and John won't be far off. And if I am un 
 happy and I know I shall be unhappy I shall tell 
 John ; or or or Chenage might have an invitation to 
 go with John" 
 
 Her face flushed, her eyes danced with delight. She 
 flung herself upon the bed to luxuriate in such a delect 
 able scheme of revenge. Every now and then she 
 laughed softly to her pillow. She might have to be 
 gracious and humble for a little while, but oh, the rap 
 ture, the delirious rapture of her revenge ! 
 
 "And I shall not blame myself," she murmured com 
 placently ; " 't will be his own fault. He has lent fathei 
 money purposely for this end. Neither will I blame 
 father. I warrant he thinks he gets me cheap at a few 
 hundred pounds. A dear wife I will be to him ! Oh, 
 Roger Chenage ! Roger Chenage ! You shall find out 
 how sharp are a woman's secret teeth." 
 
 In a couple of hours she had quite accepted the sit 
 uation ; nay, she even felt a wicked exultation in it. 
 Nor must we blame her beyond reason. The women of
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 183. 
 
 every age are in a measure what the age makes them. 
 Cromwell's age was an herioc one ; everything, good or 
 bad, took on large proportions. The good women had 
 opportunities for amazing faith, for great self-denial and 
 magnanimous deeds ; the evil women were driven by 
 the same circumstances into vast oppositions. They did, 
 and they suffered, gigantic wrongs ; and they had all the 
 facilities for outrageous revenges. Betrayed confidences 
 could send men to prison or to the scaffold, a little sinful 
 gold sell them into hopeless slavery, a planned jealousy 
 deliver them to be spitted on a rival's sword. Anastasia, 
 looking at her wrongs in the light of her own time, saw 
 how she might rid herself of an unwelcome husband ; 
 kidnapping, slavery, death, these were her weapons. 
 Had she lived A. D. 1890, she would have simply gone to 
 the divorce court. 
 
 After she had come to a firm and clear decision she 
 went to sleep. The thought of murder was in her heart, 
 but she called it revenge, and it did not trouble her. 
 Besides, she had also made an agreement with herself, 
 that if Chenage behaved properly to her father and to 
 herself she would do him no physical harm. In that 
 case, if she found life intolerable at Chenage Grange, 
 and she was sure it would be so, she would go with 
 John, and Chenage would only have to fume a little over 
 his runaway bride. 
 
 He was that night in Kendal waiting for Anastasia's 
 decision. De Burg had promised him it in the morning. 
 And he occupied the room in the Crown Inn which 
 Nathaniel had occupied two nights previously. Oh, the 
 secrets that the four walls of a room keep ! Prayer, and 
 anxious loving thoughts, and talks with conscience, and 
 calm virtuous sleep, that was the record Nathaniel Kel- 
 der left on them. Chenage was under the influence of a
 
 1 84 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 brutal and selfish passion. His mutterings were full of 
 hatred of De Burg. He grudged the money he had 
 loaned ; he was trying to invent some plan by which he 
 could evade the payment of the further sum promised. 
 When he thought especially of Anastasia it was with 
 mingled curses on her power over him and ejaculations 
 on her beauty. He made himself great promises of the 
 revenges he would take for all the heart-torment she 
 had given him and all the money she had cost him. 
 Was this record also written there ? Oh, changing guests 
 of inns and homes ! 
 
 " May not the ancient room you sit in dwell 
 
 In separate loving souls, for joy or pain ? 
 
 Nay, all its corners may be painted plain 
 Where heaven shows pictures of some life spent well, 
 
 Or may be stamped a memory, all in vain - 
 Upon the sight of lidless eyes in hell." 
 
 The morning was a dull, rainy one. It broke austerely. 
 The wind lashed the boughs of the trees and gave them 
 a doleful aspect, and the very sky seemed flattened under 
 the pouring rain which drowned the horizon. But Anas 
 tasia was not affected by atmospheric influence ; she had 
 a vague passing pity for the cows browsing in the wet 
 grass of the distant meadows, but she turned from the 
 window to the mirror with a mind perfectly settled on 
 her own affairs. Rain or shine, she knew the way she 
 was going, and at the moment when she put her bare 
 feet upon the polished oak of the floor she began to 
 take it. 
 
 She dressed a trifle more carelessly than usual. She 
 was not going to give herself any particular trouble about 
 Roger Chenage. Her sacrifice was granted, but why 
 deck it with pink bows ? Otherwise there was no differ 
 ence in her appearance. She met her father with a
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 185 
 
 smile, and De Burg was grateful for it. He looked hag 
 gard and weary, for he had really passed an anxious and 
 sleepless night. Truly, he wanted his own way, but he 
 wanted it without serious pain to Anastasia; so her 
 smile was better than sunshine to him. He kissed her 
 voluntarily, a favour so unusual that it made her cheeks 
 flame with pleasure. She felt at that moment as if it 
 would be a joy to use Chenage in any way necessary for 
 the welfare of De Burg. 
 
 De Burg read her like a printed page. He perceived 
 that in her present mood he might resign everything in 
 order to gain everything ; and, as he anticipated, she 
 refused to accept this surrender, 
 
 " 'T is not to be thought of," she answered. " I shall 
 manage Chenage to my own purposes very well, Father ; 
 and if he mistreat me, I warrant he will do so at his own 
 peril. My only affliction is that I must lose you." 
 
 " 'T will not be for long, Asia. I may promise you so 
 much." 
 
 " And when the king comes home you will be with 
 him ; and you will send for me to London, and I shall see 
 the new Spring Garden, and disport myself at the court 
 masques and balls." 
 
 " You shall, surely ! You have been kind and obe 
 dient to me, Asia. When Chenage comes this morning, 
 give him the earliest day for my sake." 
 
 "A month hence?" 
 
 " Do you dream? A week hence is too late." 
 
 " 'T is impossible ! And surely you have some ar 
 rangements to make ; money is but the first. What 
 conveyance have you to the coast?" 
 
 " My own horse will take me to Whitehaven bravely." 
 
 " It will not carry you across seas. v 
 
 " Le Tall has a friend, whose ship is now unloading
 
 1 86 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 at Whitehaven, from the Barbadoes. It waits for me, 
 and will go so far out of its course as to drop me upon 
 French soil. And if I forget you for an hour, Asia, 
 't will be against my will ; though for the present I must 
 content myself with the belief that Chenage has a dis 
 tracting love for you." 
 
 " The ways of love are many. Chenage will vow you 
 black and blue that his is one of them. It will pass 
 at that ! " And she shrugged her shoulders with a 
 scorn that words would vainly have tried to express. 
 
 " He hath a good name also. Le Tall said to me 
 but yesterday that no merry party would willingly want 
 him." 
 
 " I '11 warrant it so. Few men care to show their 
 private faces in public." 
 
 " And 't is a common report, among those who pro 
 fess to know, that Old Noll hath not many days to live. 
 Then we may hope " 
 
 " I will none of Hope ! She is an old gypsy, forever 
 prophesying lies. She told me I was to go to Paris with 
 you, and then fled away before Necessity, who sends 
 me to Chenage, without an ' ah ! ' or ' oh ! ' or ' how ! ' 
 about it." 
 
 " 'T is all contrary to my desire. Chenage will be 
 here anon; I will leave you to take care of your own 
 affairs." 
 
 " Have no fear. He shall take care of yours also. 
 'T is not my nature to put my father at the feet of any 
 other man." 
 
 He was really too troubled to answer ; but Anastasia 
 understood his set white face and drooping head ; and 
 when his misty eyes flashed one look at her, they 
 touched the girl deeper than Chenage might ever hope 
 to do. She even found a kind of pleasure in the thought
 
 THE BARON AND ANASTASIA. 1 87 
 
 that she might use Chenage to ransom her father's hon 
 our and fortune. And yet 't was but a poor pleasure, 
 leaving behind it a bitter sense of wrong to her own 
 life and hopes. 
 
 After De Burg left the room, it seemed inexpressibly 
 dreary ; and as she walked restlessly about it, a Hindu 
 idol, upon a shelf filled with Asiatic curiosities, attracted 
 her attention, such a melancholy, hideous, dropsied, 
 gloomy god, simian and obscene, with half-closed eyes 
 and sempiternal smile ! She stood musingly before it. 
 
 " 'T is said that mostly women pray to it. What 
 misery women do endure ! for where that horror is the 
 likeness of a god, conceive me what the men may be ! 
 Certainly Chenage is something better, or 't is to be 
 hoped so. And if Chenage is my fate, I will not cross 
 destiny, for 't is to cross my luck. But, oh, the bitterness 
 of it ! Chenage, whom I have mocked and despised ! 
 Chenage, whom I have vowed never to marry ! Che 
 nage, of all men, to open the door of my future home ! 
 'T is beyond belief! 'Tis beyond endurance ! " 
 
 But Anastasia was only experiencing one of those con 
 tradictions of fortune which in all ages have been a 
 lament. Can any man or woman say, " I will not entei 
 a certain dwelling"? The swift changes of life may 
 bring them to its threshold, may push them in, and 
 they not even dream of escaping. Therefore the wise 
 defile not any well, because they may yet have to drinfc 
 of its water.
 
 X. 
 
 A MEETING. 
 
 "O sad bride, feigning to be what thou art not! veiling with smiles thy 
 fears of wrong, thy dreams of quick vengeance." 
 
 " All strangest things the multitudinous years 
 Bring forth, and shadow from us all we know; 
 Falter alike great oath and steeled resolve, 
 And none shall say of aught, ' This may not be.' " 
 
 JENIFER WARING was a woman of sorrowful spirit, 
 one who never sunned herself on the mountain- 
 tops of her faith. Though her Bible told her that " the 
 earth is full of the goodness of the Lord," she pre 
 ferred to think of Jehovah as a niggardly dispenser of 
 happiness, delighting to feed his people with the bread 
 and water of affliction. So she looked with distrust on 
 the happy confidence which enabled Olivia to stay her 
 heart on God. These were days of great spiritual 
 warfare, and she herself was thankful if she might only 
 dip her parched corn in the vinegar. How, then, should 
 a child like Olivia have the banqueting-house and the 
 banner of Love over her? 
 
 For Olivia's soul was a garden, Jenifer's a lonely, com 
 plaining place ; and she wondered how Olivia, resting 
 on the Lord to do all things well, could not only quiet 
 her heart in that assurance, but also keep her tongue 
 from reproaching those who had done her wrong. Jeni 
 fer wished to discuss all the circumstances which had 
 brought Roger Prideaux into trouble, and her womanly
 
 A MEETING. 189 
 
 instincts told her that there had been something between 
 Anastasia and Olivia which the examination in Kendal 
 had not reached. She judged it concerned Nathaniel 
 Kelder ; and she enjoyed a love affair, if it did not run 
 straight and found plenty of crosses on its crooked road. 
 But about personal matters Olivia was exceedingly reti 
 cent ; and reticence between women is an attitude capa 
 ble of causing great heart-burning. 
 
 Olivia, then, did not satisfy her protector's hopes. 
 She had looked forward to weeping with her, to a 
 luxury of spiritual and earthly complaining which would 
 have been better than singing to Jenifer. But Olivia's 
 serenity and guarded speech gave her no such oppor 
 tunities. She also took some credit to herself for the 
 open confession of her opinions involved in her kind 
 ness, especially as she had decidedly crossed the wish 
 of her more prudent husband in order to make it. 
 Herein, doubtless, lay her compensation; for Justice 
 Waring was a masterful man at home. But this was an 
 occasion of self-assertion which could be grounded upon 
 conscience, and the strictest domestic martinets gener 
 ally find themselves unable to face a woman crossing 
 their orders " for conscience' sake." 
 
 And Jenifer recalled frequently, and with pleasure, 
 the face of her husband when he saw his coach standing 
 at the door of the Town Hall, and heard her say that 
 she thought it her " duty to take charge of the young 
 daughter of Roger Prideaux." He had not dared to 
 oppose her, lest he should be publicly resisted. Jenifer 
 smiled when she thought of that moment. 
 
 Besides, she would have the pleasure of telling George 
 Fox what she had done. For she gave to Fox that 
 reverent admiration which women give to men who are 
 lords of themselves and others, that pure feminine
 
 190 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 admiration, having in it no element of sin, because given 
 to attributes, and only affecting the individual as the 
 representative and interpreter of them. 
 
 It was on the morning of the fourth day after the 
 trial that Nathaniel came for Olivia, and about noon she 
 was ready to depart. Justice Waring 1 s house was on 
 the main street ; but the shopkeepers were mostly in 
 their parlours eating their dinners, and the Strickland- 
 gate was as quiet as if it were the noon of night instead 
 of day. Nathaniel was by the open coach, with his 
 handsome face lifted to the door of the house ; for on 
 the topmost step of the flight leading to it Mistress 
 Waring stood, holding Olivia's hand. They made a 
 picture worth taking into the memory, the large, 
 comely, richly dressed matron, and the slight, fair girl 
 with her composed manner and innocent face. Her 
 white sarcenet hood made a soft radiance round it, and 
 the sombre plainness of her dress received an air of 
 freshness and sweetness from the roses and mignonette 
 she carried in her hand. 
 
 There was a silk-mercer's shop adjoining the Warings' 
 house ; and as Mistress Waring stood holding Olivia's 
 hand, and Nathaniel stood smiling and watching them, 
 the shop door tinkled sharply, and Roger Chenage and 
 Anastasia de Burg came out together. Anastasia had 
 been choosing her wedding dress, and was in a temper 
 of scoffing mirth ; while Chenage, in a sulky admiration, 
 was trying to understand her. 
 
 Just at that moment the bells began a noon-day 
 chime, and Chenage made some reference to their we'd- 
 ding peal. She looked at him with contempt, and toss 
 ing her head saucily, answered, 
 
 " A wedding peal ! Nay, we will have a noise of 
 trumpets; or, better still, the butchers shall ring us
 
 A MEETING, IQI 
 
 a triple major with their knives and cleavers. Sure I 
 have heard that when the king brought home his queen, 
 the London butchers on Ludgate Hill made a pretty 
 enough music so. I swear we will have the butchers." 
 
 " Take a care, Mistress. You are going beyond my 
 understanding." 
 
 " 'T would be no hard thing to do that ; " and then 
 suddenly both her feet and her tongue received a mo 
 mentary check. She saw the little tableau at Justice 
 Waring's door, and by a glance directed the attention 
 of Chenage to it. The sight infuriated Anastasia, and 
 she believed it had been deliberately planned for her 
 mortification. Yet, with a bitter laugh, she advised 
 Chenage to study the devotion of the Puritan lover. 
 
 Chenage defended himself with a sullen justice. 
 "When will you look at me as that girl looks at Kel- 
 der?"he asked. "By my soul! a man could catch 
 love from her eyes." 
 
 He was swinging his feathered hat angrily, and try 
 ing to carry his finery with the air of one who knew 
 sword and buckler; but it was hard work with Ana- 
 stasia's cold eyes upon him and her sneering words in 
 his ears. 
 
 " Fortune is a jade ! " she cried ; " an ill jade, or she 
 had given me a Puritan lover. How I should adore 
 one ! How becoming is their dress ! How refined and 
 gentle their manners ! They do not dice, nor drink, 
 nor dance. Loving is their only vice, and I vow they 
 love to perfection ! That man touches the girl as if she 
 were the Virgin Mary. He speaks to her as if he 
 said, ' Your Majesty.' Ah me ! I would I had a Puritan 
 lover." 
 
 She looked in his face so directly and with such glint 
 ing eyes that he knew not whether she was in jest or in
 
 192 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 earnest ; in fact, she knew not herself which of the pas 
 sions rioting in her heart was chief over the rest. In 
 a few moments the coach overtook them, passed them, 
 and so went slowly out of sight. It was open to the 
 sunshine and the breeze, and Olivia was its sole occu 
 pant. She sat in it like a child, with the same air of 
 simplicity and unconsciousness. Nathaniel rode his own 
 horse, guiding it (as Anastasia noticed) so close to 
 Olivia's side that he could bend low enough to catch 
 her conversation. 
 
 Olivia looked not to the right or the left ; but she re 
 ceived in some momentary glance the knowledge that it 
 was Chenage and Anastasia she was passing. Eyes rain 
 ing evil influence were upon her ; but her will of goodness 
 was equal to Anastasia's will of wickedness, and she would 
 not turn her face to the handsome one regarding her with 
 such malignant authority. Nathaniel, on the contrary, 
 looked steadfastly at the couple, and the haughty, pas 
 sionate girl felt the quick pang of his penetrating, re 
 proachful glance. She threw her head a little backward, 
 and lifted her flowing skirt to exhibit her spangled shoes, 
 for she was wearing her most splendid clothes, having 
 determined during the interval of courtship to make 
 Chenage visit her mercer and her tailor to abundant ad 
 vantage. She glittered in silk and silver and gems ; she 
 moved to the nodding of plumes, and waving of lace, and 
 flaunting of ribbons ; and the fresh wind caught from her 
 fluttering trappings the waft of lavender and precious East 
 ern scents. A few years later Nathaniel wondered if 
 John Milton had been in Kendal that day, and he smiled 
 as he opened the "Samson Agonistes " and read that 
 question in it which so perfectly described the girl. 
 
 " But who is this ? What thing of sea or land ? 
 Female of sex it seems,
 
 A MEETING. 193 
 
 That so bedecked, ornate, and gay, 
 
 Comes this way, sailing 
 
 Like a stately ship 
 
 Of Tarsus, bound for the isles 
 
 Of Javan or Gadire, 
 
 With all her bravery on and tackle trim, 
 
 Sails filled, and streamers waving, 
 
 Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 
 
 An amber scent of odorous perfume 
 
 Her harbinger/' 
 
 Yet this picture, vivid as it was, took but a moment to 
 impress itself, and even shared that moment with its com 
 panion picture, an equally bedizened man, his hair in 
 long scented curls, his feathered beaver swinging in his 
 hand, and his large brown face turned with insolent and 
 sullen anger upon the young girl in the coach and the 
 young man riding at her side. 
 
 " I shall go mad with the insolence of that fellow," he 
 said ; for he was not oblivious of Nathaniel's glance, nor 
 yet of the power it had over Anastasia ; and as he uttered 
 the words he dashed his beaver passionately against his 
 right knee. 
 
 " Then you may go mad without my help. I am indif 
 ferent to the disagreeable creatures." 
 
 " I will pistol him before your face if I see your eyes 
 on him again." 
 
 " Are you so far gone in jealousy? Ha ! ha ! Is your 
 neck clothed with thunder? Do you commonly drink 
 brandy and gunpowder, sir? Let me tell you Nathaniel 
 Kelder hath brave blood in every vein, and it is not your 
 hand will ever let it." 
 
 " It seemeth to me that he ought to be in my place." 
 
 " As I am convinced that you love me, I will own that 
 he would be even more disagreeable. I have but a slim 
 chance of ruling you. I should be a slave under Nat 
 Kelder's will." 
 
 13
 
 194 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Nay, then, Anastasia, you. may rule me to your heart's 
 content, I am so far gone with you. Thank your stars, 
 my girl, that fortune has given you a husband so much 
 your slave." 
 
 But she was far from being thankful. She was sullen 
 and ill-natured, and indulged herself in such sarcastic 
 speeches as made her lover explode with laughter and 
 burn with indignation at the same moment. They called 
 this wooing, and bandied their veiled words backward and 
 forward with smiles and stolen kisses ; but in his heart 
 Chenage was promising himself a full indemnity after 
 marriage, and Anastasia's eyes saw coming toward her 
 the swift-winged ship which would bring her a perfect 
 satisfaction and a perfect freedom. So ready a creditor 
 is the future to the dissatisfied. It promises anything, 
 everything ; it willingly accepts mortgage after mortgage 
 upon its unrealized happiness, and then, with sudden 
 calamity or slow, agonizing delays, forecloses on life, and 
 turns the bankrupt heart out of home and out of hope. 
 
 At the same time Olivia and Nathaniel went slowly 
 through the scented lanes between Kendal and Sandys. 
 They were in no hurry. Nathaniel dismounted to gather 
 her some bluebells, and having done so he hung his bridle 
 over his arm and walked by the side of the coach. They 
 talked in that low voice which lovers naturally choose, and 
 yet their matter of conversation was nothing to such spe 
 cial purpose. But Love has all things, all words, all looks, 
 all motions for his own. He can vow affection without a 
 word, and give everything in the transfer of a glance. 
 
 To Nathaniel and Olivia it was a charmed journey. 
 The slow rumbling of the wheels in the wagon ruts, 
 the ring of the whetstone sharpening the haymakers' 
 scythes, the call of the crake in the meadows, the 
 never-ceasing murmur of running water, all these sim-
 
 A MEETING. 195 
 
 pie sounds made distinct impressions, and yet blended 
 with their own whispered speech as perfectly as if Nature 
 was composing a piece for six voices, and doing it with 
 that delightful perfection of imperfection which charms 
 ?,11 discords into sweetest harmony. 
 
 Who can blame them if they lingered on their way, 
 if they did not reach Sandys until the sun was westering 
 low on the horizon ? Never could hours with just the 
 same bliss come back to them ; for love must have the 
 flavour of its circumstances, and these continually change. 
 This afternoon there was the parting with Jenifer Waring, 
 and the expected meeting with Hannah Mettelane, and 
 the long unbroken companionship of their happy jour 
 ney, and, not without its influence, though unspoken 
 of, the meeting with Anastasia de Burg. Unconsciously, 
 even this had drawn them closer together. Anastasia 
 was a bitter element in herself, but the very act of elud 
 ing her special notice turned the bitterness into that 
 sense of elation which is the result of escape from any 
 thing evil. Perhaps, indeed, when the light of heaven 
 shows us clearly the pitfalls and dangers of the earth- 
 road which led us to the Holy City our sweetest songs 
 of gratitude will be, not for the troubles we have con 
 quered, but for those which we have escaped. 
 
 When they reached Sandys, Olivia was pleasantly sur 
 prised. She had expected the house to express by many 
 outward tokens of neglect the anxiety and los-s which 
 was in its owner's heart. But Hannah Mettelane was not 
 a woman who delighted in ceremonious and mournful 
 symbols of sorrow. Joy in the Lord, and doing her 
 duty in it, was the cheerful law of her life. In all troub 
 lous events she could find some comfort, though it was 
 only the negative admission that things might have been 
 worse. She had no children, and Olivia was dear to
 
 196 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 her. Indeed, the girl had spent much of her life 'in 
 the low, wide-spreading Mettelane farmhouse, under the 
 almost motherly care of Hannah Mettelane. 
 
 She was at the open door of Sandys to meet them, 
 her broad, beaming face one general smile of welcome ; 
 and it fully included Nathaniel, although she had never 
 seen him before ; but her woman's heart told her that 
 he was Olivia's lover, and a true love affair was to Han 
 nah Mettelane a true delight. 
 
 The house had its usual atmosphere of peace and 
 content and spotless cleanliness. They went into the 
 parlour. The basil pot in the window diffused its restor 
 ative aroma, and great nosegays of roses gave a delight 
 ful freshness and fragrance to the handsome old room. 
 A cold capon, a dish of curds and cream, some delicate 
 Christ Church tarts, and a bowl of ripe cherries were 
 spread upon the whitest of linen. Red Rhine wine 
 stood by Nathaniel's side, and Aunt Hannah brought 
 with her own hands a foaming pitcher of delicious new 
 milk. She understood also their desire to be everything 
 to each other, and she invented a number of house 
 duties in order to leave Olivia the pleasant task of 
 entertaining her lover. 
 
 Nathaniel had told himself that he would not remain 
 many minutes, but he could not resist the enchantment 
 of the hour and the love which glorified it. He remem 
 bered his lonely mother affectionately, but yet he lin 
 gered until the twilight lost every tinge of colour and lay 
 like a gray veil over the face of sleeping Nature. Then 
 he rose to say good-by, and at the same moment Han 
 nah Mettelane entered the room with a letter in her 
 hand. It was from her brother Roger, and the bearer 
 of it was waiting to carry back the answer. 
 
 " You see, both of you," she said, " that things are a
 
 A MEETING. 197 
 
 long way better than we thought for. Roger says he 
 has got a little room, out of the main room, for him 
 self and Asa, and maybe they are n't so bad off after all. 
 Prisons can't be homes, and we mustn't expect it of 
 them. Roger is well and having a good conscience, 
 and what is there better than that? There is only one 
 bit of strange news that I can see, and perhaps now it 
 is the best news of all : it 's about a young man called 
 John Whitehead ; he is got out of prison and bonds of 
 all kinds." 
 
 "Free?" 
 
 " Ay, my dear lad, free ! Set free by God Almighty's 
 own hand." 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 " Nay, then, we had better say ' living forever.' " 
 
 " Poor John ! " 
 
 " Not ' poor,' Olivia. No indeed ! Your father writes 
 that the young man was happy to enter death land, and 
 went away in a great state of love and rapture." 
 
 " Of what did he die ? " 
 
 " Of jail fever, and want of all earthly comforts. 
 Roger says his body was worn to ruin and ready to let 
 drop the soul when they reached Appleby." 
 
 " He was Mary Whitehead's last son. Her eldest 
 perished in Colchester jail, her second on Bristol common. 
 How I wish I could comfort her ! Poor, poor mother ! " 
 
 " Rich is thejnother of holy martyrs, Olivia ! It is a 
 great thing to have had three sons with such white con 
 sciences. I think she got a better portion for them than 
 the mother of Zebedee's children asked for her sons. 
 And Roger says John Whitehead preached ' the truth ' 
 to his fellow-prisoners until his voice failed him, and 
 he could only whisper, softer and softer, ' Jesus Christ ! 
 Jesus Christ ! Jesus Christ ! ' "
 
 198 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " He has found the way to rest, to rest forever," said 
 Nathaniel ; " and, oh, how glad he must have been 
 when to him the weary controversies of earth suddenly 
 became silent ! " 
 
 Then Hannah Mettelane, softly weeping, went out 
 of the room, and Olivia lifted her starlike eyes to Na 
 thaniel. Never had the sympathy between them been 
 so sweet and strong. Speechless with emotion, he led her 
 to the open casement. The night incense of the rose- 
 beds was wafted across her flower-like face ; the inef 
 fable joy of a pure and perfect love made her tremble 
 beneath his light touch. He whispered her name and 
 drew her close to his heart. 
 
 Still softer was her answer, " My soul ! My soul ! I 
 will love thee forever ! " 
 
 This confession, spontaneous as the perfume of the 
 roses or the song of the nightingale singing by his nest 
 in the sycamore-tree, filled Nathaniel with a rapture 
 beyond words. He stood silently gazing into Olivia's 
 eyes, seeing in the duskish gloom her face, white as a 
 lily, shining with the love behind it. Their souls had 
 met before ; now they spoke to each other, were as 
 truly one as " the sound in the echo or the thought in 
 the word." 
 
 What did they say in that wondrous interval which 
 was but moments yet seemed to stretch infinitely back 
 ward and forward? They said everything ! though the 
 only audible expression was the long sigh with which the 
 mysterious communing ended. 
 
 It blended with the stir of the rising wind in the tree- 
 tops and the twittering of some birds in the ivy above 
 the window. Then they were aware of quick footsteps, 
 of voices faintly familiar, of the near and actual invasion 
 of earth into their transient heaven. They looked to-
 
 A MEETING. 199 
 
 ward the door and saw Hannah Mettelane enter. She 
 had a lighted candle in her hand, and she was speak 
 ing with some one who was close behind her. It was 
 George Fox. 
 
 He came forward and took the hands of Nathaniel 
 and Olivia and clasped them together in his own hands. 
 :i I am come to put you asunder, children," he said ; 
 " but only for a little while. Olivia, thou must go to 
 London and plead with Cromwell himself for thy father's 
 life. There is no lawyer for him but thee. Judge and 
 jury are bought and sold. In this corner of Westmore 
 land De Burg is stronger than justice ; yea, even than 
 thy father's gold." 
 
 " George Fox " 
 
 " Nay, Nathaniel, in this matter I will hear no dissent 
 from thee. Verily, I have considered all, and I see that 
 there is no other way." 
 
 " At thy word I will go to London, friend George." 
 
 " And I will go with thee, friend Olivia. On the third 
 day, early in the morning, be ready." Then, turning to 
 Hannah Mettelane : " I can neither eat nor drink, dear 
 neighbour. I must cross the sands to Ulverstone to-night, 
 and thou knowest the tide will flow at its own time." 
 
 " How shall we go, George ? " 
 
 " Thou must take thy own coach, Olivia. Horses can 
 be changed at all the post-houses, and the hurry is not 
 so great as to cause thee weariness." 
 
 " Thou wilt surely go with me, George ? " 
 
 " Yea ; and also friend Jacob Willis and his wife, who 
 are under a constraint of the Spirit to visit the perse 
 cuted Friends in the Plymouth colony. Their ship 
 sails from London in two weeks; so then thou canst 
 help them so far on their journey, and have the while 
 the comfort of their presence."
 
 20O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Then, being pressed by the rising tide, he hurried away, 
 and Nathaniel and Olivia watched him fade into the gray 
 distance. His coming had been like the call of a bugle 
 or the clash of a bell. The fighting, wrestling world was 
 again pressing them hard, and Nathaniel felt it with a 
 special resentment. 
 
 "Though the good man rides hard," said Hannah 
 Mettelane, going to the window, " 't will be hurry all if 
 he get across the sands ere the tide catch him." 
 
 " George Fox knows the way that he takes. Here is 
 matter of more importance, Mistress Mettelane. It is 
 not fit that Olivia should go to London without me, and 
 in that case it is most fit she goes as my wife." 
 
 " I am of your mind, Captain Kelder ; and why 
 not?" 
 
 "There are two sufficient reasons 'why not,' Aunt 
 Hannah. How can I marry while my father is in prison? 
 'T would indeed be a great occasion for people to speak 
 ill of me. And also, I know not if I should be welcome 
 to Nathaniel's people. Indeed, I fear I should bring 
 contention among them." 
 
 " You are to marry me, and not my people, Olivia." 
 
 " Nay, but I will not marry thee without the good-will 
 of thy people. I will neither go to thy home, nor take 
 thee into my home, without their liking." 
 
 From this opinion Olivia could not be persuaded. 
 Although she made no complaint of Lady Kelder's neg 
 lect, she was keenly sensitive to it. She was aware that 
 Nathaniel had informed his parents of their intention to 
 marry, and she looked at least for some courteous social 
 recognition of the intention. At this hour Nathaniel also 
 felt it. He found it impossible to make excuses for his 
 mother ; and when he arrived at home he had thought 
 over his supposed wrong until his heart was hot within
 
 A MEETING. 2OI 
 
 him, and it gave him a certain satisfaction to say 
 bluntly, 
 
 " I asked Olivia Prideaux to marry me to-morrow, and 
 she refused. That is because you have not given her the 
 welcome due to my intended wife." 
 
 " You must be moon-struck ! Or love-struck ! Mid 
 summer madness ! Marry to-morrow ! What are you 
 dreaming about?" 
 
 " She goes to London on her father's business, and I 
 wish to go with her." 
 
 " I dare be bound you do. Well ? " 
 
 " Mother, you are cruel. I never knew you so before. 
 If you love me, go and see Olivia to-morrow and tell her 
 she is welcome in Kelderby." 
 
 " Shall I tell a lie to pleasure Mistress Prideaux ? As 
 to Kelderby, how do you know that it is mine, or yours, to 
 offer? The selfishness of youth passes my patience ! 
 While all Kelderby house and lands hangs in the 
 balance, while your father is fighting for his and your 
 rights in a world now strange and hard to him, while I 
 watch and pray, neither sleeping nor eating, weary to 
 fainting with the restless walk that alone relieves my 
 anxious heart, you are dawdling after that Quakeress, 
 who has made us all this sorrow ; and then, to crown your 
 injustice, I am cruel because I humble not myself to her. 
 Nathaniel, you are cruel ! And I never knew you so 
 before." 
 
 She began to weep bitterly, and Nathaniel was not able 
 to endure that spectacle. He soothed her as best he 
 could ; he mingled his tears with hers ; he found that his 
 brave intention to insist upoi. Olivia's rights had ended 
 in a reconciliation which left his mother decidedly the 
 gainer. But who can blame him ? Brutal is the son who 
 is not vanquished by his mother's tears !
 
 2O2 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 He went to his room utterly worn out with feeling, 
 and yet he could not sleep. The face, the voice, the 
 touch, the influence of Olivia, dominated him. He whis 
 pered her name continually. He felt all the bitterness 
 and the sweetness of a love debarred and crossed, and 
 yet potential above and beyond all reasonings. It was 
 unfortunate that he had spoken to his mother at that 
 time. She was miserable in the absence of the baron 
 and in the danger of Kelderby. Indeed, suspense fretted 
 every one ; for no word had yet come back from Baron 
 Kelder, nor was any just yet to be expected. 
 
 Meanwhile the baron was nearing the end of his jour 
 ney. He had changed his horse frequently, but never his 
 steady gallop, until he came to the long brick streets of 
 London. For as soon as Odinel Kelder accepted the 
 duty of rescuing his inheritance he forgot his years, and 
 felt not the infirmities belonging to them. In the calm 
 regularity of his late life he had accumulated a reserve of 
 strength which now answered all his demands upon it, 
 and he arrived at his journey's end not more weary than 
 a man in the prime of life might have been. The sun 
 was setting, and he went to an inn at Charing Cross and 
 rested there all night. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell was still at Hampton Court, and Kel- 
 der's intention was to rise early and try to obtain an 
 audience before the business of the day began ; but he 
 fell into a sleep so profound that nothing wakened him 
 until the morning was far advanced. Indeed, the busi 
 ness of the day was over when his name was given 
 to the Protector. So little ceremony was then in 
 vogue that the officer in waiting left the door open be 
 tween the rooms, and Kelder could see his old general 
 walking with a weary, sorrow-laden face in the long 
 gallery.
 
 A MEETING. 203 
 
 His name broke Oliver's revery in two. He stood 
 still and let it call back to his memory the man who bore 
 it. The recognition came with a smile, and he walked 
 toward the entrance and said, " Is it thou indeed ? 
 Come in then, for thou art right welcome." Kelder 
 loved the man, and these friendly, honest words made 
 his heart burn. And as they walked up and down the 
 long gallery, hung with pictures representing the triumphs 
 of Caesar, they began to talk of the triumphs of the Puri 
 tan host, and of the days when they had fought side by 
 side. 
 
 " Thy heart was then plain to me, Kelder ; but now 
 there are such jealousies and such a spirit of calumny 
 among us, that my condition as to flesh and blood is 
 very hard. Oh, I say so, I do truly." 
 
 " I love thee, and thou hast done great things for 
 England." 
 
 " Through God. He blessed me therein as it pleased 
 him ; for I raised round me such men as thou art, Kel 
 der, who had the fear of God, and made some conscience 
 of what they did." 
 
 " We were never beaten never ! " 
 
 " That is a matter of praise to God, and it hath this 
 instruction in it, to own men who are religious and 
 godly. Oh, I love men that keep their integrity, men 
 who have a single eye, and a whole body full of light." 
 And then Kelder's face answered the face at his side, 
 the strong scarred face, threatening fierceness and rigours 
 to the unfaithful, but tremulous with sensibility and full of 
 love and sadness to those whom he trusted. 
 
 After some further discourse they heard the sound of 
 music and singing, and Oliver, still talking, led Kelder 
 into the great hall, where there were two fine organs. 
 Mr. John Milton was playing on the larger, and a
 
 2O4 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 choir of boys sang to his music that fine canon, by 
 Ben Jonson, 
 
 " Look how the winds upon the waves grow tame, 
 Take up land sounds upon their purple wings, 
 
 And catching each from other bear the same 
 To every angle of their sacred springs. 
 
 So will we take his praise and hurl his name 
 About the globe in thousand airy rings." 
 
 Cromwell was passionately fond of noble music, and it 
 was but a few moments before the mounting, joyful strains 
 made him forget speech. He listened with pleased atten 
 tion until they died away in low wandering symphonies. 
 Then he turned suddenly to Kelder and asked what busi 
 ness in special had brought him to London so soon after 
 his son's visit. 
 
 "To undo the business about which my son came." 
 And beginning at Nathaniel's visit to De Burg, Kelder 
 told Oliver the whole story precisely as the events of it 
 had happened. 
 
 Cromwell's answer was delayed long enough to show a 
 trifle of hesitation. " I like not," he said, " to fasten and 
 to unloose, to say ' yea ' and ' nay ' as it were with the 
 same breath ; but if a mistake hath been made, then it is 
 the part of wisdom to unmake it with all the speed that 
 may be. And in this matter it is evident that De Burg is 
 without common gratitude and without principle. He 
 will go to Charles Stuart, will he? Yea, if he can. We 
 must look to that ; indeed we must." 
 
 The wistful, speculative look called into his eyes by 
 revealing music was all gone. He was mentally regard 
 ing the man, insensible to the kindness of kindred and 
 the clemency of his country, who would defraud the one 
 and betray the other. The implements of writing were 
 at hand, and in fifteen minutes he had penned a private
 
 A MEETING. 2O$ 
 
 order to Secretary Thurloe concerning Kelderby, and sent 
 a command to General Selden regarding De Burg. 
 
 Dinner waited while he completed this business, but as 
 soon as the letters had been intrusted to the officer in 
 waiting he turned pleasantly to the domestic rite, taking 
 Kelder's company as a matter beyond the necessity of a 
 formal request. The table was, as Nathaniel had de 
 scribed it, plainer and less delicately laid than the table 
 at Kelderby. Wealthy burghers all over England dined 
 with as much ceremony and plenty; and excepting the 
 Lady Elizabeth Claypole, none of the party were dressed 
 with any extravagance of material or fashion. Music in 
 an adjoining room filled the pauses in conversation ; and 
 doubtless there were times when Cromwell, both from 
 private and public causes, was glad of such excuse as it 
 made for his silence. 
 
 But not so with Odinel Kelder. They had too many 
 great and merciful events to recall to each other ; and the 
 Lady Elizabeth listened with a wife's interest and delight 
 to Kelder's unaffected praises of her lord. No one could 
 doubt his honesty ; and Cromwell, weary of double-deal 
 ers, looked with pleasure in the clear face of this true 
 friend. Even Bridget, his spiritually-minded daughter, 
 " a woman breathing after Christ, acquainted with temp 
 tations, humbled and not exalted by her father's great 
 ness," could not refrain acknowledging by a kind smile 
 the genuine affection of this single-hearted adherent. 
 
 Music and singing passed the time after dinner; a 
 madrigal, by Mr. Lock, being repeated several times to 
 pleasure Kelder, who was able ever afterward to recall 
 some of its most taking falls. Then there was a psalm 
 sung, which the Protector gave out from the small black 
 psalm-book he had carried through all his campaigns, 
 and after it the ladies retired to their own privacy. But
 
 206 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Cromwell and Kelder drew closer to each other. They 
 had a pipe of the Virginian weed, and then walked on the 
 terrace ; and as the stars grew larger and brighter they 
 spoke of those sacred personal aspects of religion which 
 are the secret strength of that " spiritual confidence " we 
 are commanded to " restrain not." 
 
 The following day Kelder received back his bond, 
 and with it the assurance of the Protector that Kel- 
 derby was freely in his own power again. He called 
 for a taper, and they burned the parchment silently 
 upon the hearth ; but when the blaze was dead, and the 
 bond was a shrivelled band of gray ashes, Cromwell 
 spoke in a low, warning voice, 
 
 " Take it not ill what I say I know you will not 
 or else you will be ruined yet. And truly 't is not I 
 that say it ; it is the counsel of the wisest man. ' He 
 that is surety for a stranger shall smart for it ; and he 
 that hateth suretiship is sure.' " 
 
 But though his affairs were thus comfortably settled, 
 Kelder did not immediately leave London. Cromwell 
 clung to him with a simple regard he found it hard to 
 resist ; and nearly every night for three weeks the two 
 men walked the terrace at Hampton Court, and talked 
 together of the things which both loved, " the wisdom 
 of God in a mystery," all those extreme thoughts 
 which men seldom care to reach, beyond which no man 
 can go. Perhaps neither had an intellect trained for 
 subtle disputing, nor did they even try to measure with 
 the foot-rule of their understanding the immutable wis 
 dom of God ; but in religious matters both had a child's 
 heart, and both were seeking to enter the kingdom of 
 heaven by the gate of spiritual wistfulness.
 
 XI. 
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 
 
 " Prosperity and adversity, life and death, poverty and riches, come 
 of the Lord. . . . Love, and the way of good works, are from him." 
 
 ..." the constant change and transmutation 
 Of action and of contemplation, 
 Downward, the Scripture brought from on high ; 
 Upward, exalted again to the sky : 
 Downward, the literal interpretation; 
 Upward, the vision and mystery." 
 
 T ADY KELDER had won a victory over her son, 
 * < but she had no sense of triumph. What if she 
 got her wish about Olivia, and lost it about Kelderby? 
 The God whom she served was a jealous God, balancing 
 his favours according to the service given. She could 
 not expect too much from him. To clear Kelderby of 
 all its obligations to De Burg, to clear Nathaniel of his 
 obligations to Olivia, was perhaps beyond her desert. 
 Of two evils, she must choose the lesser. After hours 
 of restless anxiety, she resolved to sacrifice her personal 
 feelings to the more permanent good. If only Kelderby 
 were saved, she would try yes, she would try to 
 accept Olivia. 
 
 The mysterious travail of sleep brought her only vi 
 sions of confusion and anxiety. When the morning 
 came, she resolved to call upon Olivia, and judge with 
 her own eyes and intelligence as to the capabilities of 
 the girl for the honour Nathaniel designed her. The
 
 2O8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 concession was a great one, how great Nathaniel could 
 not understand, because the way to Sandys, so hard for 
 his mother, was just the way he liked best of all to go. 
 
 " 'T is the greatest trial of my life, I believe," she said 
 to herself; and she honestly felt it to.be so. On the 
 contrary, Nathaniel was eager to accompany her; but 
 she refused his attendance with a sharpness that had 
 something of reproach in it. 
 
 " No, sir ! I will take my woman with me. I have 
 no mind to be audience to your veiled sweethearting. 
 Simon the shrimp- fisher was here yesterday about his 
 cottage. Give a little of your time to the necessities 
 of the people until your father returns. And to-day 
 there may be a letter from him ; 't is fit surely that 
 either you or I be here to receive it." 
 
 Do women dress for men? Never as they do for 
 their own sex. Lady Kelder took from their manifold 
 scented wrappings her very finest garments, an over 
 dress of dark violet relvet, with a quilted satin petticoat 
 of the colour of old ivory. A thick gold chain held her 
 pomander-case, the case itself being of fretted Moorish 
 work, studded with gems. She put it to her nostrils, 
 and with a wretched little laugh said to Jael, " Faith ! 
 I shall need the camphor, I know. My heart hath a 
 strange fainting-sickness already. And give me my 
 fan, Jael, the one of foreign feathers with the silver 
 handle, and my head-dress of ivory satin edged with 
 Flemish point." 
 
 She stood a moment before her mirror, looking stead 
 ily at the woman reflected there, a handsome, reso 
 lute woman, tenacious of her own opinions, and finding 
 out for them warranty of Holy Scripture or holy men. 
 When she turned away, Jael gave her a long mantle of 
 black Genoa velvet, and gloves of Spanish leather, richly
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 
 
 embroidered and perfumed with orange flowers. Na 
 thaniel was taken with a heartache when he saw her. 
 He understood that the visit, undertaken with so much 
 ceremony, intended little kindness ; yet he felt himself 
 the influence of such royal apparel, and conducted his 
 mother to her coach with a deferential affection which 
 would not be reasoned with. 
 
 That morning Olivia was strangely sad and fearful. 
 A journey to London was as great an event then as a 
 journey across oceans is now; and the very necessity > 
 for it implied a danger for her father that she had not 
 apprehended. She was employed in preparations for 
 it when Lady Kelder's step upon the stone passage 
 arrested her attention. Although it was a firm, slow 
 step, Olivia knew at once that it was the step of a 
 woman. She lifted her head and listened ; for Hannah 
 Mettelane had gone into Kendal to make some pur 
 chases, and she knew that the reception of any stranger 
 must devolve upon her. As the visitor approached, she 
 laid down her work and stood up to meet her. 
 
 At the same time Gideon threw wide the door, and 
 with some circumstance announced, " Lady Kelder." 
 The two women looked steadily at each other, Olivia's 
 face expectant, indeterminate, ready to reflect instantly 
 a smile or a pleasant light ; Lady Kelder's intent, cu 
 rious, critical, for as yet she had seen Olivia only in 
 a very hurried and cursory manner. Once they had 
 passed each other on Kendal streets ; and once, when 
 Lady Kelder called upon Jane D'Acre, Olivia was just 
 taking leave of her friend. She had therefore but a 
 slight remembrance of the girl ; now, however, she re 
 garded her with a distinct purpose of examination. 
 
 She saw a tall, slender, girlish figure in a white linen 
 dress, with a square collar of English lace encircling her
 
 2IO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 throat. She saw an oval face, delicately rounded ; eyes 
 soft, deep, heavenly, with large and solemn gaze ; a 
 sweet mouth, rosy and tender ; a steady, round chin ; 
 a colour like a wild rose ; and a great abundance of soft 
 brown hair. She felt also something of the unknown 
 and unseen in her very simplicity, in the look and air 
 of the girl, which checked every impulse toward what 
 was trifling or disrespectful. 
 
 But what the tongue or pen stumblingly or slowly 
 . expresses, the eyes see in a moment ; and Olivia's ap 
 pearance and manner were flashed upon Lady Kelder's 
 consciousness as she walked with stately grace from the 
 door to the centre of the room. There Olivia met her. 
 Lady Kelder courtesied slightly, expecting from Olivia 
 the deeper reverence due from youth to age. But 
 Olivia's self-respecting creed forbade her to bend her 
 knee to mortal man or woman. She simply extended 
 her hand and said, " Thou art very welcome." 
 
 There was then a momentary pause ; but Lady Kelder 
 was not a woman who hesitated, or who advanced to 
 the expression of her opinions by roundabout ways. 
 She took the seat offered, and said, 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux, I ask you seriously, and I pray 
 you resolve me truly, if 't is your purpose to make a 
 marriage with Captain Kelder?" 
 
 "I have promised to marry him, if God will." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! I observe that young people usually 
 make God's will fit their own desires." 
 
 " My conscience is a swift witness. I desire only 
 what God wills." 
 
 " My son wished to marry you to-day. In such a 
 hurry of self-pleasing wherein will you discover any 
 will higher than your own ? " 
 
 " I willed not to marry thy son to-day. 'T was out
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 211 
 
 of a sudden great fear and love that he spoke. If thou 
 knowest the circumstances, thou must understand his 
 desire." 
 
 " Indeed, Mistress, I do not need you to explain my 
 son to me. And I am agreeably pleased to find that 
 you have so much sense as to put the bridle on an offer 
 so beyond all reason. I must tell you that Kelderby 
 itself stands in the ' nay ' or ' yea ' of the Protector, or 
 else, in a case still worse, the honour of the De Burgs.. 
 It is inconceivable that Nathaniel should be wife-seeking 
 when his inheritance and his home and the honour of 
 his name stand in such jeopardy." 
 
 "Thou must know that my father's honour and my 
 father's estate stand in still more perilous conditions. 
 How then could I take the thought of marriage into 
 my heart at this time?" 
 
 " 'T is indeed a time laden with strange things, and 
 you must see how inconvenient marrying and giving in 
 marriage must be in the press and hurry of so many 
 great events." 
 
 " I think not of it. My heart is wholly set upon my 
 father's peril." 
 
 " Nathaniel says that you come not to Kelderby 
 because I ask you not." 
 
 " Nathaniel puts my love and his own below what fits 
 their right when he says so. Truly, I will not come to 
 Kelderby without thy welcome ; but I marry not Kel 
 derby, but Nathaniel Kelder." 
 
 " 'T is an unnecessary pride that you show. A mother 
 has some rights in the son she has borne." 
 
 " A true wife will never wrong them. I seek not 
 Nathaniel Kelder; he seeks me." 
 
 " Ah ! I thought surely that you loved Nathaniel." 
 
 "Thou must not conceive different, and put wrong
 
 212 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 words in my mouth. But I love him not better than 
 duty and honour and truth. If thou art afraid I am 
 going to wrong thy son in any respect, put all thy fears 
 away. I love not Nathaniel Kelder for myself, but 
 beyond myself. When thou understandest that, thou 
 wilt have a true welcome for me ; and perhaps, if God 
 will, I may then come to Kelderby." 
 
 "What will you " 
 * "I will not at all. God wills." 
 
 "You must know that the Kelders are a very old 
 family. 'T is indeed a trial when they mate not with 
 their- equals. I say nothing against Master Prideaux, 
 who is doubtless an excellent and respectable man." 
 
 " I count the probity and sagacity of my father so 
 much higher than the traditional glory of dead men 
 as living virtue is higher than dead virtue." 
 
 " Dead virtues are honourable, Mistress." 
 
 "Yea, for the dead." 
 
 " On this matter truly we may have divided opinions ; 
 but if it comes to giving occasion for evil-speaking, we 
 must be at one. There hath been talk and gossip about 
 you and Captain Kelder, and the tongues of others are 
 not in our control. Would it not be better to give the 
 public assurance in regard to your position? " 
 
 " If I suffered talk and gossip to move me I should 
 fear the tongue of man more than the eye of God." 
 
 " As you like, Mistress. For myself, I have ever found 
 my misfortunes more supportable than the comments of 
 my friends on them. To be sure, if you heed not the 
 words said of you " 
 
 " If people speak ill of me, I ask what kind of people 
 they admire, and then it often happens that I am quite 
 consoled. Thou wilt find it in general a comfortable 
 answer. Wilt thou eat and drink with me? "
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 213 
 
 " I am neither hungry nor thirsty, and my servants 
 and horses wait." 
 
 Olivia had risen as she spoke, and Lady Kelder in 
 voluntarily followed her example. Young and slight as 
 the girl looked, she carried herself with great dignity. 
 In Sandys the mistress of Sandys was the equal of the 
 mistress of Kelderby ; for in her home a woman has 
 immeasurable though intangible advantages. She stands 
 on her own ground, and thereby acquires a moral right 
 which prejudices any antagonist. 
 
 The interview was evidently over, and Lady Kelder 
 felt that she had gained nothing from it. The serenity 
 of Olivia had been proof against every little wind of pas 
 sion or ill-will. She had not lost an inch of ground. 
 She had made no concessions and no promises, and she 
 had told Lady Kelder nothing but what she already 
 knew. 
 
 " She has a thousand virtues. If she had a single vice 
 she would be more endurable," said Lady Kelder, as 
 soon as her coach drove away. " Take my fan, Jael, and 
 give me a breath of air. I never thought so well, and so 
 ill, of my sex." 
 
 " She hath a name beyond all praise." 
 
 " A dowdy, Jael ; a very dowdy, in a linen frock. It 
 passes my comprehension. Nathaniel hath seen some of 
 the finest women of the day." 
 
 " Well, my Lady, you looked like a queen, and I dare 
 say she was a bit flustered at the meeting with you." 
 
 " Flustered ! She had the composure of a goddess, 
 I mean of a saint." 
 
 " Was there any falling out with her, my Lady? " 
 
 " You might as well try to fall out with a prayer-book, 
 Jael. But I would she had spoken the temper I saw in 
 her eyes."
 
 214 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 They were riding swiftly through the estate of Sandys, 
 and Lady Kelder could not but notice the fine order in 
 which park and meadows and cornfields were kept. 
 
 " I believe the old goldsmith weeds them as carefully 
 as he dusted his shop and wares. I dare be bound he 
 enters every furrow in his ledger. But 't is a grand old 
 place, that is beyond denying. And 't is possible the 
 proud little maid may have the grace to take nurture. 
 They who live in Kelderby grow Kelder-like. What 
 hinders?" 
 
 "That is but a fluffment of talk, my Lady. Every 
 thing hinders. I never heard tell in my time of nurture 
 being stronger than nature. The cuckoo lays in the 
 sparrow's nest, and the bird hatched is cuckoo to its 
 last feather. The cuckoo lays in the thrush's nest, but 
 no up-bringing will make it sing the thrush's song ; it 
 will cry ' cuckoo ' to the long end of its life. The Quak 
 eress may come to the Kelders' nest, but she '11 never 
 change her nature with her name." 
 
 " By troth and faith ! you are right, Jael. For I came 
 out of Singleton Seat, and though I be married to Kel- 
 der's name, I shall be Joan Singleton till I be no more 
 on earth." 
 
 Then she was silent a while, and Jael watched her 
 fingering her pomander chain or the sheath of her fan, 
 and saw how her handsome face grew more and more 
 fretful and disappointed. For Lady Kelder was upright 
 enough with her own heart to be aware that her dislike 
 to Olivia sprang from the girl's trifling peculiarities jar 
 ring her own antagonistic peculiarities. She knew quite 
 well that these were a thousand times overbalanced by 
 Olivia's excellences, and that she ought to conquer her 
 unreasonable antipathy ; but she did not ; she could not. 
 
 She had two regrets in regard to her visit : first, that
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 21$ 
 
 she had worn her best clothing, for Olivia had not seemed 
 to notice it, certainly she had shown no symptom of 
 being in any way subjugated by its splendour ; second, 
 that she had been neither as kind nor as disagreeable as 
 she had intended. The sense of failure was with her. 
 She had not conquered Olivia ; neither had she irritated 
 her. 
 
 When she returned home Nathaniel's face made her 
 still more angry, it hoped and asked so much. The 
 longing curiosity on it was almost painful, and she in 
 stantly reflected that it was " that girl " he was anxious 
 and curious about. She spoke of the heat, of the dust, 
 of the weight of her dress, and went to her room to 
 change it without a word or a sign which could enable 
 Nathaniel to interpret her. Of course it was cruel, but 
 she felt as if at that hour she did well to be cruel. 
 
 Truly she pitied herself as she looked in her mirror 
 and thought of the unpleasant and unprofitable journey 
 she had taken. And Nathaniel's depressed and injured 
 air did not tend to make her at all sorry for him. It was 
 beyond reason that he should add this care to her 
 anxieties about her husband and her home. So when at 
 length he asked, " Did you see Olivia, Mother? " she was 
 rather glad to answer gloomily, 
 
 " Indeed I saw her." 
 
 " I am afraid dear mother, I hope you have not 
 quarrelled with her." 
 
 She was standing with her back to him, at the open 
 door of the china closet. She turned round in a passion. 
 " God's mercy on me ! " she cried. " May not the girl 
 just as likely have quarrelled with me ? I will not talk 
 with you about her. If you have no other subject, I will 
 pity myself so far as to be silent." 
 
 Then Nathaniel suddenly rose and took a letter from
 
 2l6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the chimney-piece. " I had forgotten," he said. " 'T is 
 from my father, as you may see. The bearer is in the 
 servants' hall." 
 
 " And you could think of any other thing or person ? 
 You are unworthy of your father, Nathaniel. But I won 
 der not ! I wonder not ! " 
 
 She was breaking the seal with trembling fingers as 
 she spoke, and after a few moments' consideration of its 
 contents she said, in a low, intense voice, " Kelderby is 
 saved ! Kelderby is saved ! " And in the moment of 
 her joy she forgot Olivia and fully forgave Nathaniel. 
 
 Privately, also, she was now quite reconciled to the 
 events of the morning visit. She was glad there had 
 been no nearer sympathy between Olivia and herself. If 
 she had ever been weak enough to contemplate accept 
 ing Olivia as a compromise with the Almighty's sense of 
 her deserts, she had now a double gratification in feel 
 ing that both her desires had been granted her. Kel 
 derby was saved, and she had been saved from any 
 promises regarding Olivia. Her home had been given 
 back to her without any mortifying concession on her 
 part. Was she made gentle and kindly by this favour? 
 No ! She was human enough to experience immediately 
 'one of those heart-hardenings which too often follow a 
 lifted anxiety or a desire granted. 
 
 The animus of this unhappy meeting affected Olivia in 
 a manner still more personal and profound. For though 
 she went with Lady Kelder to her coach, and preserved 
 a quiet civility of manner to the last moment of their in 
 terview, she was quivering with controlled emotion. 
 And in the solitude of her room the conflict was renewed. 
 Her enemy was still with her. The battle had only been 
 carried from the outward court to the inner sanctuary of 
 life.
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 2 1/ 
 
 She stood silent with her hands dropped and clasped 
 before her, and her eyes dilating, as though looking far, 
 far down into the depths of her soul. Lady Kelder had 
 wounded her in every sense. Her love had been ques 
 tioned, her pride humbled, she had been made to feel 
 that she was the troubler of Nathaniel's house. She had 
 been subjected to a criticism judicially cold ; forced sud 
 denly to meet a trial for which she was quite unprepared, 
 and which in her present circumstances appeared a gra 
 tuitous sting added to sorrow strange and unavoidable. 
 
 At first she could hardly help blaming Nathaniel. He 
 ought to have prevented Lady Kelder's visit ; or, if that 
 was impossible, he ought to have accompanied his 
 mother. It was cruel to leave her to face alone the im 
 perious discontent of the disappointed woman. A tu 
 mult of outraged feeling made spiritual anarchy in her 
 usually reasonable soul, and sudden flashes of resentment, 
 ending in spontaneous thoughts and plans of revenge, 
 made her cheeks burn and her mouth quiver. 
 
 The struggle was harder and longer because her rev 
 erent spirit did not suffer her to press into God's presence 
 while under such angry influences. There is a veil be 
 tween the holiest part of our nature and the Divinity, 
 even as in the visible temple there was a veil before 
 the Shekinah ; and Olivia did not dare, with an impa 
 tient heart, to pass beyond it. She stood silent until her 
 will had conquered, until pride, anger, hate, revenge, 
 and wounded self-love were lost in that wondrous depth 
 out of which grows the love of God ; till she heard the 
 tender question that besought her complaint, 
 
 " Thou, then ? Who art Thou ? " 
 
 With streaming eyes and swelling heart she bowed 
 herself, and answered, " Thou knowest me, and all my 
 sorrows."
 
 21 8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 And yet how sweet it was to tell them over, and to feel 
 hi the telling the infinite sympathy of the Divine heart ! 
 Then what serene amazement took the place of all fears 
 and of all conclusions ! Her trouble grew lighter than a 
 grasshopper, and she rose up from the internal revelation 
 joyfully resigned to all that God willed. 
 
 Lady Kelder had passed beyond her horizon, and she 
 looked outward with far-seeing gaze. A glory that never 
 was on sea or land transfigured her face ; a contagious 
 warmth, a thrill of positive faith, radiated from her lovely 
 form. For the most real of all splendours, the most 
 wonderful of all miracleS, is within us. And those who 
 doubt must consider that the human soul is the place 
 where two worlds meet, where the Infinite touches the 
 finite. 
 
 The reflex influence of this spiritual communion did 
 not desert Olivia for many days. It gave to her final in 
 terviews with her lover a delightful peace. She passed 
 over Lady Kelder's visit with a serene indifference that 
 made it hard for Nathaniel to .talk of the subject; and 
 yet he understood from Olivia's reticence that the meeting 
 had not been a pleasant one. 
 
 On the morning of her departure they stood together 
 in the embrasure of a large window in the parlour. The 
 lower casements were open to catch the dewy per 
 fumes of the garden, and Nathaniel clasped her left hand 
 between his own hands. She was very pale, and the 
 hurry of the preparations for the journey moved her so 
 much that he felt it slightly flutter in his grasp. 
 
 Jacob and Jane Willis both sat silent. With heads 
 thrown slightly backward and closed eyes they communed 
 with their own souls, seeking an assurance for their un 
 usual journey. Fox was walking in the garden. He had 
 his hat in his hand and the sunshine brightened his long
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 21$ 
 
 fair hair. His meditations were doubtless holy and happy, 
 for his face was calm and reverent, though his eyes were 
 toward the boxwood and the flowers. Hannah Mette- 
 lane was ordering the breakfast, and the servants were 
 packing the luggage of the travellers in the boot of the 
 coach. No one was regarding the lovers ; they were 
 practically alone. 
 
 " My father will doubtless be home in a day or two, 
 beloved ; then I shall make every haste to overtake 
 you." 
 
 " Thou must not put me before thy duty ; but if thou 
 canst wisely come " and she turned slightly and raised 
 her eyes to him. 
 
 He could not resist the something he saw in them. 
 " You hope, Olivia ! You are happy ! " And he lifted 
 her face in his hands and kissed it. 
 
 " I love thee, Nathaniel. Love always hopes. I will 
 keep thy memory to make my happiness with, dear one. 
 And thou must not doubt. I think true love is a prom 
 ise, and surely it is God's good pleasure to give what he 
 has promised." 
 
 " My soul, I love you ! I will love you forever." 
 
 " Thou knowest I love thee truly." 
 
 " We have chosen each other out of all the world." 
 
 " I have chosen thee." 
 
 " You will be my wife ? " 
 
 " I have told thee so." 
 
 "But when?" 
 
 " That I know not. The rose blooms at its own hour ; 
 wouldst thou tear its beauty out of the bud? Love will 
 grow to marriage, dear one ; but shall not love have the 
 glory of its perfect hour? " 
 
 " Can I love you more perfectly? " 
 
 " I think thou canst, or thou couldst wait with more
 
 22O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 patience. If them lovest me for eternity, there is all eter 
 nity to love me in. And this time is my father's time. 
 He asks me for the first and best of it. George Fox 
 thinks that I may save his life. Few daughters have 
 such honour given them. When my dear father is out of 
 all trouble " 
 
 "Then you will marry me? " 
 
 " When thy father and mother are willing for our hap 
 piness, then I will be thy wife. I will love thee first of 
 all, and best of all. I will honour thee with my whole 
 soul, I will love thee perfectly because I so honour 
 thee." 
 
 He saw her soul in her eyes ; it informed and vivified 
 her face, her white, slender throat, her small hands, until 
 the flesh and blood grew translucent and ethereal. 
 
 To pure- hearted young girls heaven gives such trans 
 parent fleshly veils ; they have no false or sinful thoughts 
 to hide. But as the heart grows hard and insincere the 
 soul puts on many veils, and the light within becomes 
 darkness. Then flesh and blood is simple clay. 
 
 When at length the hour of parting came he clasped 
 her to his heart with passionate, sorrowful love. At this 
 moment, with his tears upon her cheeks and his kisses on 
 her lips, she would not wrong his love and hers with any 
 pretences. She suffered him to see that she wept and 
 loved with him. She murmured sweet broken words of 
 affection; with the long, long gaze of lingering love she 
 watched his tall dark figure till the green vault of the 
 sycamores hid him from her view. 
 
 Great emotion makes many men silent, almost stern; 
 and Nathaniel quickly left Sandys, though Mistress Met- 
 telane urged him to rest there for a little while. For 
 Hannah was one of those women, sweet and homely as 
 honey, who would draw the sting of all men's sorrow into
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL, 221 
 
 their own breast ; and she pitied the young man, hiding 
 with such proud reticence his anxious love and grief. 
 
 However, he consoled himself with the reflection that 
 the baron would certainly be home in a day or two. His 
 affairs settled, there was nothing to delay him in London ; 
 and Nathaniel raised himself in his stirrups and instinc 
 tively searched the horizon for the tall thin figure he 
 expected to see. The letter already received had made 
 no mention of his return. " I have seen Cromwell and 
 Kelderby is quite released. I am in comfortable health." 
 That was all, and at the moment of their reception such 
 words had seemed full of all content ; but now Nathaniel 
 wished his father had added, " I take the road at once 
 for the north." 
 
 In the mean time Olivia pursued her painful journey 
 southward. The quaint old towns where they rested, or 
 baited or changed horses, gave her a momentary interest, 
 and Fox usually took her for a short walk while they were 
 necessarily delayed ; but the whole moving drama of 
 streets and lanes and of white roads, along which crept 
 the great pack-wagons with their smocked drivers and 
 belled horses, affected her much as the phantasmagoria 
 of a dream. Hour after hour she sat in silence, listening 
 vaguely to the measured talk of Fox and Willis, or with 
 shut eyes recalling the fair garden and house of Sandys, 
 and the happy and sorrowful scenes with which they 
 were blended. 
 
 When she arrived in London she was suffering much 
 from headache and exhaustion. The last day of the jour 
 ney had been an agonizing interval, which she had borne 
 with closed eyes and lips. The men scarcely understood 
 her sufferings, and Mistress Willis felt a slight scorn for 
 the girl so much more easily wearied than herself, a 
 woman of sixty years. She reflected, as women usually
 
 222 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 reflect, upon the superiority of their generation and the 
 decadence of the young people growing up at their 
 side. 
 
 They went to the Blue Boar Inn, in King Street ; and 
 for that night Olivia permitted every thought of love or 
 sorrow to escape her. Her slight form succumbed to 
 physical suffering, her heart ached, she was soul weary ; 
 when the landlady left her alone in the darkish room she 
 could have cried with joy for the simple relief of solitude. 
 Weary and suffering, she laid her head down upon her 
 pillow and He gave his beloved sleep, sleep so deep 
 and sweet and long that Fox became uneasy and asked 
 the landlady to visit her guest. 
 
 The dusty sunshine of the narrow, noisy street stole in 
 through the crevices of the shutters and lay in golden 
 bars across the great oaken bed. Its spotless linen 
 looked mystically white in the gloom of the veiled day, 
 and the sweet face at rest upon the pillow had the lovelier 
 pallor of life held in the solemn pause of sleep deeper 
 than the tide of dreams. The landlady walked softly to 
 the bedside and stood looking at the sleeping girl. How 
 exquisitely still was the breathing miracle ! The small, 
 bow-shaped mouth had the faintest smile ; the curtains of 
 the eyes dropped their dark fringes on cheeks softly 
 rounded, and white with the warm shadowy white of a 
 lily leaf. A band of sunshine turned the loosened hair 
 into a glory. The small hands were lightly clasped, and 
 lying on the snowy white of the linen, showed, like the 
 face and throat, the duskish pallor of flesh and blood. 
 All around the bed hung the scent of lavender, bringing 
 thoughts of warm, sunny gardens to wander about the 
 silent sleeping-place. 
 
 " God bless the girl ! " the woman whispered. " I was 
 once as young as she be ; " and she softly drew the cur-
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 22$ 
 
 tains so as to shade her from the light. But at the door 
 she turned and took into her memory the dark, draped 
 bedstead, with its soft, white interior, and the fair young 
 sleeper in its dim, slumberous peace. 
 
 The next day Olivia arose thoroughly refreshed, and 
 conscious of that spiritual exaltation which desires to 
 face a crisis, and is straitened till its duty is accomplished. 
 They went early in the day to Hampton Court, but 
 Cromwell had gone to Westminster, so they were de 
 layed for many hours. Indeed, Fox was advising Olivia 
 to return to the city until the morning, when the officer 
 brought him into the Protector's presence. He had not 
 sent in Olivia's name lest the interview should be denied ; 
 and when she entered with Fox, the Protector looked up 
 with considerable annoyance from the writing on which 
 he was engaged. 
 
 " George Fox, you are come here complaining again. 
 I know you are, and I will not suffer it." 
 
 " Verily, Oliver, thy conscience tells thee the truth. 
 Thou promised to bring in a bill putting faith before alf 
 forms. That would set free hundreds of good men, 
 thy old companions in arms, who now die daily for 
 Christ's sake." 
 
 Cromwell listened impatiently. " I will answer anon. 
 Who may this maid be? Thy daughter? " 
 
 " She is a daughter of sorrow, and so thy daughter and 
 my daughter and the daughter of all good men." Then 
 he looked at Olivia, and she stepped forward and said : 
 
 " My father is in the hands of those that hate him. I 
 pray thee to see that he get justice." 
 
 Cromwell looked at her with piercing eyes. Her inno 
 cent yet resolute face, lifted so fearlessly to him, touched 
 his heart. But he was in that mood of being "weary in 
 well-doing," into which the best men sometimes fall. He
 
 224 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 felt as if he had been kind and just and faithful all in 
 vain. At that hour he was tired of doing good only to 
 be unthankfully treated ; so he considered the suppliant 
 girl before he answered her. He saw that she was very 
 lovely, and that her dress, though plain, was of the rich 
 est material. But he understood from her speech that 
 she was a Quakeress, and like Joseph with his brethren, 
 he hardened his face and spoke roughly to her, though 
 the irrepressible quiver of her closed mouth made his own 
 mouth quiver in sympathy. 
 
 "Who is your father?" 
 
 " He is called Roger Prideaux." 
 
 " Roger Prideaux ! I have heard of him from Baron 
 Kelder. Yes, I will tell you the truth ; I have heard all 
 concerning him. He will sit upon two stools, will he ? 
 Then if he fall between them, he only is to blame. Let 
 the magistrates settle the business as seemeth right to 
 them." 
 
 " But thou must not bear the sword in vain. Thou 
 must see that they who judge, judge righteous judgment." 
 
 She looked confidently into his face ; but he shook 
 his head, and turned from her toward George Fox. 
 
 Fox answered the movement. "Thou must listen, 
 Oliver; for if thou listen not, thy conscience will give 
 thee but a hard time of it. I know that of thee." 
 
 At this moment the door opened and Odinel Kel* 
 der entered. He came without ceremony, having re 
 ceived such favour of Cromwell, and indeed being there 
 that afternoon on an understanding of their mutual 
 friendship. 
 
 Cromwell turned to him instantly. " Come you here, 
 Baron Kelder. Know you this man and this young 
 maiden? " 
 
 " Mr. Fox is known to me, and I give him my hand
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 22$ 
 
 gladly, knowing him also to be a good man. The young 
 maiden I know not." 
 
 " I am the daughter of Roger Prideaux ; and I have 
 come here to speak with the man whom God has set 
 Over England, that he may try with his judgment whether 
 my father be worthy of imprisonment or not." 
 
 "Truly, Roger Prideaux is a worthy man. .1 have 
 said so to my Lord General before this. Mercy in his 
 case, cannot err." 
 
 " I ask not for mercy ; my father hath done nothing 
 worthy of punishment. I ask," and she looked straight 
 into Cromwell's eyes, "I ask thee for justice. And 
 thou canst not judge justly if thou wilt not hear the 
 truth." 
 
 " You are a brave maid, you are indeed ; and you 
 shall tell me the truth, and I will see how it fits with 
 what my friend Kelder has said before." 
 
 She looked then into Kelder's face, and that moment 
 the baron forgave his son for loving her. Beginning at 
 that fatal day when John de Burg begged his life at her 
 hand, she told Cromwell the whole story. The words 
 came with the force of simple truth. No oath and no 
 witnesses could have certified them as she herself did, 
 her upright air, her clear eyes, her steady voice, her 
 modest confidence. 
 
 When she ceased speaking Cromwell turned to Baron 
 Kelder, and Kelder said instantly, " I believe that Mis 
 tress Prideaux has spoken no word that is not true." 
 And he looked so kindly at her that she had to drop 
 her eyes to hide the mist of grateful pleasure that 
 gathered there. But Cromwell answered, "This is a 
 judgment very difficult, besides being a business that 
 nearly concerneth all good men that are loyal. I will 
 take it into my own consideration." 
 
 IS
 
 226 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " That is the utmost of my desire. The Lord chose 
 thee to judge this nation ; truly, then, 7 may put my 
 confidence in thee." 
 
 " I think so, I do indeed ! I will see that none do 
 Roger Prideaux wrong, though I judge him not alto 
 gether innocent, for I fear that his heart hath hankered 
 after the man Charles Stuart. But for you, little maid, 
 the Lord hath given you wisdom and comeliness, and, 
 I doubt not, a knowledge of himself. Come, I will take 
 you to those who will refresh you, for you are weary, 
 indeed you are ; and I have daughters also, four of 
 them, whom God knows I love with a most tender 
 love." 
 
 All the sternness went out of his eyes, his face 
 beamed ; he stretched out his hand, and with a frank 
 modesty Olivia laid her hand in it. As she did so she 
 turned her pale, luminous face on Baron Kelder, saying : 
 
 " Thou didst bear a true witness. I am thy loving 
 debtor for it." 
 
 " Nay, then, you must pay my son Nathaniel in loving- 
 kindness." Cromwell had her left hand, she gave Kel 
 der her right, and he bowed his head and touched the 
 white palm with his lips, while Fox watched the little 
 tableau with a gaze that had a blessing in it. 
 
 In a few moments the Protector returned to his visi 
 tors, and his first words had an irritable tone in them. 
 " What is your concern now, George ? You are ever a 
 hard preacher." 
 
 The two greatest men of their day stood side by side, 
 searching each other with glances that went beyond all 
 visibles. " My concern, Oliver, is no less than the lives 
 of the two thousand Quakers in prison for conscience' 
 sake ; and if the question is too hard for thee, so much 
 more the pity of it ! If it be a cross "
 
 OLIVIA AMD CROMWELL. 22? 
 
 " Talk you of the cross, as if a Quaker had a special 
 bearing of it? I trow not. I also have crosses on the 
 one side and the other, I am sure. And, also, better 
 men than myself bearing burdens for England, with small 
 thanks. Listen to this, and let Quakers learn therefrom 
 the patience I wish they had, I am sure I do." 
 
 Then he took from his pocket a letter, and opened it 
 with some passion. " Here is a man that knew his call 
 ing from the first to this day. What man has discharged 
 his duty better than Robert Blake? Has he not driven 
 away the Dutch, and made Popish kings do right to 
 Protestants, and the Pope himself pay twenty thousand 
 pistoles good penance money, and taught justice to the 
 deys of Tunis and Tripoli ? a hard lesson truly ; and 
 yet in the midst of all these triumphs he writes thus to 
 me : he writes with tears, he does indeed, out of a mind 
 troubled and a body sick as ever was, yet withal as a 
 man fearing God very bravely. I tell you the Quakers 
 are the Little- Faiths of their generation. Tell them that, 
 George, and also tell them what Robert Blake says in his 
 weakness and triumph ; " and he stood still and struck 
 the paper with his right hand, before he read the words 
 aloud : 
 
 " ' My only comfort is that we have God to lean upon, 
 although we walk in darkness and see no light, consoling 
 myself in the mean time in the Lord, and in the firm pur 
 pose of my heart with all faithfulness and sincerity to dis 
 charge the trust reposed in me.' 
 
 " I tell thee, George Fox, I myself have a service 
 fullest of trials ever poor creature was set upon. The 
 cross ! The cross ! Surely, if we turn ourselves upward 
 or downward, without or within us, everywhere the cross 
 is always waiting."
 
 228 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "Thy words do not meet the witness of my con 
 science." 
 
 " George Fox, Quaker consciences are too trouble 
 some. I protest they are. Under this pretence they 
 will not fight, nor will they pay tithes, nor will they 
 swear. So many scruples ! Such bad principles ! Such 
 provokingly good practice ! I know not no, nor doth 
 any other know what is best to give them. I would 
 they could at least suffer in silence. I say, suffer in 
 silence." 
 
 " Testimonies are required of them. Thou knowest 
 well that there is not one instance in which even the 
 weakest woman has denied or concealed her faith for 
 fear of man's scorn, or the torture of the flesh. Bear in 
 thy mind, also, that many of these sufferers are thy old 
 comrades, fierce, strong, brave men, such as thou didst 
 make them ; yet when did any of them revenge himself ? 
 Verily, not one." 
 
 " If they would speak what any man might know ! But 
 this doctrine is full of hidden things, of mysticism." 
 
 " Out of the steel ranks of thy own Ironsides have 
 come the mystics of England. These men who have 
 laid down their swords for Christ's sake once followed 
 thee through many a red lane of battle. And though 
 God permitteth thee to be merciful, doubtless persecu 
 tion is of his will. For 't is a deep plough, Oliver ; it goes 
 to the bottom of a man's nature. It goes far below all 
 dogma. It goes below even the senses and the appe 
 tites. It summons the soul to do battle against the arm 
 of flesh. Verily, I have seen the black heart of the sen 
 sualist burned clean and white in this fire." 
 
 " Then, George, if it be such a fire of God's kindling, 
 I will not put it out ; I will not, indeed." 
 
 They had been walking as they talked together, and
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 229 
 
 had passed out of the smaller room into the great hall. 
 Some one was at one of the organs, and through all their 
 conversation a soft fugue had kept up a mysterious and 
 melodious dialogue. Suddenly there was an intrusion of 
 metallic sounds, the clash of cymbals and tinkle of tri 
 angles, and accompanying these the roll of a drum. 
 Cromwell became silent and stood still, listening. In 
 some occult way the half-barbaric sounds carried each 
 mind far off to lands near sunrising, and while the spell 
 lasted a clear voice in musical recitative filled the hall : 
 
 " Belshazzar the king gave a great feast to a thousand 
 of his lords." 
 
 With a white, stern face Cromwell heard, and then led 
 the way back to the smaller room. He was strangely 
 troubled. For a few minutes he did not speak, and 
 neither Fox nor Kelder felt any impulse to break the 
 strained silence. The strong voice rising and falling to 
 the ebb and flow of the tingling, rolling waves of sound 
 was still faintly audible. Kelder stood as if listening to 
 its echoes. Fox was listening also, but not to any echo 
 of mortal sound. Cromwell broke the pause in a voice 
 that had a singular unreality about it. 
 
 " 'T is beyond our knowing," he said, "where dreams 
 come from ; yet 't is beyond my doubting that I dreamed 
 last night of the king Belshazzar and the hand that wrote 
 his death-warrant. Verily, it is the unseen that terrifies 
 us, Kelder. It was not the hand, but the hand being 
 without the body, that froze the king and nobles with 
 unearthly terror. Come, let us go and eat, for I am 
 weary with many thoughts and cares." 
 
 They passed without further words into a more private 
 part of the palace, and entering a room saw Olivia sitting 
 between Bridget Ireton and Mary Fauconberg, the Pro 
 tector's daughters. The Lady Elizabeth Cromwell stood
 
 23O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 at the spread table, but her eyes were fixed upon Olivia, 
 whose face had an expression of holy enthusiasm upon 
 it. There was evidently an interruption ; but no allusion 
 was made to the circumstance until the whole party sat 
 in the summer twilight. 
 
 Then the Lady Cromwell said to her husband, " My 
 dear, your coming in prevented our full knowledge of 
 the finest words ever I did hear ; and I think Mistress 
 Prideaux will do us all great service if she make us 
 audience to them." 
 
 Every one looked at Olivia, and with a slightly height 
 ened colour she said, " They were the last words of James 
 Naylor, who truly died for the truth, though men per 
 ceived it not for the veil of mortal frailty. Yet in the 
 end, God suffered him the glory and peace of his 
 presence." 
 
 " Naylor ! The man was adjudged by the best in the 
 land to be a blasphemer against God," answered Crom 
 well ; but his speech was slow and heavy. 
 
 " The best in the land ! " cried Fox. " Were they 
 indeed the appointed keepers of God's honour? Thou 
 knowest better, Oliver. T was a matter of conscience, 
 and belonged to God's tribunal." 
 
 " His claim was beyond humanity, George." 
 
 " His punishment was beyond humanity. Foolish 
 women, led away by the marvellous beauty of his comely 
 countenance and by the music of his eloquent tongue, 
 gave him honour he never claimed. Doubtless he ran 
 out foolishly into imaginations, but. he said not that 
 he was Christ ; only, that Christ dwelt within him. 
 Such a word was too great to be carnally judged." 
 And Fox looked upward, as if appealing to the God 
 of justice. 
 
 "God may pardon such judges, but I would surely
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 231 
 
 mete them their own measure," said Baron Kelder, 
 " the red-hot iron through the tongue and on the brow, 
 and the six hundred and twenty lashes which tore the 
 body till the flesh would scarce hold the vital organs. 
 'T was an infamy of cruelty fathered upon the God of 
 mercy and the Lamb who taketh away the sins of the 
 world. And there was none to pity him." 
 
 " Odinel Kelder, I was in close prison myself at the 
 time. Had I been a free man, I would have besought 
 our kind Oliver for the mercy that is truly in his heart. 
 I would have pleaded for James Naylor with both God 
 and man." 
 
 " He went too far, George, he did indeed ; and he 
 deserved some punishment, he did, I say so. Yet 
 truly I interfered, even to the checking of Parliament 
 with stiff words, about James Naylor." 
 
 " Well, then, he is now with God." 
 
 " I knew not that he was dead." 
 
 " Yea, gone away from all who loved and all who 
 hated him and did him wrong. His end was in great 
 peace, and in the passing over he breathed forth his 
 soul in music, slowly, with his mutilated tongue, speak 
 ing the great words in his adoring soul. Olivia, let us 
 hear the last thoughts of this blasphemer, whom the 
 Parliament of England thought it did well to torture." 
 
 Then Olivia stood up, and resting one hand on Fox's 
 shoulder, she repeated the hymn to which James Naylor 
 dismissed his soul. 
 
 " There is a spirit which I feel that delights to do no evil, nor to 
 revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things in hope to enjoy its 
 own in the end. 
 
 "It sees to the end of all temptations. 
 
 " As it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thoughts to any 
 other. 
 
 " If it be betrayed, it bears it ; for its ground and spring is the mercy 
 and forgiveness of God.
 
 232 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Its crown is meekness. 
 " Its life is everlasting love unfeigned. 
 
 " It takes its kingdom with entreaty, and not with contention, and 
 keeps it by lowliness of mind. 
 
 " In God alone it can rejoice, though none else regard it or can own its 
 life. 
 
 ' It is conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it. 
 ' Nor doth it murmur at grief and opposition. 
 
 ' It never rejoiceth but through suffering, for with the world's joy it is 
 murthered. 
 
 'I found it alone, being forsaken. 
 
 ' I have fellowship therein with them who lived in dens and desolate 
 places of the earth. 
 
 " Who through Death obtained the Resurrection and Eternal Holy 
 Life." 
 
 To these majestic words Olivia's sympathetic voice 
 rose and fell in musical cadence. Her eyes sought 
 heaven, and her face was like the glowing page of some 
 holy book. Kelder kept back tears with difficulty ; 
 Oliver's sorrow-laden eyes were cast down with the 
 trouble in them ; Fox's face and attitude were that of tri 
 umphant rejoicing. But no one made any comments. In 
 deed, the first word spoken was irrelevant to the matter. 
 
 " What name did George Fox call you by, little 
 maid?" 
 
 " I am named Olivia." 
 
 " For this life we have the same name, Olivia." 
 He said the word slowly, with a lingering, gentle em 
 phasis. " My daughter, know you the secret, sacred 
 name, the new name of His adoption ? " They looked 
 at each other steadily, as if seeing with that sight which 
 cleaveth flesh and blood and discerns spiritually. 
 
 Then Cromwell dropped her hand, and walked on to 
 the terrace with Odinel Kelder; and the women bade 
 Olivia and Fox farewell, with all the pleasant confusion 
 and iterated words that are the womanly conception 
 of the rite.
 
 OLIVIA AND CROMWELL. 233 
 
 Olivia was exceedingly weary, but so upheld by the 
 certainty of Cromwell's interference in her father's case 
 that she did not desire to rest until she had written to 
 Hannah Mettelane, in whose letter she put these few 
 lines to Nathaniel : 
 
 MY DEAREST HEART, This is to tell thee that all 
 has gone well, and that we leave London for Sandys in two 
 days. Mistress Caroline Peel and her daughter Sybil re 
 turn in our company to the north. Nathaniel, know truly 
 that all the space between us is full of loving thoughts for 
 thee. I say thy name often, and whenever it passes my lips 
 I kiss it on them for thee. To-day I saw thy father with 
 Cromwell, and the meeting was pleasant ; but I surely think 
 that I shall see thee ere thou see him. For Cromwell stays 
 him in London for love, but love so much stronger hastens 
 me back to Sandys and to thee. So then, am I not, as I 
 have truly promised to be, ever thine 
 
 OLIVIA.
 
 XII. 
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 
 
 " Good smiters when help is needed, though the feeble bend to the blow ; 
 Men who when Evil bares before them his hindmost teeth, fly gaily to 
 meet him, in companies or alone." 
 
 " No wailer before ill-luck, one mindful in all he did 
 To think how his work to-day would live in to-morrow's talt." 
 
 " Marriage a slavery beyond enduring, 
 But that 't was of her own procuring." 
 
 " Women are governed by a stubborn fate: 
 No merit their aversion can remove, 
 No ill requital can efface their love." 
 
 A FTER the receipt of Olivia's letter, Nathaniel was 
 -*~^ at Sandys every day. Lady Kelder showed her 
 disapproval in many familiar ways; but, as she com 
 plained to Jael, " he bows to me, and then takes the 
 road. If it had been Mary Bellingham, or Alice Single 
 ton, or Ruby Halliday, I could have made shift to 
 endure it." 
 
 " Nay, my Lady. You would have thought Mistress 
 Bellingham gave my young master but half a heart, 
 the other half being with Charles Stuart ; and Mis 
 tress Singleton is full cousin, and not to be thought 
 of; and Mistress Halliday hath the dream of the Fifth 
 Monarchy Men, and would be like enough to keep us 
 all in hot water with the Commonwealth." 
 
 " Then a God's mercy ! why should he marry any 
 one? And here also is the baron dallying his time
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 
 
 away at Oliver's court, a fine court truly ! and I 
 a poor lonely lady as ever bore the name." 
 
 "The Lord General delays the Baron from kind 
 memories. Few that push themselves into high places 
 are so humble-minded, my Lady." 
 
 " High places ! Yes, he hath a high place ; and 
 I wish him as much joy in it as he has right to it. 
 Those Cromwells patron to Kelder ! It passes my 
 understanding." 
 
 " To be sure 't is so ; but in worst extremes we may 
 remember ourselves, that blow wind ever so fast, it will 
 have to lower itself ere long. To-morrow is untouched 
 my Lady." 
 
 " It is not untouched, Jael. To-day prophesies for 
 to-morrow. To-day we love and we plan, and to 
 morrow we have the outcome. Yes, indeed ; and the 
 thing intended brings with it many a thing not intended. 
 I have had sorrows, Jael, in the past ; and I know how 
 past sorrows breed present ones." 
 
 " My Lady, I would n't carry next year, and the year 
 after, on your heart. Wherever to-day's comforts come 
 from, to-morrow's will come also. There is always the 
 ' wherewith ' for the want. And many a God's- penny 
 you have for the days to come ; so I would n't take on 
 over miscomforts clear and sheer gone forever. All of 
 us stand in hand to look forward, and not backward. 
 'T was yesterday only, when young master sat making 
 the flies for his trout- fishing, I heard him singing some 
 words that set me thinking so." 
 
 " Your young master hath the song ever on his tongue 
 now ; that is because he is thinking of somebody." 
 
 " I should n't wonder, my Lady. I never knew any 
 one sing that thought about themselves. Dismal work 
 that, and nothing to sing about. My young master hath
 
 236 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 a fine voice, and I warrant he made a sweet music to 
 the words as ever I heard." 
 
 "Love words, doubtless, Jael?" 
 
 " Not they, but wise words, as you shall hear, my 
 Lady, 
 
 " ' Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan, 
 Sorrow calls no time that 's gone: 
 Violets plucked, the sweetest rain 
 Makes not fresh nor grow again.' " 
 
 " And anon he tuned up gayly, and sang of, 
 
 " ' Spring, the sweet spring, 
 The year's pleasant king, 
 And the lark's silver 
 Leer-a-leer ! Leer-a-leer ! ' 
 
 " 'T was a good sight to me, and I stood idling a ten min 
 utes watching and listening to him." 
 
 " Ah, Jael, my son hath a sweet temper and a noble 
 heart." 
 
 "And a noble presence, my Lady. As he sat there, 
 singing in the sunshine, he looked wondrous like you." 
 
 " He hath truly a look of me, and it does not hurt him. 
 He is away to Sandys again, Jael." 
 
 " I fear, then, he will get a wetting ere he get back. 
 Listen to the quails in the juicy corn, crying, ' Wet my 
 feet ! ' If they 'd satin slippers on, they could n't make 
 more fuss about a drop of rain. Come, my Lady, be 
 well at ease. The baron will be here anon ; and for the 
 other matter, as you cannot manage it, you may just as 
 well leave it." 
 
 She had been dressing her lady's hair as she talked, 
 and with these final words she handed her a little silver- 
 framed mirror to inspect her arrangement. 
 
 " I think it will do, Jael. Bring me my second-best 
 house-gown ; surely the baron will arrive to-night." And
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 237 
 
 in this hope she dressed herself, letting her jealous, angry 
 thoughts of Nathaniel drift away on its happier tide. 
 
 It was on this afternoon the fifth after the receipt 
 of Olivia's letter that Nathaniel saw her waiting for 
 him. The sky had become cloudy, and the quail's fretful 
 fear was on the point of being realized ; but Nathaniel 
 thought the slight, white-robed figure, standing with un 
 covered head in the gray light, fairer for the sombre 
 atmosphere surrounding it. 
 
 They met without words, for their eyes had a quicker 
 speech. But oh, how full were the hours that followed ! 
 What confidences ! What silences ! Nathaniel learned 
 over again every changing light and shadow on her sweet 
 face. And his love- fraught gaze upon her was like sun 
 shine on flowers. It brought the rose into her cheeks, 
 the light into her eyes. It suffused her smiles, her low 
 words, her shy looks with such responsive love that the 
 afternoon went like a moment, and it was sunset, dark 
 and rainy, before they had well begun their story. 
 
 On that same afternoon the baron said his farewell to 
 Cromwell. He was then at Whitehall, and thither Kelder 
 went, with a melancholy sense that it was the last earthly 
 interview with his old comrade. In London the day was 
 fine and clear, but Cromwell was in one of the darkest 
 of those dark moods which clouded the latter part of his 
 life. The baron found him wandering through the empty 
 rooms of Whitehall, musing upon the discord and dis 
 union in the ranks of his party, and he said bitterly to 
 Kelder, "All is but vanity, vanity and vexation of 
 spirit." 
 
 " His loving- kindness faileth not." 
 
 " I am in the shadows, Odinel, soul-shadows, if I may 
 say so ; they fall where they please, without regard to the
 
 238 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 sun. Many things press sore on me. I live as it were 
 in the fire." And he began to complain sadly of the re 
 ligious chaos of the time, the Solemn League and Cove 
 nant Men, the Fifth Monarchy Men, the Presbyterians, 
 the prelates, and the Independents, all asking but one 
 question, Who shall get the living? "Truly, Odinel, the 
 burden is heavy on me." 
 
 " Perhaps, then, Quakers are not so foolish as we deem 
 them. Sure 't is the part of peace and wisdom to retreat 
 from all these confusions to the Light Within. Perhaps, 
 also, these men may weary of their contentions, and at even 
 tide you may have the peace you have truly wrought for." 
 
 " ' T is not to be hoped for ; ' t is not indeed. Many 
 dogs have never killed their own mutton, but those who 
 have begun to do so will not cease the bad charge of 
 themselves. So ' t is with men ; many have meddled not 
 with plots and politics, but those who have but once done 
 so, ' t will be extraordinary indeed if they cease their 
 troubling." 
 
 Thus conversing they left the palace and walked into 
 that royal avenue of elms which then adorned St. James's 
 Park ; and after a while they came to " that pretty gar 
 den house " which was then the abode of Milton, and in 
 later days of Hazlitt and Jeremy Bentham. There were 
 five persons present, and among them Sir Roger L'Es- 
 trange, a bitter royalist but a great lover of music. He 
 was playing the viol with Mr. Milton, and all were singing 
 Shirley's grand lyric, 
 
 " The garlands wither on your brow, 
 
 Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; 
 Upon death's purple altar now, 
 See where the victor-victim bleeds : 
 All heads must come 
 To the cold tomb ; 
 Only the actions of the just 
 Smell sweet and blossom in the dust."
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 239 
 
 Cromwell sat down, and at the last two lines his face 
 kindled, and he sang them with a solemn enthusiasm. 
 Then Mr. Milton went to the organ and there was sung 
 a madrigal, and a canon of Lock's, and at the last the 
 " Orpheus Hymn." And strange it was to see how even 
 Sir Roger forgot his enmity in the fine harmonious sounds, 
 and how men were at one in a musical part who were at 
 sixes and sevens when it came to theology and politics. 
 
 The Protector and Kelder left before the impromptu 
 concert was ended, and at the little gate on the West 
 minster side they bade each other farewell. Cromwell had 
 become gloomy and silent as soon as they lost the last 
 echo of the music. He said his farewell like one who 
 was tired, and who felt the sudden return of some swift- 
 gathering sorrow which he might forget for a moment, 
 but never escape. Yet in spite of his gloom the man's 
 parting smile was an actual phenomenon. It came from 
 some sunny depth in his nature, and remained forever 
 in the heart of the man who caught it; a wonderful 
 smile, though he said with it, 
 
 " If it be a last farewell, Kelder, I say it truly without 
 grieving. Whenever He shall be pleased to call me I am 
 prepared to dislodge. I am everywhere free." 
 
 And as the clashing gate parted them Kelder whis 
 pered, " I have seen the last of him. Oh, my old cap 
 tain ! Shall we meet again among the hosts" of heaven ? 
 Truly, Michael the chief will welcome you for a brave 
 comrade." 
 
 He hardly understood the passion of grief and admira 
 tion which melted his heart within him ; but he felt how 
 dear those are who have been our associates in any good 
 or great work, and how specially dear if that memory is 
 set in those noon-days of life when we were happy of heart 
 and strong and willing in the day of our power.
 
 240 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 He went thoughtfully through the city, noticing very 
 little, and so by easy stages to Kelderby. Between Lan 
 cashire and Westmoreland there is a bleak country, so 
 wild and desolate that even at this day the manufact 
 uring villages perched on the hilltops affront its natural 
 loneliness. Few people in Cromwell's time crossed it, 
 but Kelder's nearest way home lay through the western 
 portion. As his horse painfully picked his steps among 
 bogs and bowlders, he saw four men toiling along before 
 him. They were grave in gait, and, but for the want of 
 swords, looked like disbanded Ironsides. They walked, 
 too, like men having some earnest purpose ; and when 
 Kelder overtook them he asked if they had business 
 that way. 
 
 " We have a great business on God's earth, yet not in 
 men's market-places ; " and then walking by Kelder's side 
 they reasoned with him of righteousness and of judg 
 ment to come, and specially of that attractive doctrine 
 of the Inward Light, alluring men by the infallibility of 
 its guidance and the independence of its individuality. 
 
 One of the men was John Audland, a young Independ 
 ent minister of great learning, who had joined Fox at his 
 first appearing, and Kelder had some knowledge both of 
 him and of his wife, the beautiful, wealthy, and pious 
 Anne Newby. He gladly talked with him until they came 
 to a lonely farmhouse at which the evangelists were to 
 stay, and he never forgot John's parting words, 
 
 " Odinel Kelder, if a prophet told thee to do some 
 great thing, thou wouldst gladly obey him. Thou wouldst 
 draw up truth from the deep, or bring it down from the 
 heavens; but thou canst not believe it is within thee. 
 Stretching out thy hands to an unknown God, thou 
 heedest not the God in whom thou livest, and movest, 
 and hast thy being."
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 24! 
 
 It was sunset when they parted, and Kelder rode on, 
 full of thought, until the gray hills and the gray clouds 
 met, and the horizon was like a still sea. A lonely hos 
 telry received him, and he was weary enough to have 
 slept soundly ; but neither weariness nor the thought of 
 home, now only a day's journey distant, could put aside 
 the seriously transcendent words of John Audland. True, 
 he had not Fox's imperial logic, but he had Paul's faith 
 in his heart, and Paul's words on his tongue ; and Kelder, 
 do as he would, could not rid himself of the great apos 
 tle's manifesto, " I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in 
 me." 
 
 And then the wailing of a babe in the next room 
 recalled the mystery of the Incarnation, and it was gray 
 dawn when he went to sleep, with that same wonder in 
 his heart that Richard Crashaw had just so eloquently 
 expressed for him : 
 
 " That He whom the sun serves should faintly peep 
 Through clouds of infant flesh ; that He the old 
 Eternal Word would be a child, and weep ; 
 That He who made the fire should feel the cold ; 
 That Heaven's high Majesty his court should keep 
 In a clay cottage, by each blast controlled ; 
 
 That Glory's self should serve our griefs and fears, 
 
 And free Eternity submit to years." 
 
 In the evening of the following day the baron reached 
 Kelderby. There all things were as usual, but he heard 
 that a small Lody of cavalry had taken up their quarters 
 in Kendal. They had offered no information concerning 
 their visit, and Kelder, though suspecting it, was equally 
 reticent. The generality knew that Kendal and its vicin- 
 ty was the home of many active royalists. Lord Derwent 
 had recently fled to the king in France, and so men with 
 bad consciences concerning their affection to the Com 
 monwealth walked very softly, and kept their tongues 
 
 16
 
 242 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 even from good, while those stern-looking Artegals walked 
 silent and watchful up and down the quiet streets of their 
 town. 
 
 De Burg heeded them very little. He knew more of 
 forbidden knowledge than most of the citizens, and he 
 was confident they were watching Strickland. For this 
 young man had a certain bravery of his opinions, and a 
 contempt for any equivocal hiding of them, which De 
 Burg had often foretold would bring him into trouble. 
 He expected every morning to hear of his arrest, and he 
 was happy in the expectation ; for he had not forgotten 
 Strickland's contemptuous treatment, neither was he so 
 much the friend of the king as to put the safety of his 
 friends before the punishment of De Burg's enemies. 
 
 He had no knowledge of the baron's visit to London. 
 Events happening in Sjlverdale took a long time to reach 
 Kendal, especially in the haying season, and he saw 
 Nathaniel frequently about the town, or on the highways. 
 Even if a visit to Cromwell had suggested itself to his 
 mind, he would have been certain that only Nathaniel 
 could take it ; but such an event never occurred to him 
 as probable. He could break faith as suited his desire 
 or his convenience, but he did not reflect that his own 
 breach of honour cancelled the obligations of others. 
 
 Also, he had plenty of private business to attend to. 
 Anastasia required more conciliation than he had ever 
 before considered it necessary to give to any woman ; 
 and Chenage, having in a manner arranged his own 
 happiness, was not concerned to redeem his promises to 
 De Burg as promptly' as De Burg expected and desired. 
 He had been compelled to let the vessel belonging to 
 Le Tail's friend sail without him, and in consequence 
 had had to make two secret journeys to Whitehaven, in 
 order to arrange with another captain.
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 243 
 
 But at length the ^200 was paid, the ship waiting, 
 and Anastasia gave that reluctant consent which ne 
 cessity wrings from the unwilling heart. Chenage and 
 De Burg wished the ceremony to be as private as pos 
 sible, but Anastasia's nature demanded the support 
 which a crowd of fellow-creatures was sure to give her. 
 She felt that if she must transact this business of marriage 
 it could be done with the least suffering to herself if the 
 whole town was present to give her its admiration and 
 approval. 
 
 And when she appeared on her bridal morning King 
 Solomon in all his glory might well have been astonished 
 at this young woman. Her dress of silver brocade had 
 a stomacher of pearls ; three rows of pearls encircled 
 her throat ; bracelets of pearls were around her arms ; 
 a golden comb set with pearls held back the veil of her 
 flowing hair. Her neck and bosom were partly covered 
 with a scarf of French lace, and a little apron of the 
 same material was full of white roses. The moonlight 
 radiance, the soft shimmer of her whole toilet, but in 
 tensified the brilliance of her beauty, of eyes that 
 flashed or languished as it pleased her; of cheeks that 
 glowed like carnations ; of an air at once resolved, 
 daring, cajoling, and fascinating. 
 
 The sun shone with a brilliance that went to the 
 heart ; the bells were ringing as if each separate bell 
 had a conscious, jubilant voice ; the town had the air of 
 a holiday, and as she went through it hearty hurrahs 
 answered the bells, and women and children threw flow 
 ers into her coach, with loud-spoken admiration and 
 good wishes. 
 
 All this tumult of bride-blessing was seriously disliked 
 by Chenage. What had these crowds of men and 
 women to do with his Anastasia? He was jealously
 
 244 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 angry that they should appropriate any portion of his 
 joy, or assume the right to look at his bride and express 
 their interest in her beauty and happiness. A sullen 
 gloom was in his eyes, even as he walked to the altar; 
 but when Anastasia scattered her roses before it, and 
 then turned to him with a smile, he forgot everything 
 but the loveliness of the girl whose hand he took. 
 
 De Burg watched him with hearty suspicion and dis 
 like. He had learned both to doubt and to detest him ; 
 and there had been hours lately in which Anastasia, had 
 she known it, could have changed her fate by a tear or a 
 caress. So near in life do two destinies often meet. 
 The quiver of an eyelid might enable a soul to pass 
 from misery to happiness ; but ignorance of the fact 
 makes the barrier insurmountable, beyond effort, and 
 beyond hope. Anastasia would gladly have broken the 
 chain of circumstances in which she was bound, but her 
 evil genius stood watching her with sarcastic approval, 
 always choosing the wrong moment, always taking the 
 wrong method, in any effort she made for this end. 
 And at last it was too late. She was the wife of Roger 
 Chenage, and he soon let her understand her new posi 
 tion. In the church, with the wedding guests standing 
 around, his first words to her had the tone of a 
 command. 
 
 " Come, Asia ! " 
 
 Only two words, but they were uttered with the 
 peremptory air of a master, and De Burg looked at his 
 daughter with a quick and angry inquiry. Did she wish 
 him, even then and there, to answer for her? Anastasia 
 met the unspoken sympathy with eyes full of meaning ; 
 there was defiance and strength and satisfaction in them, 
 and for many a doubtful day De Burg rested himself in . 
 the confidence of that quick, assuring glance.
 
 ANASTASIA' S MARRIAGE. 24$ 
 
 Wedding breakfasts are often but sorry affairs ; how 
 often is their mirth fictitious, how often at the bottom of 
 the laugh and the wine- cup is there some pretence, 
 disappointment, or uncertainty. But there was at least 
 the semblance of joy in De Burg Hall while Anastasia 
 queened it a few hours longer in her father's house. 
 She sat at the head of the feast, and all drank to her 
 loveliness, and all praised her past and gave her good 
 wishes for her future. 
 
 Chenage was little pleased at the secondary part he 
 had to play. For he also was splendidly attired in ruby 
 velvet and white satin, with ruby brooches fastening the 
 white feathers in his hat and the satin points of his 
 doublet. However, there are times when the surliest of 
 mortals are compelled to pretend to the virtue they do 
 not possess, and a man has an obligation at least to 
 affect happiness on his wedding-day. So Chenage drank 
 deeply, and laughed loudly, and complimented himself, 
 until he attained a comfortable state of self-complaisance. 
 
 Early in the afternoon his carriage, drawn by six 
 horses, drove up to De Burg for his bride. Anastasia 
 saw it coming, and her heart sank within her. To hide 
 her tears she fled to her room. There was some excuse 
 made of necessary changes in her toilet, but with or 
 without excuse she felt she could no longer play her 
 part unless she were permitted a little space for entire 
 abandonment of it. When she was surely alone, and 
 the bolt drawn between her and the world, what a trans 
 formation there was ! She wrung her hands, she whis 
 pered passionate words of wrong and misery and hate. 
 She forgot the waiting coach and the impatient bride 
 groom ; she felt nothing and cared for nothing but the 
 outrageous and cruel mockery which had deprived her 
 of freedom and driven her from the home where at
 
 246 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 least she had been loved and indulged far beyond the 
 women of her generation. 
 
 In such a tempest of sorrow she forgot time, she for 
 got the ostensible purpose for which she had sought her 
 room. She was recalled to the facts of her present 
 state by a sudden sense of tumult in the hall where the 
 feast was spread. She stood up and listened intently, 
 never doubting but that her father and her husband had 
 at length found a good opportunity for the quarrel 
 latent between them. A feeling of satisfaction sent 
 smiles to her lips and a wicked dancing light to her 
 eyes. She began to unfasten the white knot on her 
 brocaded shoe, and to count the pearls with which the 
 instep was ornamented, asking herself the while, " What 
 need to hurry?" If Chenage was getting his first 
 lesson, she would give her father time to make it a very 
 thorough one. 
 
 " One, two, three, four large pearls, and eleven small 
 ones. I must have lost one. What is the matter? I 
 swear they are fighting ! That is my father's voice, and, 
 by my soul ! I like not its tone." 
 
 She instantly clasped the shoe on her foot again and 
 went swiftly back to the wedding guests. All was in an 
 uproar, and De Burg stood foaming with passion under 
 the iron grip of two soldiers. Six others stood at the 
 door ; and their captain, a stern old man, insensible to 
 all earthly voices but such as gave an order, was reading 
 to De Burg the particular one under which he was 
 acting. It was Cromwell's own, and De Burg in his 
 fury spit at it. 
 
 Anastasia needed no explanation. She clung to her 
 father with tears and passionate outcries ; and when 
 Chenage would have taken her in his own arms she 
 turned on him with inconceivable rage, and vowed that
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 2\J 
 
 "he, and only he, had been the deceiver and the be 
 trayer of her father." Her beauty, her rich apparel, her 
 despairing love and grief for her father, her withering 
 contempt for her husband, her reckless scorn for Crom 
 well and all of Cromwell's doings, her vehement expres 
 sions of loyalty to the king, invested the girl with an 
 insolence and a splendor of defiance which touched 
 nearly every man in the room. 
 
 Le Tall fidgeted from window to window. The sol 
 diers glanced from under dropped eyelids, and were as 
 sorry for her as they, dared be for such an incarnation of 
 the world and the flesh. Only the grim Ironside read 
 ing Cromwell's order was indifferent to the vision of 
 carnal loveliness. He indeed looked at Anastasia for a 
 moment, but it was with repulsion ; and though she 
 turned to him with eyes swimming with tears, he gave 
 the order for De Burg's removal as resolutely as' if he 
 had been made invulnerable to the sweet influences of 
 womankind. 
 
 There were reasons for such insensibility. During his 
 stay in Kendal he had made himself familiar with the 
 nature, the history, and the life of the De Burgs. He 
 read Anastasia as if her face was a printed book. He 
 had watched all of De Burg's movements ; he had 
 fathomed the depth of his turpitude. He had heard and 
 comprehended the whole affair relating to Roger Pri- 
 deaux. He thought no better of Anastasia than of her 
 father. Her beauty was the Devil's beauty, and he saw 
 behind it the cruel heart and the false tongue. Silly 
 men might fall into her snares, but Captain Giles Quar- 
 ritch never ! 
 
 Having read aloud the order under which he acted, 
 he gave the word of command. Then Le Tall stepped 
 forward and said,
 
 248 FRIEND OLIVIA, 
 
 " Captain, consider if herein bail may not be taken. I 
 would myself do much." 
 
 " It may not even be put to the question, sir. I act 
 upon first orders." 
 
 " At leastwise suffer your prisoner to see his daughter 
 away, and to make some arrangements concerning his 
 household." 
 
 " There needs no more ordering of it. He was ready 
 to leave England for France this sunset had he not been 
 interrupted in his intentions." 
 
 " Take you him to Lancaster Castle or to London ! " 
 
 " He goeth to Appleby jail, until the assize settle the 
 quality of his guilt." 
 
 There was a moment of high-strung silence, a sharp 
 cry, and Anastasia fell senseless at her father's feet. 
 Some women-servants were called, and they carried the 
 insensible bride into an adjoining room. 
 
 She came back to consciousness in a fit of hysterical 
 weeping which she was unable to control. It ended in a 
 deep sleep, and the afternoon was far advanced when she 
 awakened. An ominous stillness was in the house. Re 
 fusing all assistance, she rose and went to the dividing 
 door and opened it. The table was still covered with 
 the remains of the feast, but the guests had all gone. 
 The hateful Parliamentary soldiers had also left, and 
 they had taken her father away with them. To Appleby ! 
 The word rung in her ears as if it was beat upon a 
 thousand anvils. Pale and distraught, she stood in the 
 doorway gazing upon the deserted banquet. Chenage 
 soon disturbed her revery. 
 
 " Come, Mistress," he said. " If you are yourself 
 again, we will go home. This house is worse than a 
 nightmare." 
 
 " I will stay here until my father comes back."
 
 ANASTASIA'S MARRIAGE. 249 
 
 " I promise you will be at Chenage before you eat or 
 sleep again. Three of my men are on the coach ; be 
 pleased to say if you will use their feet or your own." 
 
 Then she resolutely called her soul to duty. She saw 
 that he would willingly humiliate her if she permitted him 
 the opportunity, and she answered, "I am ready. Go 
 when you will." 
 
 "Take off that finery; pearls are not bought for a 
 penny or two. You may lose them." 
 
 " You bought them not. They are the De Burg 
 pearls." 
 
 "They were. They are now mine." 
 
 " If they are now yours, then I will never wear them 
 more. Here ! " And she snatched them from her neck 
 and arms and bosom, and flung them on the floor at his 
 feet. Then turning from him, she sent one of her women 
 for her cloak and another for her hood, and before Chen- 
 age had gathered and put safely into his pockets the 
 precious beads she was ready for the journey. 
 
 The afternoon was well on, and the road rough and 
 lonely. The hills soon shut them in, and as the sun set 
 the mist came swooping down and wrapped them in its 
 damp, depressing atmosphere. Anastasia sat gazing in 
 ward, backward, forward, anywhere but on the man at 
 her side ; and the servants, who had expected wine and 
 mirth and wedding gifts, sat silent also, wondering and 
 disappointed. Chenage made several attempts to con 
 ciliate his bride, for he felt both wounded and mortified ; 
 but Anastasia was as one who heard not. Her fine wed 
 ding-dress gleamed in the gathering darkness, but she 
 took no heed of it, though it caught the dust of the high 
 way and the d#mp and tarnish of the mist and the mud 
 and water of the rocky becks. 
 
 It was nine o'clock when they reached Chenage
 
 2$O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Grange, but the summer twilight cast a pallid, mournful 
 light, making all things unreal and shadowy. She glanced 
 up at the house as they approached it, and sighed heavily. 
 It stood gauntly among melancholy moors in the midst 
 of a grove of decaying trees. There was a garden in 
 front of it, but it was fallen into neglect, and made sor 
 rowful by the shuddering gloom of its numerous yew- 
 trees. A doleful house, haunted by memories of evil- 
 doing and wraiths of unredeemed wrong. 
 
 A number of servants, old men and women, stood in 
 the hall to receive their new mistress. There were some 
 candles in the wall sconces, but they made only a dull 
 light in the large empty place. Still it was enough for 
 Anastasia to see the gray stooping figures of her new do 
 mestics as they parted to let her pass between them. 
 
 Trailing her lustrous dress, with a head proudly lifted, 
 and sad eyes seeing nothing but the steep stairway up 
 which Chenage preceded her, Anastasia entered her 
 new home. Two old men soon afterward put out the 
 lights, and as they did so they shook their heads at each 
 other with a prophetic intelligence of sorrow. When 
 this duty was done they hobbled back to the kitchen fire, 
 where the women, not yet too old to be envious of the 
 bride's beauty, and angry at her for neglecting their spe 
 cial claim upon her notice, sat muttering of evil portents. 
 
 But Anastasia had at this hour no thought of concilia 
 tion, no wish for sympathy. The presumption of youth 
 had told her that she should " always dwell in painless 
 towers," and it was hard for her all at once to be forced 
 to endure both the present and the oncoming pang, and 
 to acknowledge to herself that she must bear her destiny 
 as best she could, knowing wll the resistless might of 
 necessity.
 
 XIII. 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 
 
 " When a wrong idea possesses any woman much bitterness flows from 
 her." 
 
 " See how faithless is the female race and ye are partners in what has 
 been done." 
 
 / "~PO be content with little is hard ; to be content with 
 * a great deal is almost impossible. While Kel- 
 derby was nearly lost, Lady Kelder had made but very 
 modest demands upon the future ; now that there was 
 no strange finger upon its title-deeds, she was conscious 
 of more comprehensive expectations. After the baron's 
 return she went about her fair old home with something 
 of the same elation which had made her as a bride so 
 proudly happy, so gratefully aware of her fine position. 
 Then the care that had been second became prime, and 
 she felt that it was impossible to be content unless Na 
 thaniel could be induced to give up Olivia. 
 
 " And I look to fight this battle alone, Jael," she said ; 
 " for as the baron grows old, he grows more careless in 
 particulars. I trow he would make the narrow road to 
 heaven wide enough for all sorts of men, even such as 
 the Quakers." 
 
 " I think, my Lady, you are such an one as would like 
 a great company with you on heaven's highway. Maybe 
 them as wants to go there alone won't get there at all." 
 
 " Jael, I am not a bigot, and you know it ; but I do 
 like people to be either saints or sinners,"
 
 252 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Not in nature, my Lady. There be plenty of shades 
 between white and black, and twilight comes between 
 day and night, middling kinds everywhere." 
 
 " Then I will none of them. The Rev. Mr. Duttred 
 says that Quakers have neither churches nor priests nor 
 creeds, being all in themselves. If a man is a Christian, 
 he has a creed. You know that, Jael." 
 
 " Indeed, my Lady, if men must learn theology ere 
 they learn Christ, our blessed heaven will be empty, I 
 know that ; and 't is most sure that the Quakers pattern 
 their lives after Christ. On Prideaux's estate there be 
 none poor, and the old and the sick want neither help 
 nor comfort. Mistress Prideaux taught old John of 
 Scraffel Fell to read his Bible, and 't is a common report 
 that she pays Dame Boyd to teach the lads and lasses 
 day by day." 
 
 "Small thanks to her. I like not people educated 
 above their wits. Fill a cup beyond what it will hold, 
 and it slops over to no decent purpose ; and I can tell 
 you this, Jael, the little cups are very plenty." 
 
 "True, my Lady." 
 
 On the very night of his return home the baron had 
 told Lady Kelder of Olivia's interview with the Protector. 
 "A lovely girl," he said, "who affected his spiritual na 
 ture in the same way as a beautiful view affected his eye." 
 
 " Who was with her ? How was she dressed ? What 
 was her behaviour? " 
 
 " She came into the presence with George Fox. Her 
 dress was of a rich dark satin ; her head was uncovered ; 
 her hands were dropped and lightly clasped. She hath 
 a very comely face, and great wisdom and composure." 
 
 " I will warrant the ' composure,' for I must tell you I 
 went to call upon her, being anxious, for Nathaniel'3 
 sake, to see if there was any good thing in her. Com-
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 253 
 
 posure ! Faith ! she was like a marble woman ; and I 
 vow, as I am Lady Kelder, that she almost dismissed me 
 her presence." 
 
 "Nay, then " 
 
 " Oh, I mean not in so many words, but she rose up 
 and asked if I would eat or drink, and the motion so fit 
 into' my own mood that I followed it and rose also with 
 out consideration. I have had a spite at myself ever 
 since " 
 
 " I think, indeed, that Nathaniel might seek farther 
 for a wife and find worse." 
 
 " I would rather he never married at all." 
 
 " Joan ! Who, then, comes after him ? Would you 
 have Kelderby go to my second cousin Nicholas and his 
 sons?" 
 
 " I hate Nicholas Kelder, but he is better than Olivia." 
 
 "Joan, you talk only from your lips outward. The 
 girl is lovely and good and hath the likelihood of a fine 
 estate. For my part, I wish no greater ill may ever 
 come to Nathaniel than his full wish in the matter of 
 Olivia Prideaux." 
 
 " I think she casts a spell over every man. If good 
 King James were yet alive she would be counted a witch. 
 And if she hath you on one side and Nathaniel on the 
 other, pray shall I walk behind her? " 
 
 " You and I are one, Joan." 
 
 " Not if the Quakeress comes between us. And I tell 
 you plainly, Odinel, I will not have her under this roof, 
 nor yet will I give Swaffham for her use, nor will I ever 
 give her welcome as Nathaniel's wife. Faith ! for one 
 so wondrous fair and wise the place is too small for 
 her deserts." 
 
 This was the keynote of Lady Kelder's domestic 
 mood, as that mood affected Nathaniel and Olivia. But
 
 254 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Nathaniel was a wise young man, and knew how to guide 
 his affairs without making any offensive parade of his 
 independence. Affection and reflection had alike taught 
 him that there was neither honour nor self-respect in a 
 victory of any kind over his mother. He could, despite 
 of her, take his own way ; but how unblessed and sad a 
 way it would be if, in order to take it, he must tread un 
 der his feet even the prejudices of a heart so dear to 
 him ! 
 
 So though he went to see Olivia constantly, there was 
 as little remark as might be concerning the visits. For 
 life at Sandys had fallen into orderly grooves. Hannah 
 Mettelane would suffer no usual duty to be neglected. 
 The farm-men went about the haymaking and shearing 
 and harvesting as if Roger was only on a journey and 
 might be home at any hour. The confections and sweet 
 waters were made in their order and season. The still- 
 room was crowded with bowls and platters holding sweet 
 herbs and brews. The atmosphere of the house was like 
 a spice-garden, and the garden itself as gay as if it was 
 an outgarth of Paradise. 
 
 Roger wrote once a week to his daughter and his sister. 
 He made no complaint of suffering or ill-usage, and it was 
 so natural to hope for the best that perhaps more was 
 hoped than there was warrant for. But Roger's trial 
 was to take place in September, and the time was always 
 spoken of as that of " Roger's return." 
 
 One day toward the end of August, Nathaniel went to 
 Sandys early in the afternoon. It was a hot day, full of 
 brilliant sunshine. The shadows were diaphanously pur 
 plish, the winds were all at peace, and a mysterious calm 
 brooded over the lonely land. Never had the long, ram 
 bling house had an air so homelike and so ancient. It 
 seemed as much a part of the landscape as the distant
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 255 
 
 hills or the brawling trout- stream, which was one of its 
 boundaries. 
 
 Between the garden and the park there was a row of 
 sycamore trees, and in their amber shadows he tied his 
 horse ; for he expected Olivia to be in the garden, and 
 he went up and down it looking for her. There was not 
 a sound except the busy murmur of the bees around their 
 hives, straw skeps, full of the scent of mountain flow 
 ers and the aroma of pine woods. Near them was a 
 trickling spring, and like sentinels around it the August 
 lilies stood, virgin flowers, exhaling the airs of heaven, 
 and clad in the lawn of almost naked light. 
 
 As he gazed at them, spellbound by their sweet purity, 
 he saw Olivia coming toward him. She also was ciothed 
 in white, and her tall, slight form and pale, radiant face 
 gave her a strange similitude to the flowers. He has 
 tened to meet her ; he took her hands in his and led her 
 to the shaded seat beside the fountain and the lilies. 
 How full of meaning were their common words of cour 
 tesy ! How eloquent her speaking face, her clear, candid 
 eyes, the light touch of her hand upon his arm ! 
 
 He spoke to her first of those ordinary mutual interests 
 which he always found it well to use as introductory. 
 For Olivia was no babbler and no complainer. The ten 
 dency of women with their lovers is to meet them with 
 some tale of sorrow or of petty tyranny, and so to enlist 
 either a true or an affected sympathy. Olivia would not 
 so wrong herself; she was just, and would not wrong 
 others ; she trusted Nathaniel's love and knew that it 
 could not be increased by sentimental complaining, nor 
 made more tender by fictitious opposition. She would 
 have scorned the love which required nurturing by means 
 so false and contemptible. 
 
 So hitherto their courtship had been undimmed by un-
 
 2 $6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 necessary complaining and tears. As for their real sor 
 rows, they were discussed simply, without exaggeration, 
 and in confidence with all who shared them. This after 
 noon, however, Nathaniel felt, rather than saw, some new 
 cause of distress ; but he waited patiently for Olivia to 
 open her heart to him, and she was not in a hurry to 
 cloud the calm rapture of their meeting. She listened 
 to all his doings and plans, his hopes of a return 
 to Parliament, his militia honours and annoyances, his 
 anxieties about his father's health, his pleasant sym 
 pathies in his mother's successes with her cosmetics and 
 confections. 
 
 Then there was a little pause. Her head lay back 
 ward against the green wall of privet. Nathaniel clasped 
 her hand. The warm, sweet garden was full of peace and 
 fragrance ; it was all their own. In their simple nearness 
 to each other they were blissfully happy, but they did 
 not tell each other so ; for the sense of happiness which 
 makes us silent is far superior to that which makes us elo 
 quent, and Joy is shyer than Grief, the heavenly visi 
 tant but flutters a moment between two hearts and is 
 gone. Olivia broke the spell with a sigh, and then he 
 heard the words he had been half fearing to hear, 
 
 "Nathaniel, there hath been a sad letter from my 
 father." 
 
 ' My dear heart ! I felt it. Surely he is not ill? " 
 
 " My father is well, but Asa Bevin is very sick indeed. 
 I fear that lie will not recover. Also, De Burg hath 
 an inflammation, and is out of reason and beyond 
 management." 
 
 " De Burg ' sick and in prison.' That concerns me, 
 Olivia." 
 
 " I think so. My father is caring for him ; but Asa is 
 also in his charge, and I fear that the labour will be too
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 
 
 great for him. Nathaniel, I think that I ought to go to 
 Appleby." 
 
 " I will go for you. 'T is beyond reason that you 
 should go. Also, I do not think that you would be let 
 behind bars. And, my dear one, how could you bear it, 
 if you were ? " 
 
 " There are more than fifty women Friends now in 
 common jails for conscience' sake. Many of them are 
 even more delicately nurtured than I. And Asa is not 
 only Asa. There is One who deigns to hold Asa's suffer 
 ings as his own. I cannot have him say to my heart, ' I 
 was sick, and ye visited me not.' How could I bear such 
 a reproach? " 
 
 "What says Mistress Mettelane? " 
 
 " She thinks that going before our set time is but a 
 forcing of Providence. But, Nathaniel, my dear one, she 
 hath the making of the elderflower wine on her hands, 
 and she cannot see how a greater duty must put by a 
 lesser one. Her conscience is very tender, but it is near 
 sighted. What is far off, or what is far away, troubles 
 it not." 
 
 " In general it is a good spirit. Sufficient unto the 
 day is the care of the day ; and in this matter I think 
 you may be guided by your aunt. I will go to Appleby ; 
 I will go at once." 
 
 " I cannot take ' think.' I must be sure. And not any 
 one, not even thee, dear Nathaniel, can do my duty for 
 me." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "I will seek clearness. and counsel this night, and the 
 way He shows me I will take, however strait it be." 
 
 " Oh, Olivia ! You do not know what a jail is ; even 
 to see its horrors, will terrify you." 
 
 " Many of my sisters are living in its horrors. I wish 
 17
 
 258 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 not to pass my days more at ease in this world than 
 Christ passed his, than those bearing his testimony 
 have the measure of." 
 
 " But, dearest, this jail is a very valley of death." 
 
 " The snares of life are greater than the fears of death. 
 And thou knowest that there is a life unknown, hid from 
 men, but most intimate with God. This life is indifferent 
 to its surroundings. It is as possible in Appleby jail as 
 in this fair garden of Sandys. A dear friend who visited 
 my father told him that while lying in the common jail 
 at Dover Castle he knew the glory of this hidden life. 
 ' Roger,' he said, ' as I lay upon my bed of straw in a 
 comfortable sleep and rest, the hand of my God fell upon 
 me, and his sweet and comforting presence awakened 
 me, and so continued with me unto the morning watch ; 
 and my soul was filled with his living presence, as with a 
 mighty river, so that nothing appeared but joy and glad 
 ness.' This also is my God, and I have waited for him. 
 So thou seest this life hid with God is not dependent on 
 outward circumstances. And if I would keep peace at 
 home, that is, in my own soul, I must not wrong my 
 conscience. In the morning, come, and I will go with 
 thee, or send by thee ; I am ready, as the way is 
 opened." 
 
 " I will come. What are the particulars concerning my 
 cousin De Burg?" 
 
 " He hath been unmanageable from the first, and hath 
 drunk much wine. Now he knows not anything, and my 
 father thinks him to be in a very bad condition." 
 
 "A sharp sauce has De Bujg got himself with the 
 cursedness of his own way." 
 
 " Thou shouldst not reproach the unhappy. The hand 
 of God is upon them." 
 
 He could oppose her will no longer. Her holy eyes
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 2$$ 
 
 pleaded with him, nay, they commanded him, and he 
 felt obliged to heed them. 
 
 But it was with an anxious and sorrowful heart that he 
 returned to Kelderby. The baron and Lady Kelder had 
 been talking of their son and Olivia Prideaux, and Lady 
 Kelder was angry at what she considered the sinful indif 
 ference of her husband. But Kelder had come to that 
 time of life when he did not care to be continually med 
 dling with what he could not mend ; and he knew his 
 son well enough to be sure that passionate disapproval 
 and sharp words would not change him. 
 
 " Dear heart," he said, " you are wide and foolish in 
 your conjectures when you guess at Nathaniel's temper. 
 You would succeed better with fewer and kinder words, 
 constantly yet not perversely urged. Where one cannot 
 drive a nail, Joan, it is often possible to put in a screw." 
 
 But women, as a rule, prefer to fasten their opinions 
 with the nail ; and on this night the method appeared a 
 peculiarly good one to Lady Kelder. She was in that 
 impatient mood which cannot endure suspense. She 
 wanted to know the best and the worst of the matter, 
 if there was any best in it ; and when she turned to the 
 opening door which admitted Nathaniel, the inquiry in all 
 its aggressive indignation was on her face. 
 
 Nathaniel was dusty and weary, for he had ridden hard, 
 and there was in his countenance and air a sense of 
 trouble which displeased and piqued his mother. She 
 felt at once that it referred to Sandys. Nathaniel always 
 brought trouble home by that way. She looked pointedly 
 at his disordered toilet, and Nathaniel nervously an 
 nounced his intention of renewing it before he ate. She 
 permitted him to do so without dissent. He would have 
 given the Quakeress so much respect, she was sure, and 
 she would not have one tittle less for her own part. But
 
 260 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 she atoned for this strict demand of the anise and cum 
 min due to affection by ordering him just the refresh 
 ment she knew he would enjoy. And she welcomed 
 him to it with smiles, and served the food with her own 
 hands. 
 
 Nathaniel showed his pleasure and gratitude by lifting 
 her face to his own and kissing it. She almost forgave 
 him everything in that gentle act, until she reflected that 
 he had probably just kissed also "that Quaker girl." 
 The thought chilled her at once. She sat down, and 
 waited for her opportunity. 
 
 The baron had laid aside his book and was walking up 
 and down the fast- darkening room. Something in his 
 son's face and manner had impressed him, as well as 
 Lady Kelder, with "a sense of unpleasant news; and he 
 had been listening to her anticipations of more trouble 
 with a presentiment that they were true. 
 
 "Where have you been, Nathaniel?" 
 
 " I have been to Sandys, Father." 
 
 " Of course. His horse goes as naturally to Sandys, 
 Baron, as it goes to its manger." 
 
 Nathaniel glanced at his mother's darkening face, but 
 made no answer. The baron said " Chut ! " impatiently, 
 and stood in the middle of the room, looking at his 
 son. 
 
 " We are expecting ill news from you, Nathaniel, and, 
 as all seasons are seasonable for men to be anxious and 
 unhappy, deliver it without preliminaries." 
 
 " De Burg is very ill. He has lost his reason, and is, 
 I think, like to die." 
 
 " Well, then, only death restrains wicked men from 
 doing more mischief." 
 
 " Dear mother, he is of our kin. He is alone, and 
 sick, and in prison. You know what I ought to do."
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 26 1 
 
 " You ought to leave him alone, and sick, and in 
 prison. Never does God Almighty give the wicked their 
 desert in this world but some one, out of a spurious and 
 unrighteous pity, must interfere with the Almighty's jus 
 tice. Leave De Burg alone. There are poisonous 
 families as there are poisonous reptiles ; the De Burgs 
 hurt all who come nigh them." 
 
 " What is your thought, Nathaniel? " 
 
 " I think, Father, that I ought to go to Appleby, and 
 see that our cousin hath proper care. If a good man is 
 sick, God makes his bed for him, and then how can it 
 choose but be well made, and be made to please him ? 
 But the sick-bed of a bad man, without earthly friends 
 or heavenly friends ! Sure, it is a piteous case, Father. 
 What say you? " 
 
 " If your conscience bids you go, Nathaniel, you get 
 your orders from headquarters. I dare not give you 
 counter-orders. Only be sure that you feel what you 
 think, or else you lie to yourself." 
 
 " It seems to me, Baron, that your religion is for use 
 in some other life than this one. When God punishes 
 our enemies we have plenty of warrant for rejoicing in 
 their punishment." 
 
 "An eye for an eye, truly, in the Old Testament. 
 But, Joan, we have come not unto Sinai, but unto Mount 
 Zion and the gospel of peace and good-will." 
 
 " Was it indeed good-will that made Paul strike 
 Elymas blind ? and Saint Peter slay Ananias and Sapphira 
 for a sin which Peter himself had been guilty of in a 
 worse kind? Was it a gospel of good-will that made 
 the disciples forbid the Syro- Phoenician woman? Yet they 
 also had come under the dispensation of Mount Zion." 
 
 " They were but men, dear Joan. Let us look higher. 
 What of the works of Jesus Christ? Were they not all
 
 262 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 saving works ? It is not Paul, not Peter, but Christ, that 
 we must copy." 
 
 " It seemeth to me that it goes harder with saints 
 than sinners on all hands." 
 
 Neither Nathaniel nor the baron answered her. They 
 were both capable of that restraint which is characteristic 
 of real strength. Nathaniel was sure of his duty, and 
 the baron was not inclined to tamper with either his own 
 or his son's conscience. He had come to those reason 
 able years when the forces of the senses and the body 
 retire into the mind. For the evening of a good life 
 brings its lamp with it, and by this light Baron Kelder 
 saw many things clearly that he had not seen at all when 
 his natural sight was keen and undimmed. So, under 
 standing there was no wisdom like silence, he held his 
 peace, and continued his soft, slow walk up and down 
 the room. But his manner was that of one who has 
 examined a subject and decided upon it. 
 
 " Our good is what does us good, and we are not 
 innocent if we harm ourselves. I don't think the Al 
 mighty objects if we care a little for our own welfare. 
 There is always fever in a jail, and I think, Baron, you 
 and Nathaniel ought to remember that." 
 
 " Asa Bevin is very ill with jail fever." 
 
 The words cost Nathaniel an effort. He felt that he 
 ought to have spoken of Asa, and of Olivia's desire to go 
 to Appleby, before he discussed the case of De Burg. 
 Now he must suffer almost righteously the suspicion 
 sure to follow his belated honesty. Lady Kelder looked 
 quickly at him, and he was still innocent and ingenuous 
 enough to blush for his want of candour. 
 
 " Is the Quaker Prideaux sick also ? " 
 
 " He is well, but he is worn out with nursing both 
 Asa and De Burg."
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 263 
 
 "Is the Quakeress going to Appleby?" 
 
 " 'T is yet uncertain. Her aunt is opposed to the 
 journey until the set time arrives. Olivia Prideaux has 
 not yet he ard ' the Voice ' she waits for." 
 
 " Notify the girl by day-dawning that you are going. 
 You will see then that she will hear what she desires to 
 hear. Nathaniel, I would have taken the shame and 
 wrong more easily had you given it to me with honesty. 
 'T is a most evil journey that De Burg has to be cloak for." 
 
 She felt that there was enough of truth in this accusa 
 tion to warrant it. It gave her a justifiable cause of 
 reproach, and honourable exit from a position hard to 
 maintain. Yet she left the room dissatisfied with her 
 self, and convinced though she had prevented Na 
 thaniel from convincing her that her son was innocent 
 of the deception she affected to believe in. 
 
 Silence followed her departure. The baron sat down 
 in his chair and closed his eyes. He had the attitude of 
 a man who, having come near to his journey's end, has 
 ceased to interest himself about the peculiarities of the 
 road. Nathaniel moved away from the table. A ser 
 vant came in with lights, another carried out the used 
 platters and broken meat. There was not a word 
 spoken, but the silence was a restful one ; it made no 
 impression of ill-feeling upon those who were uncon 
 cerned in it ; it fell upon Nathaniel's fretted heart like a 
 cool shadow. 
 
 He was the first to break its spell. " Father, I shall 
 leave early in the morning. To my mother say all for 
 me that you think kind and right." 
 
 " Yes, yes. But she loves you, Nathaniel, and she 
 suffers." 
 
 " I wish she would not take or make trouble on this 
 subject."
 
 264 FRIEND CLIVIA. 
 
 " If she could forget that you are her son, it would be 
 possible. Would you wish it?" 
 
 " God forbid ! Do you object to my caring for De 
 Burg?" 
 
 " I thank you for it. If you go not, then I shall go 
 myself. I was wondering if Mistress Chenage knew of 
 her father's sickness." 
 
 " I deem it unlikely. Roger Prideaux would not 
 write to her. There is no one else to do so." 
 
 " I will write her a letter to-morrow. Luke Tyson 
 can carry it." 
 
 " 'T is a kind thought. Since her marriage I have not 
 seen her. Before, 't was a strange day if she was not on 
 Kendal streets." 
 
 " I know not Roger Chenage, but his father had an 
 ill name. Hard men are the Chenages, and have 
 been." 
 
 He said the words musingly, and Nathaniel did not 
 reply to them. A reluctance to converse, a disposition 
 to reflection, would not be put aside by any matter of 
 conversation ; and both men were so frank with them 
 selves and with each other as to admit and welcome this 
 strange central longing for rest. For as the whirlwind 
 has its heart of peace, so the truest life, though in a 
 vortex of wheeling, restless cares, has also its innermost 
 cell into which it retires when it is weary, in order that 
 it may be alone with that call it by whatever name we 
 will which is not self. 
 
 Nathaniel left Kelderby so early next morning that he 
 was at Sandys in time for breakfast. He had no need 
 to ask for Olivia's decision; the preparations for 'the 
 journey were evident. Aunt Hannah, a little flustered 
 and worried, with her best dress turned back and pinned 
 at the waist, was giving directions to the servants. The
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 26$ 
 
 coach was at the door, and two men were packing into 
 it a number of those trivialities without which women do 
 not travel. Olivia soon appeared in a gray duffle dress 
 and cloak, and a hood of black silk upon her head. 
 
 " My dear Nathaniel ! " 
 
 " You are going, then, Olivia? " 
 
 " I am sure it is my duty to go." 
 
 " Maybe you are a bit opinion-tied in such matters, 
 Olivia. Surely to goodness, if God Almighty wanted 
 some help for Roger and Asa Bevin, he would be as 
 likely to think of a middle-aged woman like Hannah 
 Mettelane as of a slip of a girl who has n't got her full 
 strength yet. And I must say that the Lord has not 
 given me any orders about going to Appleby." 
 
 " Didst thou ask him for any, Aunt Hannah ? " 
 
 " Nay, my dear lass, I did not. I do my day-by-day 
 duty, content with the charge of it. Many shoulders 
 ask for burdens they aren't fit to bear." 
 
 " But the cross is not to be passed, Aunt Hannah." 
 
 " To be sure it is n't. I never pass a cross that is in 
 my way, Olivia ; and I never go out of my way to find a 
 cross. But you take after your father; you cannot be 
 satisfied unless you are helping other people to bear 
 their crosses. There, now ! say no more. I am ready 
 to go with you, though it is a bit hard to leave a house 
 like this with servants. You know how they go hugger- 
 muggering about, doing nought at all they can help 
 doing, and doing everything wrong they have to put 
 their hands to. However, we must do right, whatever 
 happens, and may we prosper ! " 
 
 " I think, Mistress Mettelane, that we cannot be wrong 
 in a work of charity and human kindness." 
 
 " True, Captain. Charity is a great thing, but there 
 is a deal to be said for the little household graces that
 
 266 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 never go to church and market, but just stay at home 
 and make a quiet joyful life possible. Dear me ! we 
 should be on the move now. Come, Olivia ! We must 
 take time while time is, for time will away." 
 
 " I think we shall have a good journey." 
 
 " Well, Captain, I think so, too. I always hope for 
 the best, and we never know where a blessing may light. 
 Jeffrey threw his staff this morning when he brought the 
 coach to the door, and it fell the way we are to take, 
 Appleby way, and that is a good sign for any 
 journey." 
 
 They were making their last preparations as Hannah 
 Mettelane talked. With her pleasant garrulousness she 
 was trying to put aside that sense of leave-taking which, 
 under the circumstances, could not be void of many 
 fears and anxieties ; and Olivia perceived and seconded 
 her kind intention as well as she was able. As she stood 
 tying her hood and cloak, she said, 
 
 "John Duttred called last night, Nathaniel, and said 
 many kind things." 
 
 " And some that were n't as kind as might have been. 
 But I let him feel that ministers have n't a monopoly of 
 sharp talk, for when he began about the Good Samaritan, 
 I said, ' If I was a minister, John Duttred, I would let that 
 parable lie quiet. It sets ministers in a bad light, 
 it does that ! ' " And Hannah laughed good-naturedly, 
 and with the laugh put her first foot into the coach. 
 
 While the two ladies, accompanied by Nathaniel, 
 travelled the hot, dusty highway which led to Appleby, 
 Luke Tyson was going at a comfortable speed toward 
 Chenage Grange. The Baron had given him no special 
 orders to hurry, and Luke was naturally of a grave and 
 deliberate temper. He stayed at various farmhouses
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 267 
 
 for a drink of milk ; and he had two long religious dis 
 cussions, one with a Quaker laying a stone wall, and 
 the other with a dreamy Fifth Monarchy fanatic, who 
 was singing "Jerusalem the Golden" as he rode slowly 
 through the ferns and heather of Chenage Moor. 
 
 It was about seven in the evening when he reached 
 the Grange. The doors were open, and the sun still 
 above the horizon ; but nevertheless the house had a 
 lonely, inhospitable look, and he had to wait several 
 minutes before any servant appeared to inquire his er 
 rand. They were all at meat, and pleasantly employed 
 in masticating their mutton and discussing the attitude 
 of their master and mistress to each other, as reported 
 by the old steward, Gilbert. 
 
 " She be a Tartar, she be that ! I wonder Master 
 bides her airs and her tempers as well as he do." 
 
 " Master allays speaks middling sharp like to her. 
 He speaks so all day long and every day. As for her 
 temper, it 's past all ; and I don't wonder it breeds tem 
 per. Master never was a peaceable sort of a fellow. 
 There is somebody halloing, and has been for five min 
 utes. One never can get time to eat a bit of meat and 
 have a comfortable talk without being put about one 
 way or another. Thomas Hodges, go and see whatever 
 that fool is halloing for." 
 
 Thomas was detained at least ten minutes, and curi 
 osity was greatly excited. When he returned to the 
 kitchen, there were plenty of questions for him to 
 answer. 
 
 " Why, Thomas, whatever has been the matter ? " 
 
 " A letter for Mistress's own hand." 
 
 "Who brought it?" 
 
 "One of the men from Kelderby." 
 
 " T would be from the young captain, I '11 warrant.
 
 268 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 He was her servant for long years, and sick with love 
 for her. Stephen of Tiptoe, De Burg's old shepherd, 
 told me that much." 
 
 "What did Master say? Out with it, Thomas." 
 
 " He said nothing. But, lass-a-day ! I would n't be 
 Mistress Chenage when he comes to his tongue." 
 
 " Had n't you better ask Kelder's man in to a bite ? 
 He '11 maybe know what message he brought." 
 
 " He is gone. Master bid me send him off, or loose 
 the dogs on him. He went pretty quickly. I say it 
 is hard on us. If ever a caller comes to our gates, it 
 is ' Be off ! or the dogs will know the reason why.' " 
 
 " I 'd like to hear what 's going on." 
 
 " How was Master? " 
 
 " A good bit foxed. He had drunk a bottle." 
 
 In fact Chenage was so far " foxed " that for a mo 
 ment or two he did not realize the full importance of 
 Thomas's message. But Anastasia did. Before her hus 
 band could collect his sottish senses, she had taken the 
 letter and left the room. Then Chenage could but 
 make inquiries, and give the brutal and inhospitable 
 order which hurried Luke Tyson beyond his boundaries. 
 The door shut, he stood hesitating whether to finish his 
 wine, or to follow his wife and take the letter from her. 
 
 Really he was beyond hesitation ; he had got to a 
 point where he was the slave of the bottle, and he sat 
 down and drew it closer to him. " She has read every 
 cursed word in it by this time," he muttered ; " and I 
 will make her give it to me when I am ready for it. I '11 
 wager a crown it was from Nat Kelder. I '11 say it was, 
 and swear it too. Oh, oh, Mistress ! wait till I am 
 ready to read the letter to you. 'T will be a pretty pas 
 time ! " And he refilled his glass, and drank to the 
 anticipation.
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 269 
 
 In the mean time Anastasia, having possessed herself 
 of the letter, ran rapidly with it to her room. She 
 bolted the door, and then stood listening with the white 
 paper pressed tightly against her breast. She had the air 
 of a woman prepared to defend it to the last extremity 
 and then destroy it. But as the moments flew by, and 
 there were no blundering, heavy footsteps upon the 
 stairs or corridor, the hunted look died out of her eyes. 
 She sank into a chair, pale and trembling. Her heart 
 beat wildly with hope, and then sickened with the fear 
 of disappointment. She sat gazing at the seal, desiring 
 yet fearing the revelation which would follow the break 
 ing of it. 
 
 "If it should be from John ! " The writing was not 
 John's writing, and the messenger was not John's mes 
 senger ; but " if it should be ! " She flushed scarlet with 
 the hopes such a thought bred in her. 
 
 The few weeks of married life had made a great 
 change. Fear lurked in the bright darkness of her 
 eyes, and her once gay, thoughtless face had become 
 hard and watchful. Her sunny stream of song was 
 frozen. Her lips had grown unfamiliar with smiles, and 
 she habitually, often very provokingly, took refuge in a 
 stubborn silence. Even her dress had the pathos of 
 apathetic beauty. She delighted in jewels, yet in her 
 present case disdained to wear them. Her brocades 
 and ribbons and laces were out of tone with her mood 
 and surroundings; she could no more adorn herself 
 in them than she could touch the lute or sing her old, 
 merry ballads. 
 
 This night her dress was of white flax cloth, falling 
 away from her throat and elbows in cascades of lace ; 
 and some remnant of inextinguishable vanity had made 
 her put clove carnations in her bosom. But the gown
 
 2/0 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 was crumpled, and it was not as becoming to her as the 
 vivid colours she had been accustomed to wear. She 
 was a tropical bird in the plumage of a sparrow. 
 
 With the letter in her hand, and her dark curling hair 
 falling over her white throat and her white garment, she 
 sat still for a few moments, and then suddenly, with a 
 swift movement, broke the seal and spread the open 
 paper before her. It contained so few lines that its 
 address, "To Mistress Chenage," and its superscription 
 of " Odinel Kelder," met her eyes at the same moment. 
 
 To MISTRESS CHENAGE, Your father, my cousin, 
 Stephen de Burg, is very ill. I thought you might like to 
 go to him at once. My son Nathaniel left for Appleby this 
 morning. He will care for him in the mean time. 
 With respect and well-wishing, your servant, 
 
 ODINEL KELDER. 
 
 That was the burden of it, and oh, how heavy a 
 burden ! Anastasia loved her father with her whole 
 heart. She felt as if the wings of a dove would be too 
 slow to carry her to his sick-bed. " My father ! my 
 father ! " she murmured as she walked restlessly, miser 
 ably, about the room, uncertainly planning, because 
 doubtful of all realization of her plans. Her head 
 ached and throbbed ; she was soon conquered by sheer 
 physical suffering. It would be impossible to discuss 
 the circumstance with Chenage until the morning, and 
 she resolved to seek in sleep oblivion from her pain and 
 sorrow. 
 
 Mechanically, from mere force of habit, she went to 
 her mirror, and began to remove her dress before it. 
 She looked with a sad pity at her wan face, and then 
 in a moment her whole expression changed. She had 
 bared her arm and neck, and on the white flesh there
 
 OLIVIA AND ANASTASIA WANTED. 
 
 were bruises from a brutal hand. She looked steadily 
 at them ; she counted every mark ; she touched the 
 wounded flesh with a tender hand ; and before she was 
 aware, tears a slow, heavy rain of tears fell in pity 
 for her hard fate. When we weep for ourselves, we find 
 either self-evolved consolation, or else the idea of retri 
 bution grows with magical swiftness under that bitter 
 rain. Retribution ! it was the one idea which Anastasia 
 nourished. Everything was made to feed it. She kept 
 a strict account against Roger Chenage. Scorn, insult, 
 cruelty, wrong, every manifestation of them was clear 
 in her memory. One event was to balance all, 
 one 'event for which she eagerly longed and watched. 
 "When John comes!" these three words were her 
 solace for every indignity. 
 
 And John was coming quickly ; of that she was un 
 questionably, indisputably convinced. The whistle of 
 the winds in his sails, the rattle of the cordage, the 
 hoarse cries of the sailors, she heard them as she lay 
 dreaming by day and night; and though generally the 
 prophesying cards lay with "delay" and "disappoint 
 ment," she trusted to the divination of her heart. 
 
 So, whether it was the hand or the tongue that struck 
 her, she possessed her soul in such a strange silence as 
 would have rendered any man less stupid than Chenage 
 watchful and suspicious. He made her delicate flesh 
 wince with shameful pain and her hot blood boil with 
 passion ; but she pacified the raging soul within her by 
 a whisper pregnant with vengeful retribution, " When 
 John conies !"
 
 XIV. 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE. 
 
 " In the night time visited, 
 And seeing with close-shut eyes the day unborn." 
 
 " For she a woman, womanlike in mind, 
 Not of man's strength, alone, without a sword, 
 She hath destroyed me." 
 
 " This shall be thy lot, 
 My stern Avenger dwelling with thee still." 
 
 " What waters of the Don will cleanse me ? Or what sea of Asoph with 
 its barbarous waters bending over the Black Sea ? Not Neptune himself, 
 with his multitudinous waters, will be able to expiate such wickedness." 
 
 A NASTASIA had that night a singular experience. 
 ** A few times in her life she had heard her father 
 speak of a peculiar dream which at critical epochs in 
 their fortunes visited all of the De Burg family. It 
 varied as to its circumstances, but never as to its con 
 trolling demon, and she had heard this spirit of the 
 dream so vividly and so recently described that she was 
 conscious of a kind of recognition when she saw him. 
 
 For, the week before her miserable wedding, her 
 father met this spirit of his house in that dim frontier 
 of Eternity which we call Dreamland ; and so terrible 
 had been the meeting, that in the cold, gray glimmer 
 which precedes dawning he came to her for company, 
 showing a face as wan as a spectre. And as he flung 
 open the casement and thrust his dark head into the 
 still mysterious day, she had shivered with an unknown
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE. 2?$ 
 
 fear, sympathetic, half divining, yet dumb either for 
 question or for comfort. 
 
 She recalled his imperative knock at her door, his 
 eager request to be admitted, his greed for light and 
 air, the troubled terror in his eyes, the pallor of the 
 unborn day upon the pallor of his face, the long, sad sigh 
 with which he threw himself into the chair, the unnatural 
 voice in which he whispered her name. 
 
 He had said nothing more at the time, but, lost in 
 thought, seemed to be content to feel his daughter's 
 presence, to hear her commonplace observations, and 
 to watch her combing and brushing her long black hair 
 before the mirror. There was something so very mortal 
 and fleshly about Anastasia that he got rid of the super 
 natural as he watched and listened to her ; so that, when 
 the sun touched the horizon, he felt able to fling off the 
 dread and awe which had overwhelmed him. 
 
 She did not name the circumstance at breakfast, but 
 when the meal was over De Burg took her to the ter 
 race, where there was a great sun-dial with a stone seat 
 around it, and he made her sit by his side. In the 
 broad dayshine it was possible to speak of what she 
 ought perhaps to hear. 
 
 " You will see him for yourself some day, Asia. He 
 will come as your friend or your foe. He will make 
 you taste the savour of death in life, or else convey by 
 secretest means the assurance of whatever you desire. 
 Ah, me ! the fear of him comes thundering back, and 
 I am tormented with cruel expectation." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " My father believed him to be Glaive de Burg, who 
 burned the Saxons out of Shoreham and built there a 
 castle whose walls still stand. 'T is said he was partner 
 in all King John's treachery to his brother Richard, and 
 
 18
 
 2/4 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 that Glaive de Burg betrayed both brothers to each 
 other. One day he was arrested for high treason, and 
 he knew his hour had come. As he crossed the court 
 yard of the castle, the mailed guards being on each side 
 of him, he flung the great key of his home backward, and 
 bid his demon ' keep it well until he came again.' He 
 was beheaded within a week, and came no more to 
 Shoreham. But the castle was strangely troubled, and 
 the De Burgs dwelt hardly there until King Henry VIII. 
 gave them this priory. Then they deserted Shoreham, 
 and it fell into decay. But the man with the key grows 
 no older. As my fathers saw him I see him. This 
 morning he presaged great trouble to me. Lowering 
 and black was his face, and his voice full of terror ; and 
 I fear death, Asia, knowing well what powers there be 
 behind it." 
 
 " But he is not al\vays terrible, and I will hope that he 
 may be so far touched by my fidelity to the De Burgs, 
 and by my helplessness against such as would hurt me, 
 as to fight my battles. And surely, if I see him, Father, 
 I will not fear to ask that all evil designed you may be 
 shifted to your enemies." 
 
 And yet when the mysterious adherent did visit her 
 she was conscious only of an intensely personal instruc 
 tion which she could not translate into human language, 
 so personal, indeed, that she was inclined jealously to 
 keep to herself all that she had supernaturally learned. 
 
 From this informed sleep she awakened with a sudden 
 sense of life. It was as if the demon had said : " That 
 is all. Go ! " She opened her eyes wide, there was a 
 moment of blank, then the whole communication flashed 
 upon her mind, and brought with it a feeling of strength 
 and light-heartedness which not even her father's criti 
 cal condition could essentially impair. For if Nathaniel
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 2?$ 
 
 Kelder had gone to Appleby she knew he would do all 
 that was possible for the sick man. " Pious people are a 
 comfort sometimes," she thought, "and Cousin Nat's con 
 science will require him to be extra kind to his enemy." 
 
 She dressed herself with some care, and ate her break 
 fast alone with a very good appetite, Chenage being still 
 in the torpor of alcoholic sleep. Then, as the morning was 
 warm and fine and the west wind brought on it delicious 
 odours from the lavender beds in the lower part of the 
 garden, she asked for scissors and a basket. 
 
 " The heads are full ripe, Gilbert," she said ; " I will 
 go and cut them. When the master is ready for break 
 fast let me know." 
 
 Gilbert watched her a moment going through the 
 garden, and an unusual feeling of pity came into his 
 heart. " She be pretty and good-natured, bless her, 
 and my word but she will catch it anon." Then he went 
 into the kitchen to eat his own meal, and found such 
 sentiments little approved. The women all stood by 
 Master, and the inferior men-servants all had personal 
 reasons for standing by the women. 
 
 But Anastasia was not thinking of their ill-will, though 
 she was quite aware of it. That wondrous man of the 
 dream, and the mystery and promise of his unexplain- 
 able revelation filled her mind with a vague but positive 
 sense of coming triumph over all her enemies. She 
 went straight to the lavender beds and cut the small 
 basket full. As she straightened herself, her eyes met 
 two other eyes. They were looking at her with such an 
 intensity of regard as may have compelled her attention. 
 Before she could move or speak a hand parted the hazel- 
 boughs, a brown hand covered with rings, and then An 
 astasia laughed lowly and went toward the beckoning 
 fingers.
 
 2/6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "Oh, Pastro ! is it you at last?" 
 
 " It is Pastro, my lady. The Captain wants your 
 orders." 
 
 " Go and tell him that I am being slowly killed. 
 Chenage flogs me like a dog." 
 
 "The great devil ! " 
 
 " To-day Chenage goes to Kendal market. Tell Cap 
 tain John to come, ' as from the king,' about one o'clock. 
 I will see him, if I die for it. Pastro, look here ! " and 
 she pushed aside her handkerchief and showed a livid 
 mark across her shoulders. " He did that yesterday. 
 Go and tell Captain John what you have seen, what I 
 say." 
 
 " I will tell, fear not." 
 
 " Remember, one o'clock ! Pray God he kill me not 
 before help comes ! Help will come? " 
 
 He nodded decisively, and the mist of pity in his 
 black, piercing eyes told her that she had a proper 
 messenger. She waited a moment until the rustling 
 among the hazel-bushes ceased, then with her basket 
 of lavender she turned toward the house. In a few 
 moments she saw Gilbert at the open door looking to 
 ward her. Chenage, then, was at breakfast ; and she 
 hasted, lest her delay should add to his usual irritation. 
 
 She was so nervous that she began to sing, a pitiful 
 little murmur, the thinnest echo of her former clear, high 
 trilling; that kind of singing in which trembling souls 
 hide, or try to hide, their crying. Chenage looked at 
 her, and the poor pretence froze upon her lips. How 
 ever, she noticed instantly that he wore the suit in which 
 he usually rode to Kendal, and the circumstance gave 
 her comfort. It was the sign and promise of all she 
 wished. Chenage had dressed himself for his evil 
 destiny.
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE. 
 
 " Well, Mistress, gadding about, as usual." 
 
 " I have been cutting the lavender." 
 
 " Gilbert, fling that high-smelling stuff away ! " 
 
 She let the man take the basket without a word, 
 there was a look in her eyes which maddened Chenage 
 beyond words. 
 
 " Where is the letter you got last night ? " 
 
 She laid it at his side. 
 
 "Old Kelder ! Lies ! Where is Nat Kelder's letter?" 
 
 " I had no letter from Nat Kelder." 
 
 " You had." 
 
 " I had not. You see my father is dying. I want to 
 go to him." 
 
 " You want to go to Nat Kelder. He is in Appleby. 
 You shall not go within a hundred miles of him." 
 
 "What do I care for Nat Kelder? It is my father 
 I " 
 
 " * Ah, me ! I would I had a Puritan lover ! How I 
 should adore one ! How becoming is their dress ! How 
 refined and gentle their manners ! Loving is their only 
 vice, and I vow they love to perfection ! Ah, me ! I 
 would I had a Puritan lover ! ' " So, with black, drawn 
 brows and angry mimicry, he mocked her with the idle 
 words she had taught him. 
 
 " I want to go to my dying father." 
 
 " You want to go to Nat Kelder. You are not going 
 to Appleby now ; no, nor at any other time." 
 
 " Are you above the law ? I have been summoned 
 there ; and I swear I will go to my father." 
 
 " You will go to bed and stay there. When I am in 
 Kendal I shall tell Dr. Kirby to be here to-morrow. 
 Kirby will swear you are ill, or mad, if I tell him to. 
 And, by Heaven ! I will make you mad if you are any 
 saner than suits my purpose."
 
 2/8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 As he spoke he grasped her arm. And he had a cruel 
 grip ; a vise of iron would hardly have pressed her flesh 
 more torturingly. 
 
 " Let me go, Roger, please. You hurt me, you make 
 me sick. Pity pity pity ! " 
 
 To see the colour leave her cheeks and mortal terror 
 leap into her eyes, to see her red lips turn ashy and her 
 eyelids droop and quiver, gave him a fierce joy. The 
 brutal fingers closed tighter : he was mocking her about 
 Nat Kelder, and forgot himself until he suddenly knew 
 that he held a dead weight in that merciless grip. For 
 a moment he was terrified. He called the women, and 
 they loosed her dress and threw cold water over her 
 face ; but with the return of life he experienced an excess 
 of anger against her. She began to sob as consciousness 
 came back, and he sent every one away and sat down 
 beside her. 
 
 " Mistress," he said, " it will be more for your wel 
 fare to listen to me than to cry for yourself. I am 
 going to Kendal. Ask Audrey to show you the room in 
 the garret of which she keeps the key. It has a story, 
 and she may tell it to you. My grandmother, Lady 
 Cecilia Chenage, lived eleven years in that room. There 
 is an iron staple in the wall, and an iron chain and 
 bracelet on the floor. My grandfather kept the key of 
 that bracelet. Lady Chenage was subject to faintings 
 and cryings; she had had many servants as well as 
 my grandfather, and she made his life uncomfortable. 
 She became mad. Do you understand ? Faith, if you 
 do not, you have less sense than will serve your 
 turn." 
 
 Then he went away, leaving the terror-stricken woman 
 dumb with the horror of her situation. She lay still until 
 she heard the clatter of his horse on the paved yard, and
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE. 279 
 
 knew by the whining of the dogs and the clash of the 
 iron gates that he was on the high road to Kendal. 
 
 It was then about ten o'clock, and if John came there 
 were still three hours to be got over. If they should 
 carry her to that dreadful room before John came ! If 
 John should not come ! She tried to think what she 
 must do, and the outlook appalled her. Her father was 
 in prison, perhaps dying ; he could not help her. The 
 Bellinghams had cast her off since that affair of Roger 
 Prideaux. Mistress Cecil, the Le Tails, the Sandersons, 
 the Paleys, none of them had the power, even if they had 
 the will, to help her. The Kelders ? Yes, she believed the 
 Baron would shield her at any risk. But how could she 
 reach him? The servants watched the house by day, the 
 dogs would not spare her by night. It was impossible 
 for her to walk to Kelderby ; under what pretence could 
 she get a carriage, or even a horse, to take her there ? 
 
 In a hopeless and miserable round of revengeful cares 
 and sullen sorrows she passed a couple of hours. Several 
 times Audrey urged her to " go and lie down and get a 
 bit of sleep." But she felt as if nothing could induce 
 her to go upstairs again, unless John's coming should 
 remove the hand of terror. Soon after the noon hour 
 she heard the gallop of a horse and the slow movement 
 of a man leaving his dinner to answer the unexpected 
 visitor. 
 
 She stood breathless, with the door ajar, listening. It 
 was an hour sooner than she expected her brother, but 
 she could understand how hard it would be for John to 
 wait after he received the message sent by Pastro. The 
 imperative knock at the front door was repeated twice 
 before Thomas Hodges reached it. It was a moment 
 of supreme anxiety. She hardly breathed until she 
 heard the voice, John's voice, ask for Chenage. There
 
 280 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 was the slow, expected reply, then some impetuous 
 talking, and Hodges followed by John came into the 
 parlour. He was perfectly disguised in a suit of almost 
 Puritanical gravity. 
 
 The eyes of the brother and sister met. " Madam," 
 said John, " here is the king's seal and authority for my 
 intrusion. As I cannot see your husband, permit me to 
 sit at this table and write my instructions." He spread 
 out a sheet of parchment with a great seal and the signa 
 ture of " Carolus Rex " attached to it. Anastasia played 
 her part perfectly. She called in Gilbert and bid him 
 look at the paper, and Gilbert bowed down to the sign 
 and seal of royalty. In a whispered consultation with 
 Anastasia he thought that the bearer of so august a 
 paper should have all conveniences, and he himself pro 
 posed to spread refreshments for him in the best dining- 
 parlour. 
 
 " I shall have to ask you, Madam, to give me your at 
 tention, as these instructions are in cipher, and must be 
 explained to you." 
 
 With affected reluctance Anastasia remained, and at 
 length the door was shut and she stood alone with her 
 avenger. They wasted no time. She told her story in 
 low, passionate words ; she showed her wounds and her 
 bruises ; she revealed the threat made to her that morn 
 ing, and as she spoke her eyes were full of such mortal 
 terror that John saw in them the bare garret room with its 
 iron chain and bracelet. 
 
 He listened with that quiet fury which intends nothing 
 less than the direst vengeance. His pretty sister who 
 had braved so much for him ! What would he not do 
 for her? As she made her mournful complaint his face 
 grew blacker and blacker, and Anastasia knew that Mas 
 ter Chenage would go mad before she did.
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 28 1 
 
 "What time does Chenage leave Kendal?" 
 
 " Between ten and eleven to-night." 
 
 "Will he have any one with him? " 
 
 " He may have Squire Bevil, but only for two miles. 
 Bevil Hall is about two miles out of Kendal." 
 
 "Will the brute be sober? " 
 
 " So sober as to keep his seat. His horse knows its 
 master and the way home." 
 
 " He will never bring his master home again." 
 
 "Are you going to kill him? " 
 
 " Kill him ? Not yet. Oh, no ! He shall long for 
 death a thousand times more than he ever longed for 
 you. Kill him ? Not until he has paid for every blow 
 he has given you. Oh, I will kill him by inches as he 
 would have killed you in that living grave upstairs. He 
 shall die daily, by hours and minutes." 
 
 " I have not told you all yet. He promised Father 
 ^"200 to go to the king, and then he informed against 
 him. 'Twas his hope that father would be arrested 
 before the money was paid." 
 
 " Oh-h-h ! That accounts for what I saw at De Burg 
 as I passed. Where is Father?" 
 
 " In Appleby common jail." 
 
 He drew his lips tight, and an indefinable sound es 
 caped them. It was the utterance of many feelings, but 
 anger was the predominating one. 
 
 " I can never believe that you will forget this, John." 
 
 " You must needs know better. I shall think on it, 
 and he will pay for it. Ha, ha ! ha, ha ! " Anastasia 
 looking into John's face caught something of the passions 
 which infused and infuriated it. Her glinting eyes had 
 the fire of vengeance in them. Her lips wore the cruel 
 smile of inexorable and pitiless retaliation. 
 
 " Shall I see you again, John ? "
 
 282 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Not at this time. I shall be pleasantly engaged with 
 Master Roger Chenage. But Pastro will bring you a 
 comfortable word. Get ready for Appleby if you wish 
 to go, and trouble your heart no more about a dead 
 man." 
 
 " Chenage is " 
 
 " Chenage was, as far as you are concerned." 
 
 " John, I had the dream last night." 
 
 " Ah ! that is doing business. Was he favourable ? " 
 
 " He touched my wedding-ring, and it fell at my feet 
 broken in two. He made my heart light as a bird on 
 the topmost branch. I have assurances. . If I could find 
 words I might tell you more." 
 
 " You have said enough. I am invincible. My own 
 sister, my only true friend, there are footsteps ! " 
 
 He stood up, kissed her with hearty affection, and then 
 faced the door with a haughty insolence that made Gil 
 bert cringe and tremble before him. 
 
 " There is food and wine in the next room, if it please 
 your lordship your grace your highness to eat 
 and drink." 
 
 " Bring me wax and a candle." 
 
 There were candles and wax in the room, and Anastasia 
 watched with many queer thoughts the old man's trem 
 bling desire to serve. John sealed elaborately a sheet of 
 paper, and gave it to Anastasia with many exact orders 
 for its safe delivery to Chenage. " Keep it in your 
 breast, Madam," he said ; " things of great importance 
 to the king and to the future Earl of Chenage are secured 
 by it." 
 
 Anastasia bowed low, but even in that moment, when 
 her existence was held in suspense and tragical danger, 
 s*he could not avoid giving her brother a glance from be 
 neath her level brows which might have roused a fatal
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 283 
 
 suspicion even in Gilbert's stupid mind if he had not 
 been so lavishly impressed by John's moods and actions 
 that he dared not raise his eyes. And he was further im 
 pressed by the fact that John refused all refreshment, his 
 care being only to get forward on his journey as quickly 
 as possible. 
 
 " Mistress ! Mistress ! " and Gilbert sank his voice 
 to a whisper, " 't is the king himself, I '11 warrant. He 
 be here looking after his own business, and need for 
 him to do so ; and a grander man I never saw. I could 
 fairly have knelt down and kissed his feet." 
 
 Anastasia gladly humoured the idea. She went for a 
 likeness of the exiled monarch, and Gilbert was certain 
 of the identity of the two men. What an event it was for 
 Chenage ! The fact that the whole household was en 
 joined to secrecy gave the news something of the delight 
 ful flavour of stolen fruit. In the kitchen there was a 
 grand feast prepared, and over it the stranger was 
 discussed. 
 
 Even " the mistress " obtained a reflected respect. She 
 was the keeper of a paper which was to make master 
 Earl of Chenage. Gjlbert had heard him say so, and 
 every man-servant and woman-servant had their own 
 hopes in the realization of such dignity. These hopes 
 kept them in delightful conversation and in a constant 
 appetite for something to eat or drink until the night was 
 far advanced. 
 
 Anastasia understood the revolution in feeling, and she 
 smiled complacently. She was no longer in mortal ter 
 ror. She felt that John had succeeded in imparting to 
 her an importance which would secure her safety until he 
 had made her again mistress of her destiny. But she 
 took the precaution to show herself to some one of the 
 household every hour of the day. If there was any sus-
 
 284 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 picion, she was determined to be beyond it. At eleven 
 o'clock she consulted Gilbert about his master's return. 
 She did not " wish to sleep until she was clear of the 
 charge of the paper." Gilbert thought she ought not to 
 do so. He was sure master would be home anon. Thus 
 another hour passed, two, three hours, and the 
 whole household being exhausted with their great ex 
 pectations, it was finally concluded that Master had 
 stayed the night with Squire Bevil. 
 
 "Or he may have met the stranger," said Anastasia, 
 with an air of mystery and subdued enjoyment. 
 
 This suggestion was so excellent that it supplied a new 
 interest to the exhausted theme. The servants resolved 
 to sit another hour, and Anastasia bid them good-night 
 with her sweetest smile. " I think," she said, " we have 
 heard good news to-day, good news both for England 
 and Chenage." The men gave a little cheer. The 
 women dropped courtesies. They looked at her with a 
 far more gracious interest than they had given that night 
 on which she entered Chenage as a bride. They inferred 
 from her parting speech that the king was coming back, 
 and also that she had some surety .of becoming Countess 
 Chenage. And they were all shrewd enough to know 
 that the king's return would restore De Burg to his es 
 tate, and thus give to the future countess a position and 
 a protector which even Chenage would not dare assail. 
 
 All their thoughts and selfish plans were clear to An 
 astasia, and as soon as she was within her room she 
 laughed softly but immoderately at them. She had not 
 been mentally idle, for she was aware that her position 
 was not yet in her own control. She desired most of all 
 things to go to her father, but this step she could not take 
 while her husband's fate was uncertain. She must re 
 main at Chenage until public opinion had come to some
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHENAGE. 285 
 
 decision on the matter. But she felt already the lifting 
 of the incubus. Her flagging spirit, that ever since her 
 marriage had flown under its natural pitch, as if it was a 
 body in a body and not a mounting essence, resumed its 
 old daring, its pushing inquisitiveness concerning wnat- 
 ever affected its happiness. 
 
 As soon as she was alone she threw aside every re 
 straint of mood and clothing. She was too excited to 
 sleep ; her mind was busy with probabilities, and she 
 looked in vain for anything fixed to rest it upon. Un 
 derlying all her thoughts was the thought of her father, 
 All that he had suffered, all that he was suffering, she laid 
 to the charge of Chenage. He had denied this treach 
 ery, denied upon his honour, but Anastasia believed 
 him not; and the contemplation of her dying father 
 made her contemplate the probable condition of Chenage 
 with satisfaction. 
 
 She recalled one by one his various acts of petty 
 tyranny ; she looked again at the marks which his cruel 
 fingers had left ; she shuddered at the threat which led 
 her memory to that chamber of wrong and misery which 
 might have become her grave. The thought of the poor 
 lady who perished there filled her eyes with tears. The 
 thought of Audrey, who had probably assisted at that 
 burial of the living, filled her with horror and with strange 
 dreams of retribution. 
 
 She heard the clock strike three, and she stood up to 
 listen to each reverberation. John had told her that at 
 three o'clock the tide would serve his purpose, and Roger 
 Chenage would begin in reality his voyage to eternity. 
 John's last words to her had been, " At three o'clock he 
 will be dead to you." Three had struck. She was free. 
 She took a long breath ; she stretched outward and up 
 ward her arms. She felt no motion of pity. She asked
 
 286 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 herself why she should pity him. " He never knew pity 
 for any one, not even for the poor lady who could hardly 
 have wronged him in any way. 
 
 " Whatever John does to him, he deserves it ; I swear 
 he does. I hope John will tell him that I planned the 
 whole affair. I do not think that he will sleep much 
 to-night ; and on whom will he spend his temper to 
 morrow morning? Not on me. Will he try it on 
 John ? Ha, ha ! his courage flies not so high. A weak 
 woman, whom the law had tied hands and feet ready 
 for him, makes the pastime he prefers. I wonder if by 
 this time John has cut my bonds. I think he has ; I 
 believe it. I am free free free free!" She 
 dropped suddenly asleep with the word parting her lips. 
 
 She was awakened by a loud and imperative knock 
 at her chamber door, and the sound of a human voice 
 full of wonder and fear. " Mistress, Mistress ! open, 
 an it please you, Mistress ; such a thing has happened ! 
 We don't know what to make of such a thing." 
 
 "What is the matter, Nan?" 
 
 " We don't know what, Mistress. The master's horse 
 is come home alone. Master is n't on him. A thing 
 like that never happened before. It has given us all 
 such a feel, you can't think, Mistress." 
 
 In her white night garment and her bare feet she 
 stood looking at the woman. Her long black hair fell 
 around her face and shoulders, and she lifted her hands 
 and pushed the froward curls behind her ears. In the 
 respite this action gave her, she tried to decide upon 
 the proper rdle to play. 
 
 " Mercy on us, Nan ! Send Gilbert to me at once ! " 
 
 Unconsciously she spoke in her old imperative man 
 ner; and the woman resented its assumption, even in 
 the midst of her excitement.
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE 287 
 
 " Gilbert, you are to go to the mistress, and to go 
 to her at once. She is in a very high way this morning. 
 I don't know what to make of her. I walked myself 
 off middling quick." 
 
 After such a message Gilbert thought his honour de 
 manded an extra delay ; and before he had made up 
 his mind to go to Anastasia, she had hurriedly dressed 
 herself and was with him. Suddenly she opened the 
 great oak door which shut off the kitchen, and stood 
 gazing at its occupants from the topmost of the short 
 flight of steps by which it was reached. The gloom and 
 shadow of the long passage was behind her ; the morning 
 light from the wide kitchen windows shone in her face, 
 and turned the Indian calico she wore into a garment 
 of strange beauty and brilliancy ; for its " pines " full 
 of gorgeous colouring caught the August sunshine, and 
 made around her a haze of glowing reflections. 
 
 Gilbert ! " 
 
 Gilbert turned and looked at his mistress, and in that 
 first glance abandoned all his dreams of authority over 
 her. Anastasia had regained herself. Her beauty was 
 a thing to wonder at, Not a servant of them had ever 
 before seen her face as they saw it then, with the eyes 
 flashing fire and the cheeks blazing like carnations, and 
 the long curling veil of her dark hair flung backward in 
 that studied confusion which permitted some of the 
 locks to stray over the milky whiteness of her throat 
 and bosom. 
 
 " Gilbert ! what have you done ? Who has been sent 
 to Kendal?" 
 
 " I have been that moidered, Mistress, I have had 
 no thoughts about me. I would give a matter of twenty 
 shillings to know what to do." 
 
 "This is your affection for your master, is it? A
 
 288 FRIEND OLIVIA, 
 
 pretty crowd of sniffling, sneaking varlets he has been 
 feeding and pampering ! Every man-jack of you ought 
 to have been on the search ere this. Come, sir, take 
 horse and go to Baron Le Tail's, and raise the cry there. 
 Thomas, you make haste to Squire Bevil's. Jekyl, you 
 ride post-haste to Kendal, rouse the constables and the 
 justices, and see to their getting out a hue and cry. 
 The master had gold on him ; I tell you he had gold on 
 him, and plenty of it. All of you knew that. Pray God 
 all of you know not more than you ought to know about 
 this delay and the reason of it. I am suspicious of you ; 
 before God, I am suspicious of you all ! A bad lot the 
 master pampered ; I always told him so. Guzzling and 
 planning, instead of calling me and hurrying on the 
 search yourselves. You have let hours go by without 
 one word or effort. It looks evil ; it looks scandalously 
 evil!" 
 
 " Mistress, these are strange words." 
 
 " True words, Audrey ; only too true ! If you are 
 indeed innocent, make shift to reach Farmer Gates, and 
 what you cannot do he can. Jess, you foot it over the 
 moor to the head-shepherd. Nan, you take the high 
 road, and turn hither the first man, you see, gentle or 
 simple." 
 
 " Mistress, I am little able to ride." 
 
 " Make shift to do so, Gilbert. You will ride, per 
 haps, to the saving of your own life ; for I swear by my 
 conscience I trust none of you ! Too much delay ! Such 
 a good master ! Such an idle pack of ingrates around 
 him ! " 
 
 Her passion was so well assumed that it carried all 
 resistance before it. The younger servants, white and 
 terrified, hasted to do her bidding. Audrey and Gilbert 
 had not the moral courage to keep their own ground.
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 289 
 
 In fifteen minutes she had the house to herself, and 
 then she hastily sought the spot where Pastro had met 
 her on the previous day. There it was most likely he 
 would be waiting for her again. Her supposition was 
 correct. When she reached the lavender beds, the 
 brown hand parted the hazel-boughs, and the large 
 brown face with its gold-ringed ears gleamed for a mo 
 ment amid the green leaves. 
 
 "Pastro?" 
 
 " Here, my Lady." 
 
 "What news?" 
 
 "All is well done." 
 
 "You got him?" 
 
 " Safe." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " The Devil or Captain John knows. He is between 
 them and the deep sea." 
 
 " Where did you get him? " 
 
 "Two miles out of Kendal." 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 " At eleven last night. He was in drink." 
 
 " How was it done ? " 
 
 " We were three. One stopped his horse. One 
 felled him. Captain John gagged him. I had bor 
 rowed after dark the horse and cart of a fisher who was 
 out with his lines. We laid the brute at the bottom of 
 it. I and my mate went with the cart. Captain John 
 rode the horse of Chenage to the sea-shore. We reached 
 it about one o'clock. All was quiet. Our boat was 
 waiting. We tossed him into it, struggling like a caught 
 conger, and just as dumb. I saw him put on board." 
 
 "Then?" 
 
 " I took back the horse and cart. The fisher's wife 
 heard me. I told her a bit of smuggling had been done, 
 
 19
 
 290 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and gave her a gold piece. She nodded very sensibly. 
 Then I rode the horse nearly back to Chenage, and 
 turned him loose. He did his part well also. I have 
 waited here for you." 
 
 " Pastro, Pastro ! how can I thank you? " 
 
 " For Captain John I would cut off my hands. To 
 help a fair-lady out of trouble is thanks by itself. I am 
 paid." 
 
 " You are a fine gentleman ; I swear there are few as 
 fine ! Where go you now? " 
 
 "To the sea-shore. The farmers stare at me. By 
 the sea I am with my kind. For three days the Captain 
 will keep in deep water ; on the last night I shall meet 
 him by Barrow and get aboard again." 
 
 " Then you will see Chenage ? " 
 
 " Yes ; " and he nodded with the syllable most ex 
 pressively. 
 
 " Will you have wine or meat ? I have time to bring 
 them." 
 
 " They will be a great gift to me." 
 
 So she hasted back to the house, and took from the 
 buffet a bottle of wine and some meat and bread. As 
 she passed through the hall she stood a moment, and 
 lifted a riding-whip which lay upon a table with Che- 
 nage's hunting-cap and gaiters. A bright but vindictive 
 smile widened her mouth as she did so ; and after she 
 had given Pastro his food she said, 
 
 " When you see Roger Chenage, give him this whip, 
 and tell him ' to take patience ' with it. That was com 
 monly his word when he used it on me, ' Take pa 
 tience, Mistress.' Deliver as much to him, and say with 
 it that I think of him hourly, and find in the thought 
 a very reasonable happiness." 
 
 Then Pastro wrapped the long lash round the leathern
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 29 1 
 
 handle, laughing low as he did so ; for he was thinking 
 within himself what a delightful, devilish thing it would 
 be in Captain John's hand. 
 
 She stopped on her return to the house and gathered 
 a handful of lavender. She put her face in its hot per 
 fume, and then fastened the purple heads in her girdle. 
 She did not hurry, and she found plenty of time to eat 
 a refreshing breakfast before there was any answer to 
 the many calls for help she had sent out. 
 
 Le Tall came first. She did not think it necessary to 
 affect any great show of grief to him. He knew that 
 Chenage treated his wife brutally ; he knew it, though 
 Anastasia never said so. As a friend of both De Burg 
 and Chenage, he assumed the duty of directing the 
 search for the missing squire. As a magistrate, he 
 made the servants miserable ; for he evidently regarded 
 Anastasia's suspicions of them as not altogether im 
 probable. They durst not leave their service, and it 
 was now Anastasia's pleasure to render it a very hard 
 one. 
 
 Revenge made her a most economical housekeeper. 
 Comfortable meals and confidential chats might have 
 done much to help their anxiety ; but she kept them 
 on bare rations and at constant and divided service. 
 " Every piece of money was needed for the search ; " 
 and whenever she found two of them together, she 
 accused them of making plots to hide their crime, and 
 hinted at the necessity of securing them behind bolts 
 and bars. 
 
 For many days Chenage Grange was busy with comers 
 and goers. Two generations had not seen the old gray 
 house so apparently gay. Constables, magistrates, friends, 
 and curious people of all kinds found business there. 
 Every one was received by Anastasia. She listened to
 
 292 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 their suggestions. She wept where she knew weeping 
 would be effective. She smiled radiantly through her 
 tears where it was best to dazzle. She let no one go 
 away without eating or drinking. She earned the good 
 will or the admiration of all who approached her. 
 
 Of course the strange visitor of the previous day be 
 came the prime subject for suspicion and inquiry. The 
 paper given to Anastasia was solemnly opened in the 
 presence of two magistrates and found blank. At 
 that day this was not a remarkable circumstance. The 
 king had probably an understanding with Chenage as 
 to what a blank message would mean. Or, what was 
 more likely, the paper might contain information which 
 could only be made visible by the use of some secret 
 preparation. 
 
 Gilbert described the man according to his own won 
 derful opinions and suspicions. Anastasia, in clever but 
 guarded speech, contrived to represent a person as 
 utterly dissimilar to John de Burg as it was possible to 
 be. And when nothing could be learned of Chenage, 
 and every trace of the man beyond Bevil gates vanished, 
 popular opinion settled itself upon the surmise that 
 Chenage had met this stranger, that he was really the 
 king or some one very close to the king, and that 
 Chenage had considered it best for his Majesty's in 
 terests, or his own interests, to go away, secretly and at 
 once, upon some important political errand. 
 
 " He will return as unexpectedly and suddenly as he 
 went away," said the greater part of the friends of 
 Roger Chenage. Le Tall did not echo this opinion. 
 He had heard from Anastasia during these days the full 
 story of her sufferings and her husband's wickedness, 
 and Le Tall was a superstitious man. 
 
 " The Devil has taken him," he said with a gloomy
 
 JOHN RECKONS WITH CHEN AGE. 293 
 
 terror. " He has gone down into hell while he was yet 
 quick." 
 
 And Anastasia answered him not a word. But there 
 was such a strange intelligence in her gleaming eyes, in 
 her parted lips, in her white fingers upon them, that he 
 mentally added, " And you know it ! "
 
 XV. 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 
 
 " But if one righteously hath borne the rod 
 The angels kiss those lips which spake for God." 
 
 " Send thy silver on before, tending to his sick and poor. 
 Every dirhem dropped in alms touches Allah's open palms 
 Ere it fall into the hands of thy brother. Allah stands 
 Begging of thee when thy brother asketh help." 
 
 " Men are more sensitive to contemptuous language than unjust acts ; 
 for it is harder to bear insult than wrong." 
 
 / T V HE little party of relief from Sandys had left home 
 * in the sunshine, but it was raining heavily when 
 they entered Appleby, that warm, misty summer rain 
 which seems so unreasonable and is so depressing. It 
 was too late to visit the jail that night, and they were all 
 weary enough to be grateful for the rest and refreshment 
 of the comfortable hostelry near it. 
 
 In the morning it was still raining, and Olivia looked 
 mournfully into the wet street. Not far away she could 
 see a low stone building with iron gratings across its 
 small apertures, and she knew instinctively that it was 
 the jail. Unflinchingly she looked at it, in her serious 
 eyes the vague, sad speculation with which we approach 
 the unknown factors of our destiny. Nathaniel stood 
 silently beside her. They were waiting breakfast, for 
 Hannah Mettelane was trying to get into her hands in 
 orderly fashion the new circumstances out of which she 
 was to make daily life.
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL, 295 
 
 " And I '11 tell you what, children," she said, " if you 
 are set, both of you, on going into that place, it will be a 
 deal better for me to stay out of danger. If we should 
 all be sick together, who is to nurse the sick? Every 
 soldier cannot go to the battlefield ; some one must be 
 left in camp." 
 
 Black and miserable in the rainy morning looked the 
 iron-grated jail. And its interior was crushing. For 
 there is always some incubus of horror and sadness in 
 the air of a place where men have suffered for genera 
 tions, just as in old churches where men have prayed for 
 generations the presence of the supernatural is almost 
 palpable. An interview with the jailer was the first 
 necessity, for in that day this functionary was an auto 
 crat, responsible to none, guided only by his own pas 
 sions, prejudice, or interest. 
 
 He was found to be a very moderate fellow, hiding 
 beneath his Puritanical garb and address a strong liking 
 for the king in exile. Toward De Burg and Prideaux, 
 who were in prison for their presumed sympathy with 
 the king, he had a favourable feeling, and had willingly 
 permitted them such comforts as they were ready to 
 pay for. 
 
 " But you see, Master," said he to Nathaniel, " I do 
 rent this place of the town, and hard work it be to make 
 my rent and living out of such as are sent here being 
 mostly Quakers, who are a stubborn lot, and though 
 many of them rich, standing on the unlawfulness of 
 their imprisonment, and dying rather than paying their 
 dues." 
 
 He was taking his keys from his leather belt as he 
 spoke, and Olivia and Nathaniel followed him without 
 further remark. The opening of a door introduced 
 them to the upper prison. It was a large room, used
 
 296 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 for the women prisoners and for light offenders, and 
 though foul and close beyond words and but dimly 
 lighted by the open grates, still immeasurably more 
 comfortable than the lower one, into which they de 
 scended by a trap in the floor and a steep, ladder-like 
 stair. 
 
 In this dungeon, which was below the street, there 
 were only three small gratings in front ; the back j)art of 
 the room remained in perpetual chill and shadow. The 
 common sewer of the town ran through it ; the air was 
 full of noxious gases ; frogs and toads and crawling 
 things had there a constant dwelling-place. It was 
 always cold ; its stone seats were wet and slimy, and 
 into it the blessed sunshine never came ; only a dim 
 light, shorn of all its warmth and glory, crept timidly in 
 for a few yards, and was then quenched in the heavy 
 miasma of the place. 
 
 Nathaniel ejaculated in a passionate whisper the great, 
 compassionate name of " God ! " Olivia stood still and 
 looked with widening eyes around her. A Friend with 
 placid face near one of the gratings was braiding shoe 
 laces and dreaming of heaven. Another Friend was 
 drawing through the bars a loaf of bread which a sym 
 pathizer had brought him. A third sat backward in the 
 gloom. Two men waiting trial for murder were quar 
 relling over a pot of beer near him, and a highwayman by 
 his side was spitting out curses at the gibbet and chains 
 he foresaw for himself. But the Quaker in the midst of 
 them heard them not. Distrammelled of earth, he had 
 retired into the inmost inmost of the soul, where neither 
 man nor angels but only God cometh. He was in an 
 ecstasy. In that divine depth his soul had recovered 
 her wings, and on the six pinions of contemplation 
 found out that third heaven where there is a dividing
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 297 
 
 asunder of soul and spirit by the sword of the Lord, and 
 the spirit is joined to the Lord. 1 
 
 There were two cell-like rooms cut off from this larger 
 one, and Prideaux and De Burg occupied them. Na 
 thaniel went at once to his cousin. Olivia was speedily 
 in her father's arms. He had not dreamed of her 
 coining; she was like the vision of an angel to him. 
 And he was so worn-out, so near the point of exhaustion, 
 that he covered his face with his hands and wept. But 
 there are few situations so bad that money will not 
 ameliorate them. A kind of stiff-necked carelessness 
 had prevented Prideaux from buying comforts of which 
 he had been unjustly deprived, but Olivia felt no 
 such restraint. The jailer brought, at her order, plenty 
 of fresh straw, and spread it for Roger in a corner of the 
 larger room, and he lay down upon it gratefully and fell 
 into a sleep which every prisoner respected. And Asa 
 put his burning hands in Olivia's with a sweet content. 
 
 " It has been my prayer to see thee once more," he 
 whispered. " And thou needst not fear, for no harm 
 shall come to thee, God's love so walls thee round 
 about." 
 
 "What shall I do for thee, Asa? " 
 
 " Stand faithful to thy God and bear thy testimony 
 bravely. Let not thy love ever come before thy duty. 
 In due time love will be blessed by duty. Thy father 
 hath changed much. His heart is on fire. He hath a 
 zeal beyond his strength. Leave him not till thou canst 
 leave him wisely. Be a good girl, and God will make 
 thee happy. Thou canst trust him? " 
 
 " From the beginning to the end." 
 
 All there was left of mortal life seemed to have fled to 
 Asa's eyes. They had an ardent, longing gaze, as if his 
 
 1 He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit. i Cor. vi. 17.
 
 298 FRIEND OLIVIA, 
 
 soul was watching through them for the angel bringing 
 his release. 
 
 " Be a good girl, and God will make thee happy." 
 He said the words again, and fell into a sleepy stupor 
 from which he did not rouse himself until sunset. Then 
 he touched Roger and said, 
 
 " I have heard with my inward ear the voice of God. 
 I am come to the day which shall judge all my days. 
 Wash my hands, Roger, and my face, and put on me 
 clean linen, and then I will lie down and wait for my 
 change." It was the last intelligent act of a noble 
 death-bed. Calmly and steadily through a week of 
 great suffering he had been going down to the grave, 
 with a certain solemn pomp of conscious grandeur, as 
 one who knew himself victorious over it. 
 
 So Roger washed and dressed Asa for his burial. He 
 became rapidly worse. Though he had semi-lucid inter 
 vals during the next twenty-four hours ; though his inner 
 man mounted higher and higher, his outward man hourly 
 wasted, and drew toward its place and centre. During 
 this last remnant of conscious life he spoke but five 
 times, and each effort appeared to be made from a dis 
 tance farther and farther away from earth : 
 
 " Here I have been very close to Him, but now I 
 escape to the courts of heaven, where I shall see him 
 face to face." 
 
 " Rest in the Lord ! Rest ! Rest ! and again rest ! " 
 
 " The river is very low and calm ; he that is washed 
 needeth only to wash his feet ! " 
 
 " Light ! Light ! A tide of glory ! " 
 
 " Felicia ! " 
 
 Felicia was his wife's name. She had left earth more 
 than forty years before. 
 
 " Felicia ! " It was the last effort of mortal speech,
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 299 
 
 though he lay in a deathlike stupor for more than thre^ 
 days afterward. Why was not his earthly tabernacle 
 dissolved without this pause? For what was he waiting? 
 For whom was he waiting? Neither of this nor of that 
 world ; it was evident that he was so far beyond mor 
 tality as to 
 
 " Feel through all his fleshly dresse 
 Bright shootes of everlastingnesse." 
 
 Olivia watched him constantly, but at midnight of the 
 fourth day the watch was over ; the act of death was ac 
 complished. It was a dark sultry night, with no light of 
 moon or stars. The rain plashed heavily on the pave 
 ment outside ; the rush candle in the heavy air of the cell 
 burned very dimly. Nathaniel and Olivia knelt together 
 on the damp straw of the dying man's bed ; Roger clasped 
 his hands and repeated in a low, intense voice Paul's tri 
 umphant defiance of death. The three Friends in prison 
 sat in silent prayer at a little distance. There was a 
 calm beyond the calm of earth, and the faint stir and 
 mutterings of the restless prisoners in the larger room 
 touched not the peace of this place of death. At the 
 last moment a heavenly radiance transfigured the face of 
 the dying man. It was the light of the rising, not of the 
 setting, life. Out of bonds and darkness through the con 
 stellations ! Was there any wonder that the rapture of 
 that release glorified the moment of death? 
 
 The night of Asa's death was the crisis of De Burg's 
 illness. Nathaniel had dared to leave him only for the 
 few sacred moments of the great mystery. Immediately 
 after it De Burg recovered that consciousness he had lost 
 for many days. During that sojourning at the mouth of 
 the grave he had been constantly to his own soul mutter 
 ing his crimes. But it was a confession without repent-
 
 3OO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 ance and without promise. He came back to life insolent 
 with that hate and anger whose fever had already burnt 
 him to ashes and left him without power to give it the 
 graphic utterance he had been accustomed to. The 
 sight of Nathaniel almost convulsed him with abortive 
 rage, and it was evident that his presence would no 
 longer be serviceable. 
 
 The jailer's wife had given a bed to Olivia, and the 
 weary girl was sleeping. Prideaux sat beside his dead 
 servant lost in a revery which Nathaniel could not dis 
 turb. He awoke one of the Friends in the prison and 
 left De Burg in his charge. Then he went to one of the 
 gratings, and standing by it, waited for the morning. The 
 rain was over, but there was a wrack of clouds driving on 
 the wind ; all the stars were muffled, and the little town 
 was so deeply hushed in sleep that the wailing of a sick 
 child a little distance off seemed to fill the street with a 
 portentous and sorrow-laden sound. 
 
 An influence he could not escape was around him ; and 
 as the dawn came dimly and showed him the white faces 
 turned heavenward in their sleep, he comprehended the 
 divine pity of Christ. And he stood among those pris 
 oners of sorrow and sin with prayers and tears, bringing 
 each separate soul, as he understood it, to the heart of 
 infinite pity. Thus in the night when there are no or 
 dained priests in the temples, God has priests consecrated 
 without imposition of hands. Clouds of darkness were in 
 the sacred aisles and over the altars of every church in 
 England, but still priests ministered before the Lord. 
 The Friend watching by De Burg was praying. Prideaux, 
 sitting by " his servant departed this life in hope," was 
 praising God for him. Nathaniel standing in the prison- 
 house lifted up his hands and with holy intercession min 
 istered before God. Everywhere souls were awake with
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL, 301 
 
 sorrow or with pain and were serving, each soul in its 
 course, before the Lord. " For these are they to whom 
 the night-watch is appointed." 
 
 As soon as the jailer was awake Nathaniel left the 
 prison. He found at the inn a messenger from Kel- 
 dsrby with letters from the baron and Lady Kelder. 
 The baron informed him that George Sanderson of Pen- 
 rith wanted to borrow one hundred pieces of gold on 
 mortgage, and he requested Nathaniel to accompany to 
 Penrith the lawyer who had the money in charge and ex 
 amine the security given, " if it was within his duty to De 
 Burg to leave him for so long." Lady Kelder wrote more 
 explicitly : 
 
 SON NATHANIEL, My cousin Annie's husband is in 
 trouble through tampering with politics, a thing no decent 
 man can do and keep out of trouble ; and if your affections are 
 not totally and sheerly given to those Quakers, 't will be a ser 
 vice to me, your mother, if you convey the gold with some 
 words of sympathy and good-will in your own person. 'T is 
 not to be hoped that you will return to Kelderby until after the 
 assize, yet I pray you to remember that you may have some 
 indebtedness to your father and myself. Your father hath a 
 failing sickness, I fear, and I, but it is little matter on that 
 subject to complain. But I pray you to care a little for your 
 own body's welfare, seeing that the soul is very useless with 
 out the body on this earth ; for I do assure you that good 
 health is the soul's good fortune. And though a man so far 
 gone in love may not believe it, good health is the very salt 
 of life. My son, I long to see you, and so abide your loving 
 mother, 
 
 JOAN KELDER. 
 
 To the duty nearest to us ! Wise and good men have 
 obeyed that dictum long before Carlyle voiced it. To go 
 to Penrith was Nathaniel's most evident duty, and he 
 went. And Olivia was not sorry to be rid for a while of
 
 302 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Love's fearing importunities. She perceived that a great 
 " opportunity " had been given her, and she desired to 
 accept it gladly, without fear and without restraint ; but 
 Nathaniel's constant cautions and anxieties clouded her 
 enthusiasm, and really hindered her usefulness. So it is 
 that even in love a part is sometimes better than the 
 whole. 
 
 The two weeks that followed were weeks of great 
 though subdued excitement. Roger's heart was in a 
 flame ; he forgot everything in the great strait of obliga 
 tion which he felt toward his fellow-prisoners. He was 
 an evangelist filled with his own evangel. The power and 
 fervour of the Indwelling Light burned within him, and 
 kindled every soul that he approached ; for men catch 
 doctrines by actual contact, by heart acting upon heart, 
 not by reasoning and written arguments. And to these 
 men and women in prison, sinking through long, hard 
 pressure of obscure distresses, or buffets of outrageous 
 fortune, or bonds of actual crime, the gospel Roger 
 preached was the Gospel of a great Deliverance ; and 
 none of them quite escaped the almost miraculous in 
 fluence of his burning words. 
 
 Olivia's power was equally deep, though less marked. 
 She spent the long hot days among the women prisoners. 
 There were nursing babies with them, and the mother 
 of one was shivering and burning with an ague. What 
 could Olivia do but take the wasted little atom and 
 nurse it in her own arms? She listened to all these 
 poor creatures' sorrows. She taught them several small 
 arts by which they could earn a trifle of money. She 
 brought them the good food which Hannah Mettelane 
 prepared. She gave gold freely where gold could give 
 liberty. She filled the hours t>f her voluntary confine 
 ment with deeds whose loving unselfishness touched even
 
 IN APPLES Y JAIL. 303 
 
 the rough hearts of the jailer and his wife to a far-off 
 imitation of them. 
 
 Nor did she forget De Burg. He had no conscious 
 remembrance of her, and the quiet girl in her duffle 
 gray gown who washed his hands and face in sweet 
 waters, who brought him jellies and broths and the 
 delicate food he longed f jr, evoked no particular specu 
 lation in his mind. He had indeed a double portion of 
 the selfishness of the convalescent, he was served and 
 comforted, and the fact was for many days sufficient for 
 him. 
 
 But one afternoon, when he was so much stronger as 
 to be lifted into a chair near the grating, he did begin to 
 wonder vaguely who the girl might be. In two more 
 days he had progressed so far as to reflect that the men 
 who lifted and dressed him were evidently Quakers, and 
 then it was easy enough to infer that Olivia also was in 
 prison for her faith. He called to mind in a rambling 
 way the number of wealthy and refined women who had 
 been thrown into jails for not going to church, or for 
 talking to small congregations in their own houses, and 
 he speedily decided that his nurse was one in the same 
 case. Then some convincing thought connected her 
 with the Quaker Prideaux, whom he had himself helped 
 into Appleby prison. A strange suspicion followed, and 
 he was about to trace it to confirmation when the door 
 was softly opened and his own daughter stood upon the 
 threshold. She glanced at her father, and instantly 
 comprehending his ability to receive her, fell at his feet 
 with a glad cry. She put her arms around his neck and 
 drew his wasted face down to her own and covered it 
 with tears and kisses. 
 
 " Asia ! Asia ! Why came you not before ? " 
 
 " 'T was the fault of that hound Chenage. But he
 
 304 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 will never come between u$ again, my father. Never 
 again ! " 
 
 "What mean you? Is he dead? " 
 
 " He is gone." 
 
 "Gone? But where?" 
 
 She looked him steadily in the eyes. " I know not, 
 and I care not. He treated me like a servant, and he 
 flogged me like a dog." 
 
 " Flogged you .' He flogged you ! A thousand hells ! " 
 And his parchment-like skin, wrinkled with the waste of 
 sickness, glowed as if there was a flaming fire beneath it. 
 
 " He put you here also, and by God's day ! I would 
 I had him here under my own hand and foot." 
 
 " Gone ! Gone ! Where hath he gone ? Speak, 
 Asia ! " 
 
 " Le Tall saith that the Devil hath him, and faith ! I 
 am sure Le Tall has guessed to a miracle." 
 
 " I am too weak to guess your riddle. In plain words, 
 what mean you? " 
 
 "The day he disappeared a stranger came to Chenage, 
 and he asked me many things about him. I kept noth 
 ing back ; I showed him the bruises on my arms and 
 bosom. He made my wrongs his, as he had a right to 
 do. Chenage went to Kendal market that day, and he 
 never came home." 
 
 "Kidnapped?" 
 
 "The man said he came on the 'king's business,' and 
 the general report is that Chenage went with him on the 
 same, and will return as unexpectedly as he left." 
 
 "Think you that? " 
 
 "When to-morrow comes back again I shall begin to 
 tremble." 
 
 She had grown suddenly gloomy, and De Burg looked 
 uneasily at her. " You must know, dear father, I could
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 305 
 
 not come here earlier; for there was a blaze about 
 the affair, and for my own safety I sat still where I 
 was, in the sight of all. But when the nearness of 
 your trial gave me excuse, I grudged every moment of 
 delay." 
 
 " I have been in the grip of death, Asia." 
 
 " Baron Kelder wrote me of your illness, and also of 
 Nat Kelder coming to you. Nat hath a conscience, and 
 I knew he would be good to you for the contradiction of 
 the thing." 
 
 " 'T was but one of many humiliations. I know well 
 that out of Prideaux's pocket have come many things of 
 prime importance to me, drugs and the like. Also I 
 have been nursed by Prideaux's daughter, or else I have 
 dreamt it. 'T is hard to stomach such favours." 
 
 " Faith ! 't is very easy, if you look at it in the right 
 way. Let Prideaux pay for your drugs. Let Na 
 thaniel give you comforts and service. Let Saint Olivia 
 mend your laces and linens, and make you soups and 
 jellies. Too much honour for the lot of them ! Noth 
 ing is more comfortable to me than to reflect on the 
 good things I get out of them that hate me." She 
 spread her velvet skirts, and looked down at the jewelled 
 clasps of her shoes and up at her embroidered gloves, 
 and then removed the beaver hat she wore and shook 
 out its white plumes. And as she did so she said, with 
 a toss of her haughty head, 
 
 " Chenage paid for these braveries, that is one point 
 in their favour. I can see him hugging his purse and 
 counting out the gold pieces one by one, as if they were 
 drops of his heart's blood. I tread upon him every 
 time I buckle my shoes. I wish I could send him word 
 how gladly I wear the velvets whose cost he counted so 
 grudgingly. Faith ! these white plumes in my hat he 
 
 20
 
 306 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 bought for his own beaver, and being of the primest 
 quality, I make myself welcome to them. Odsbodkins ! 
 What are your enemies for but to serve you? Have 
 you forgotten, Father, that the assize begins in two days, 
 and that even if your trial is put off until the last there is 
 but little time to prepare for it?" 
 
 " I have been unable to think of it. You must see a 
 lawyer for me." 
 
 " I will do better than that. I will see the two judges ; 
 Lord Cecil is one of them, and I have so worked on 
 Mistress Cecil as to get a grace-letter from her to him. 
 As for Lord Button, the other, he never yet could resist 
 the * I pray you ' of a pretty woman. I shall make sure 
 of your verdict ere they try your case. Keep your heart 
 at full ease." 
 
 The conversation then turned upon Chenage and her 
 married life ; and though nothing definite was told De 
 Burg, he had a very clear intelligence as to his son-in- 
 law's fate. In his heart he thought it very good news ; 
 and good news is a cordial tinctured with the elixir of 
 life. Before Anastasia left him he was sitting straighter, 
 and holding his head with something of its old domi 
 neering poise, as he drank in his daughter's promises 
 and hopes for the future. 
 
 She put a full purse into his hand as she went away. 
 " Chenage's gold," she said with a merry laugh. " I 
 hope he remembers how much he saved for you and for 
 me. When the king comes to Whitehall, dear father, 
 faith ! we will carry it with the highest there." 
 
 She was in a royal humour, and as she passed through 
 the prison rooms she left some of her smiles and gold 
 among their wretched inmates. They talked about her 
 as if she was some creature of different clay ; and when 
 they wearied of their speculations they sat pondering
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 307 
 
 gloomily, each in his own heart, the different darkness 
 in which we have our mortal birth. 
 
 The next day she came early to the prison. It was a 
 wet day, and it angered her, for she was a woman made 
 for the sunshine. As imprudent as she was impulsive, 
 she took no pains to preserve the good-will it had 
 pleased her to buy on the previous day. She spoke per 
 emptorily to the jailer, and manifested without restraint 
 her contempt and loathing for the situation in which she 
 found herself. 
 
 As -her eyes pierced the gloomy room their sullen stare 
 suddenly turned to one of passionate anger. Olivia was 
 walking in the more quiet space at the end of the room, 
 and she had a babe in her arms. Its white puny face 
 lay against her bosom, and she was softly singing it to 
 sleep. Anastasia stood still a moment and looked at her. 
 The gray dress, the square of white lawn folded across 
 her breast, the placid face, irritated her beyond control. 
 She remembered at the moment what her father had 
 said of the care given him by the Prideaux, and it struck 
 her only as a piece of impertinent interference with a 
 life too weak to resent it. She walked straight to Olivia. 
 
 "Your servant, Mistress Prideaux. I take credit to 
 myself for my forethought in sending you here. 'T was 
 for my father's sake I did it, and sure the motive will be 
 excuse enough for the deed. But faith ! I have no taste 
 for your further company." She made a scornful cour 
 tesy with the words, drawing down her handsome brows 
 in a black frown. 
 
 " Thou sent me not. I came here for the lov of 
 God, and out of charity for thy father's desolate 
 condition." 
 
 " Then pray make your charity a large claim on the 
 Almighty. Faith ! I hope he may be so good as to
 
 308 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 pay you, for I vow I have not a fair word or a gold piece 
 for you." 
 
 " Thou art freely welcome for God's sake." 
 
 " Where is Nat Kelder ? 'T is said you were in Lon 
 don in his company, and that you found the excuse of 
 your father to follow him to Appleby. Fie ! fie ! I 
 would you had more modesty or more pride." 
 
 Olivia answered her not. She still continued her walk, 
 but she had ceased singing, and her cheeks were flaming 
 with indignation. 
 
 " Answer me, Mistress." 
 
 Then the sick woman turned and looked at Anastasia, 
 and a virago called Moll Bassing went close to her, and 
 putting her hands upon her hips, defied her by the dumb 
 provocation of a face shoved in closest proximity. 
 
 " Off, you pestilent creature ! " 
 
 " Off thyself ! Or if thou be so fain for a fight, look 'ee 
 here ! " And she bared her brawny arms, and doubled 
 her huge red fists in Anastasia's face. 
 
 " Moll, be quiet. Thou knowest well that nothing 
 can harm me." 
 
 " A God's-blessing on thee, Mistress ! 'T would be a 
 hard death for any who tried to harm thee here." Then 
 addressing Anastasia : " Now, Mistress Penny- Pride 
 be off ! Go thy ill ways. This room is for better folks 
 than such as thou be." 
 
 Anastasia looked scornfully at the woman ; she de 
 spised her brutal passion, and mocked it. Turning to 
 Olivia with a laugh, she said, " So this is one of your 
 friends, Mistress Prideaux. I ever thought you were 
 base-born." 
 
 " Base-born ! Hear her ! hear her ! " 
 
 The women were now all talking together, and the 
 room was in a tumult. Anastasia stood her ground, but
 
 IN APPLEBY JAIL. 309 
 
 there was a look of terror in her eyes. She knew they 
 were quite capable of giving her a far more severe pun 
 ishment than ever Chenage had attempted. 
 
 Then Olivia, holding the babe in her left arm, put her 
 right hand upon their leader. " Moll, thou must sit down 
 and be quiet. If thou strikest, thou wilt hurt me most 
 of all." 
 
 Her voice, so calm and even, had an authority they 
 had learned to love and a charm they could not resist. 
 They obeyed her at once, dropping their hands, but 
 still muttering threats as Olivia turned to Anastasia. 
 
 " Mistress de Burg, be pleased, for thy own sake, to 
 remove at once. Here is danger for thee, though none 
 for me. I wish not to see thee hurt." And though the 
 proud woman stood flashing hatred and scorn on the 
 speaker, she was yet insensibly controlled by her stern, 
 still face and the calm, positive voice with which she 
 commanded her obedience. 
 
 " I owe you somewhat already, Olivia Prideaux, and 
 you may add this impertinence to the bill." 
 
 Then there was another passionate outcry from Moll 
 Bassing and her companions, and the jailer angrily strode 
 toward the group. 
 
 " Moll, I will give both you and the fine madam you 
 are quarrelling with a taste of my whip if you keep not 
 the peace." 
 
 " Oh, jailer, kind jailer, take us both to task ! I 'd say 
 ' thank 'ee for fifty,' if you give her likewise." 
 
 " Mistress de Burg," urged Olivia, " I pray you dis 
 pute no further, but go at. my word. You do but pro 
 voke those that you must needs obey." 
 
 " Well, then, 't is no shame to flee from such a rabble 
 lot. Jailer, open the door." 
 
 "Patience, Mistress. This is my house, and, by
 
 310 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Heaven ! 't is easier to get in than to get out. Go into 
 the passage-way and cool yourself. I would not have 
 you set the town on fire." 
 
 She gave Olivia one steady, vengeful look before she 
 went, and Olivia, still holding the child close to her 
 breast, looked steadily back at her. And Anastasia was 
 astonished. For in that moment she saw, not the gentle 
 Quaker maiden, but a tall, noble-looking woman, hold 
 ing her head high in conscious rectitude, and glowing 
 with sinless indignation at outrage unnecessary and 
 unprovoked.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 MISTRESS OF CHENAGE. 
 
 " We do not know when we shall pass through a day the child of the 
 sun with never -failing good ; for currents run this way and that, bringing 
 both pleasures and sorrows." 
 
 " For the sower of the seed is the author of the whole harvest of 
 mischief." 
 
 TO Kelderby, between the sea and the mountains, 
 winter came early. It was yet September, but the 
 air was chilly, and Nature was facing the inevitable with 
 that sad patience which is so characteristic of the last 
 days of autumn. The sea lay quiet, colourless, mournful. 
 The mountain-tops were invisible, their shoulders covered 
 with a shady mantle of clouds, their feet sandaled with 
 fir forests, sounding softly the lament of ancient days. 
 Like a gloomy lake of purplish barrenness were the dis 
 tant moors. Nearer at hand the cattle and sheep stood 
 mournfully among the bracken, now every colour but 
 green, amber, crimson, lilac, ivory, and russet-brown. 
 In the stubble crows were calling in hoarse, coarse voices 
 to a flight of fieldfares rushing past them in hurry or fear. 
 Where the meadows skirted the village, boys were play 
 ing football ; and old men leaning over the stone wall 
 watched the ball rise against the gray sky, and listened for 
 the thud with which it fell to the ground. 
 
 The baron saw these things with a sigh, and then 
 turned to the windows which looked into the garden.
 
 312 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 The flowers, the bees, the birds, the butterflies, were all 
 gone away. A solitary robin on a bare rose-tree sang 
 their requiem, or perhaps the song of their resurrection ; 
 for his trilling ended upon his highest notes, and had a 
 tone of triumph in it. And in the garden there was still 
 beauty. The eglantine rods waved their small scarlet 
 balls; the ivy was chapleted with jet; the privet had 
 black clusters that gleamed like glass. For these faithful 
 plants wear their memorials of summer until the snow 
 buries them. 
 
 Such scenes speak with solemn eloquence to age. 
 Kelder took the sermon into his heart, and then turned 
 his face from the outside world. The world inside was 
 far more cheerful. The low, long room, with its dark 
 walls, its handsome furniture, its bright hearth, was made 
 still more delightful by the pleasantly thoughtful woman 
 spinning in its light and warmth. For, in spite of her 
 impulsive temper and ready tongue, Lady Kelder was 
 capable of great restraints where her husband was con 
 cerned. She understood his revery. The patience of his 
 face and attitude asked for her respect,- and she gave it. 
 She knew that his solitary and silent moods were peopled 
 with far higher thoughts than she could share ; then she 
 was content to sit patiently in the outer sanctuary of his 
 life. But when he pushed his chair toward the fire, and 
 sitting down, looked into her face with a smile, she gladly 
 welcomed back to her a companionship full of sweetness 
 and strength and confidence. 
 
 " We shall have a storm anon, Joan." 
 
 " I fear it. And, dear me ! I do wish Nathaniel was 
 at liberty to attend a little to his own affairs." 
 
 " He is constrained, and I trust willingly, to do his 
 duty." 
 
 " A gadabout kind of duty it is. Never at home."
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE. 31 3 ^ 
 
 " I wonder, Joan, if Mistress Chenage went to 
 Appleby?" 
 
 " Make yourself certain of it. Would Anastasia miss 
 an opportunity to display herself ? I am sure that the 
 moon would sooner fail in her orbit. But you may cer 
 tify all wonders now, for I hear my son's voice ! " Her 
 face shone, and she rose up hastily from her wheel. 
 
 Into the still old house there came with Nathaniel, not 
 hurry or tumult, but a sense of most abundant life. His 
 presence filled the room like sunshine. He kissed his 
 mother, and gave both hands to his father, and let 
 his bright, sensitive face rest upon them, and upon each 
 familiar object, with a proud thankfulness. 
 
 Quickly the whole house felt his home-coming. Voices 
 and movements of unusual brightness and pleasant hurry 
 passed through it. The baron, restless with expectation, 
 walked up and down the room. Jael brought forward a 
 small table and spread upon it spiced brawn, cold par 
 tridge, and the wheaten loaf. An apple tart and a pitcher 
 of thick cream edged the more substantial dishes. Wine 
 and Old October were placed within his choice. Lady 
 Kelder watched these preparations with a thoughtful 
 smile, and to crown them brought the chased silver 
 tankard which she had given her son on his twenty-first 
 birthday. 
 
 In a short time Nathaniel was ready for the meal. He 
 had changed his clothing, and removed all traces of travel, 
 save such as defied outward renovation. But these were 
 very marked. He was worn and weary-looking. His 
 soul had evidently wasted his body. He had the appear 
 ance of a man who had lacked comforts, but who had 
 not lacked fatigue and mental worry. 
 
 But it was pleasant to see the evident enjoyment with 
 which he sat down to his own table, his grateful face,
 
 .314 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 his whispered thanksgiving, the hearty, healthful portion 
 which he meted out to his necessities. And though it 
 may not be a very exalted pleasure to watch those we love 
 enjoying a good meal, it is at least a very real one. The 
 father and mother looked at the young man with delight, 
 and doubled the delight by a constant interchange of 
 glances which expressed their mutual satisfaction. And 
 Nathaniel, though hungry, remembered that his parents 
 had a very reasonable curiosity, and as he cut the gener 
 ous slices of brawn he was saying, 
 
 " My Uncle Sanderson hath a very lively gratitude to 
 you. Doubtless he will repay the gold, and in the mean 
 time he hath given us a good gage for it. They were full 
 of trouble, and my Aunt Ann had lost her health on the 
 matter." 
 
 " Ann was ever a whimperer when things went not as 
 she would have them. I hope now she will be so wise as 
 to keep her husband out of folly. In these troublous 
 times that is the first duty of wives." 
 
 The baron smiled faintly at this little home thrust, and 
 asked, "What news have you of Cousin De Burg?" 
 
 " De Burg hath been strangely ill. 'T was feared that 
 he would never recall his senses. God be thanked, that 
 terror is passed ! " 
 
 " In what condition is he now? " 
 
 " He is very weak. Two men carried him to his trial. 
 One could have borne the burden, so much hath he fallen 
 away." 
 
 " What hath been done in his affairs, Nathaniel?" 
 
 " He goes to London, to the Tower. His estate is 
 sequestered to the Commonwealth, with such modest 
 allowance from it as will pay his needful expenses in 
 prison." 
 
 "I do not rejoice over him," said Lady Kelder,
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE. 315 
 
 " though he has but gotten the wages he earned. ' They 
 who kindle a fire must put up with the smoke. And as 
 he could not bear wealth well, he must learn how poverty 
 will bear itself. Was Mistress Chenage at the trial? " 
 
 Nathaniel's face darkened as he answered, " She was 
 there. I think, however, that the Protector himself 
 judged both De Burg and Prideaux, or the one had got 
 less than his deserts and the other more ; for Anastasia 
 had won the judges ere her father came to his trial, and 
 her passion at their decision in Prideaux's case showed 
 that she intended him more harm than he got." 
 
 " George Fox has been in London again. He may 
 have moved Cromwell about both men." 
 
 " Cromwell is froward in himself to render justice. But 
 herein some one had taught him particulars, for after the 
 judges were on the bench, and the assize opened, a spe 
 cial messenger arrived and delivered them in open court 
 two papers, and I am most sure their superscription was 
 in the Protector's handwriting. In De Burg's case the 
 verdict was, without doubt, unexpected, for Mistress 
 Chenage showed a temper of disappointment beyond all 
 womanliness. Nor did she company with the judges 
 afterward." 
 
 " What said she, Nathaniel? " 
 
 " Dear mother, 't would be unprofitable and fretting to 
 repeat her. She is the sort of woman who cannot miscarry 
 in her undertakings without calling earth and heaven to 
 witness what wrongs she suffers." 
 
 " Indeed, 't is said her tongue hath driven her husband 
 beyond seas." 
 
 " Pray God her intents were not sharper than her 
 words ! I think, indeed, that Anastasia's heart is worse 
 than her tongue." 
 
 " What mean you ? "
 
 316 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Nay, I will not shape my suppositions. I doubt that 
 Chenage forgot that the enemy he neither suspected nor 
 feared was the most dangerous." 
 
 "What heard you of his strange disappearance? " 
 
 " A confused report passed through my ears, but full of 
 hurry and unlikely dread. Le Tall whispers of the Devil 
 and bottomless perdition. Others say he prodigally threw 
 his life away, and now sits in hell brooding o'er the un 
 profitable escape. 'T is certain his wife mourns not for 
 his fate ; she laments it o'er much. Great sorrows find 
 not leisure for such complaining." 
 
 " Hath De Burg left for London? " 
 
 " He was most anxious to leave. The Tower is a pal 
 ace to the hole in which he has suffered so much ; 't is 
 also, he says, ' a prison befitting his rank.' And though 
 he could scarce whisper, he made shift to tell me that 
 King Charles would pay a brave rent for his lodging." 
 
 "Is there good-will between you?" 
 
 " He is as grateful as a man can be who reviles fate for 
 giving him back life through such hands as mine. Anas- 
 tasia travels with him. She will pillow his way with her 
 enchantments. I think surely the officers on guard will 
 carry him all the way in their arms if she but smile and 
 ask them. Never has she been so radiantly beautiful ; yet 
 never have I thought her so little to be wished for, so 
 much to be dreaded." 
 
 " We carry the character of our souls mystically in our 
 faces, Nathaniel. What says the son of Sirach ? ' A man 
 may be known by his look, and one that hath understand 
 ing by his countenance, when thou meetest him.' If God 
 giveth wisdom to conjecture the countenance, it is as leg 
 ible as a book, read in less time, and far less apt to de 
 ceive us ; but in this matter God speaketh often to men 
 and they heed him not."
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE, 317 
 
 "You are quite right, Baron. As for Anastasia, the 
 woman is pretty handsome, but she is no miracle. I can 
 never believe her beauty able to smite any sensible man. 
 Pray God she do nothing worse than smile her father an 
 easy journey to a sad enough place ! " 
 
 Presently the baron said, " I have been thinking of 
 Roger Prideaux. You say the Protector judged his case 
 also?" 
 
 " I am sure of it. He has been fined three thousand 
 pounds for his imprudent hospitality." 
 
 "A lighter punishment than I expected for him." 
 
 " Punishment is the wrong word, sir. Prideaux was 
 unworldly-wise, but otherwise guiltless of any fault ; and 
 Cromwell, who is a discerner of men and of spirits, knew 
 so much." 
 
 " Were there any new particulars in the trial ? " 
 
 "None. The evidence taken in Kendal was gone 
 over but hurriedly, for the judges were aware that the 
 Protector had already sifted it ere he advised the 
 sentence." 
 
 " Did Anastasia appear against Prideaux ? " 
 
 " Yea, and her fair face and bitter words had wrought 
 his ruin if his case had not been taken into a higher court 
 by George Fox. For surely I think it must have been 
 Fox, or you, dear father?" 
 
 " I made no special pleading for Prideaux. Cromwell 
 asked me concerning the man, and I spoke the truth as 
 I believed it." Then the eyes of father and son met 
 with an understanding in them, full of sympathy and 
 gratitude. 
 
 " Was the Quakeress present? " 
 
 " Her evidence was required." 
 
 " Truly 't was a time for both women to make a show 
 of their beauty and virtues. Let me see them as they
 
 318 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 appeared. I have the curiosity which is natural, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " Anastasia was dressed in black velvet with many gold 
 ornaments. She held a little court of the lawyers and 
 magistrates, and her brilliant smiles won the jury ere they 
 had seen the prisoner. When Prideaux entered she 
 looked at him as the hunter looks at the creature already 
 in the toils." 
 
 "And the Quakeress?" 
 
 " She sat with her aunt under the eyes of Anastasia, and 
 within hearing of her malicious words. But Olivia's soul 
 was refuged in a height beyond both." 
 
 " Was she looking handsomely ? Was she dressed so 
 as to win the good- will of observers ?" 
 
 " She trusted in something more than beauty and fine 
 raiment." 
 
 " Poor silly one ! Has she no worldly wisdom ? Could 
 no one tell her that a good suit of clothes wins many a 
 suit at law, that a fair face is a good case, as justice 
 now goes?" 
 
 " Olivia wore the sober garments which best become a 
 woman. She is lovely enough to need not the adornment 
 of gay cloth and gold and jewels. I would that you had 
 seen her. You would have thought better of all other 
 women for her sake." 
 
 " Indeed, I know not. A woman so wondrous fair 
 might surely have asked of her beauty whatever good in 
 fluence it had to help her father's case. Men are men, 
 and not angels, Nathaniel." 
 
 " Then men should not be tempted to injustice, even 
 though it tended to mercy. Olivia had a surer friend 
 than her own loveliness. ' God was on our side,' she 
 said to me after the trial. ' Oh, I knew well in whom I 
 trusted ! I said, " Our Father which art in heaven, save 
 my father." And he saved him.' "
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE, 319 
 
 "Yet he has three thousand pounds to pay." 
 
 " She prayed not for his gold, but for his life." 
 
 " Three thousand pounds ! 'T is a big price for a 
 single guest. He will entertain no more strangers, I 
 think." 
 
 " Prideaux would shelter a flying man to-morrow. So 
 would Olivia." 
 
 " These Quakers are good at holdfast. They get an 
 idea " 
 
 " A conviction, Mother." 
 
 " A conviction, then, for instance, that it is wrong to 
 give hat-honour to any creature, and they will rot in 
 prison or hang in chains rather than uncover their heads. 
 Faith ! their religion is in their hats, as Samson's strength 
 was in his hair. Surely, Nathaniel, they are very poor 
 creatures. If they were not, some would say a good word 
 for them ; but Independents, Presbyterians, Baptists, and 
 Episcopalians are all against a Quaker." 
 
 " I confess it. And there is excellent reason for their 
 hatred. Men who can live a life of the straitest piety and 
 the most sublime faith without the help of churches must 
 be stumbling-blocks and rocks of offence to the priests of 
 every creed. Churches are everything to priests that 
 Diana was to the silversmiths of Ephesus. No wonder 
 they cry out, and make an uproar, and hale Quakers to 
 prison ; for their craft is in danger if men press beyond 
 all forms and symbols and worship the Spirit in the 
 spirit." 
 
 " Nothing but spirit, spirit, spirit, and not a word of 
 sacraments and the ministry ! No, I will not disdain 
 the helps which God has provided. Losing myself in a 
 wilderness, and knowing nothing, and being nothing, 
 and having no will and no desires of my own, is but a 
 poor exchange for the comfort of prayers and sacra-
 
 32O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 ments, and the shelter of the Church, and the advices 
 of the priest. Until God gives me wings, I shall be 
 so wise as to use my feet, Nathaniel." 
 
 The baron smiled, and Nathaniel leaned toward the 
 earnest little lady and kissed her. She had the last word 
 in the argument, and it satisfied her. With a more be 
 nignant face she asked, "What is to be done to that 
 poor serving-man?" 
 
 " God has taken him. He was dying when I reached 
 Appleby. Mother, I will tell you a great thing of that 
 poor serving-man. He had saved three hundred pounds ; 
 he spent it all in Appleby jail. Many wretched men, 
 dying slowly for small debts, he set at liberty. All pris 
 oners for conscience' sake shared it to the last penny. 
 In his thin, aged arms five men died happy for the 
 great hope he had taught them. It appeared as if the 
 strength and spirit of his youth came back to answer his 
 great need of them." 
 
 " I think that he was a good man." 
 
 " Indeed, Father, he was a soul of God's best earthly 
 mould ; wise in that learning that comes by reverence. 
 Concerning the many entrances to scientific divinity Asa 
 knew nothing at all ; but he had found out the one only 
 door to the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 " Is Appleby jail so bad a place as it is said to be? " 
 
 " 'T is like all the jails in England, Father ; a hideous 
 place in which dwell murder, envy, baleful destinies, 
 squalid filth, wasting corruption, and many diseases. 
 Birth is there, and death ; slumber and wakefulness ; the 
 cry of the wicked in his punishment; the cry of the 
 child in its innocent suffering; discordant clamours; 
 the solemn whisper of prayer; yea, and the still small 
 voice of God." 
 
 " Yet, Nathaniel, a hard place to die in."
 
 MSSTJ?SS OF CHEN AGE. 
 
 " Asa lay down there as calmly as a child lies down 
 to slumber on its mother's knee. ' T is beyond doubt 
 that he had glorious company all down that 'narrow 
 road shelving to the grave,' which George Fox foresaw 
 for. him. And his last mortal word was a glad cry of 
 recognition, Felicia ! " 
 
 "Felicia?" 
 
 " 'T was his wife's name. She left him many years 
 ago." 
 
 " So does death make marriage." 
 
 The baron spoke with great emotion, and Lady Kel- 
 der lifted her eyes to her husband's face and caught the 
 tender look with which he was regarding her. It was a 
 moment in which all felt their immortality. But it is 
 only for a moment the mortal can bear what is above 
 mortality, and the first natural rebound of spiritual ex 
 altation is to touch earth again. Lady Kelder rose, 
 brought her wheel to her hand, and began to spin. 
 And as she gently turned it she asked, 
 
 " Did Prideaux come back with you, Nathaniel? " 
 
 " No ; the payment of his fine was to be secured, and 
 certain formalities to be gone through, which may delay 
 him several days. He is determined upon the sale of 
 Sandys." 
 
 " That seemeth strange, Nathaniel," said the baron. 
 "Three thousand pounds could not endanger Sandys 
 beyond relief." 
 
 " And if it be truly got, it may be comfortably kept, 
 Nathaniel." 
 
 " Yea, Mother. Prideaux could keep Sandys, but his 
 confinement hath changed him so much that he desires 
 not to keep it. Seeing, and hearing of, and sharing in 
 the affliction of his people, hath made his faith a burn 
 ing flame. He will no longer dwell in comfort while 
 
 21
 
 322 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 they are scattered through all the dungeons in England. 
 He has determined to join Fox, and visit the oppressed 
 in every town, and minister to their bodily and spiritual 
 necessities." 
 
 " The Vagrant Act is manifestly made for such travjel- 
 ling Quakers. He will be in prison again." 
 
 " In every prison he will find men to preach to, and 
 friends to help." 
 
 "Self-denying, I confess. But what will become of 
 his fair daughter? " 
 
 " She goes with her aunt to Mettelane." He rose with 
 the words, and proposed to his father a walk among the 
 farm offices. " The men are coming in from the fields," 
 he said, " and I want to talk to them." In reality he 
 feared any conversation with his mother concerning 
 Olivia. 
 
 So they left the room together, and Jael entered as 
 they did so. She began to clear the table, and for 
 some minutes Lady Kelder did not speak to her. 
 Among the white flax her white hands moved, and the 
 wheel hummed gently to her indeterminate and chang 
 ing thoughts. 
 
 " Jael ! " 
 
 The woman stood still upon the hearth and looked 
 inquiringly at her mistress. 
 
 "Jael, I have heard that the serving-man Asa Bevin is 
 dead. I think surely that he was a good man, in intent, 
 and it may be that God will accept the intention." 
 
 " Ambrose has told us about him. Ambrose went 
 often to the jail with my young master. Asa Bevin did 
 his whole duty. He always did that, did Asa." 
 
 " One should be sure that it is a duty, Jael, before we 
 give life away. Life is a great gift, happen the Lord 
 likes us to value it."
 
 MISTRESS OF CHRNAGE. 323 
 
 " True, my Lady. But if you are going to do anything 
 for other people's lives, you will often have to lose your 
 own, and make no words about it. It is a grand thing, 
 my Lady, to over-get the world, and count death eternal 
 life." 
 
 " Unreasonableness is bound up in the heart of a 
 Quaker. If Asa would have taken off his hat, he could 
 have kept out of jail and been alive to-day." 
 
 " Likely. More body and less soul had served him 
 better for this world." 
 
 " What said Ambrose of the trial? " 
 
 "That the judges had ready-made verdicts. 'Tis 
 said that the Pro " 
 
 " I know, and 't is like enough. Was Mistress Pri- 
 deaux present? " 
 
 " At her father's side." 
 
 " And Master Nathaniel ? " 
 
 " By her side." 
 
 " I feared it. God-a-mercy, Jael ! what is to be done 
 in this affair?" 
 
 " What we can't manage it is best to leave, my Lady. 
 We only spoil what we have no charge to put different. 
 Ambrose said a handsomer pair never stood together; 
 and 't is certain that the Quaker maid far outshone the 
 young widow, if widow she be." 
 
 " What was said of Mistress Chenage? " 
 
 " I 'd as lief say nothing of her. She is a naught of 
 all naughts. First ogling the judges, and then rating 
 them, and anon turning on Master Nathaniel and Mis 
 tress Prideaux as if she had a mind to kill them. Most 
 people thought her off-at-side with temper, and I am 
 much of their mind. Handsome, but a bad heart in 
 her; and, like the cats, never doing good but out of 
 an ill intention."
 
 324 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " 'T is said Master Prideaux will leave Sandys." 
 
 " I heard tell. 'T was a bad sign to see such heavy 
 crops on the land, and I said so ; a fey harvest, the 
 last for him." 
 
 " In many things you are too superstitious, Jael." 
 
 " God-a-mercy ! No, my Lady. I but read the every 
 day book open before my eyes. Thus and so, from 
 generation to generation ; and why would n't it be true ? 
 When Lucy Halliday's baby died I said to her, * Pour 
 all your milk on the ground, or death will come again ; ' 
 and she said, ' Nay, she would n't be that silly ; ' and so 
 she kept her milk and lost the next bairn also." 
 
 " A pagan libation, Jael. Why should Christian moth 
 ers mind it?" 
 
 " I strain not my wits over why and wherefore, my 
 Lady. Many happenings inner and outermer, and no 
 reasons given us for them." 
 
 " What a noise the birds are making above the 
 windows ! " 
 
 "Philip the sparrow. Brawling, impudent birds, always 
 wrangling and always eating. Very common birds, my 
 Lady ; no quality among them. But when they are 
 getting ready for bed it is near shutting-in-time." Then 
 Jael moved toward the door, and Lady Kelder began to 
 turn her wheel again ; but she sighed, and her face had 
 the perplexed look of one who finds life a riddle beyond 
 the solving. 
 
 Nathaniel had avoided a discussion concerning Olivia 
 on the night of his return, but in the morning he volun 
 tarily sought his mother's confidence. Something in his 
 face and manner revealed his purpose before he spoke, 
 and Lady Kelder was at once in arms. She lifted her 
 face with a smile to meet him, but she inwardly resented 
 the fact that Olivia was to be forced upon her notice.
 
 Ml 'STRESS OF CHEN AGE. 325 
 
 She had a score of more interesting things to discuss, 
 and she thought Nathaniel might have waited her 
 pleasure. In fact, she was very much in the same 
 temper that made the wolf find the lamb guilty of dis 
 turbing the stream, whether the stream flowed up or 
 down. 
 
 She talked nervously and hastily of the dahlia bulbs 
 and the apple-gathering ; of Nathaniel's own need of a 
 new velvet suit ; of his father's failing health ; of her own 
 numerous household anxieties. She felt her son's divi 
 nation of her motive, and at last she could no longer talk 
 against the pained intelligence of his face. She became 
 suddenly silent, and then made as if she would put by 
 her wheel and leave the room. 
 
 " Stay, Mother. I wish to speak to you about Mistress 
 Prideaux." 
 
 " God's mercy ! Am I never to lose the echo of a 
 name so hateful to me? I have done my best to avoid 
 this question ; if you force it, Nathaniel, you must take 
 the result from me." 
 
 " I do so love the girl, dear mother." 
 
 " Faith, sir ! If confessions are to be made, let me 
 tell you I do so hate the girl." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " There is neither why nor wherefore about it. You 
 have no right to ask me why; and indeed I have other 
 questions of far greater weight to occupy my conscience 
 with." 
 
 " I intend to marry Olivia Prideaux, Mother." 
 
 " Well, you have said so before ; but between saying 
 and doing is a big journey." 
 
 " Her father is determined to go to the American 
 colonies. I have won the girl's love. If I marry her 
 not, I force her to a long and dangerous voyage, and a
 
 326 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 life for which she is totally unfit. 'T is my part of hon 
 our, as well as of love, to offer her now the protection 
 of my name and home." 
 
 " Well, then, what home? " 
 
 " Kelderby is so large, Mother. " 
 
 " 'T is a world too small for Olivia Prideaux ; and 
 here she comes not while I stand as its mistress. Bring 
 me a daughter like Mary Bellingham, and I will share 
 all I have with her ; or your cousin Singleton ; or even 
 Jean Raby. Faith, Nathaniel ! though I love a good 
 woman, I care not for saints and angels, till I have 
 a translation." 
 
 "Dear Mother, be patient with me. Will you let 
 me have the use of Swaffham Manor House? You go 
 not into it, nor nigh it, and it is quite empty." 
 
 " Swaffham ! My own dower house ! No, sir ! If 
 your father dies before I do, I must go to Swaffham, and 
 you will bring that Quakeress here. Do you think I 
 will give fate such an opportunity? To step down from 
 Kelderby to Swaffham is ill enough; but to take her 
 place, and let her take mine, that is a thing beyond my 
 contemplation, and ought to be beyond yours. A good 
 son has never dared to think that his mother was mortal." 
 
 " Be not so unjust in your words, Mother ; your 
 thoughts, I know, condemn them. And if you will not 
 love my wife, to force you is above humanity. I must 
 pray God " 
 
 " No, sir ! I charge you make no such prayer for me. 
 And as for a home, why go you not to Sandys? " 
 
 " Sandys is to be sold." 
 
 " To pay the Quaker's fine ? " 
 
 " No ' needs be ' for that end ; but, as I told you, 
 Roger Prideaux goes to America, and will turn all his 
 estate into gold."
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE. 327 
 
 " Faith ! if he goes nigh to the Plymouth Colony, he 
 will get his deserts. Brave Endicott and the priests 
 who whet the swords and knot the scourges for him are 
 such men as fear not to handle Quakers, be they men or 
 women." 
 
 " Dear Mother, 't is the thought of this, and of Oli 
 via's upright soul, and of her danger " 
 
 " There is no occasion for Olivia and her father to 
 cross oceans in search of such dangers. Because they 
 are stubborn in folly, shall I give up my home to save 
 the girl? I trow not ! " 
 
 "One room, Mother " 
 
 "If she had one room, I should feel her in every 
 room. I will not have her here, nor in any place that 
 is mine. Take that for your answer, sir. And I shall 
 count you very much mine enemy if you name the girl 
 in my hearing again." 
 
 She rose up with the words, and looked steadily at her 
 son. Her face was flushed, her head thrown haughtily 
 backward ; but through her misty, troubled eyes her 
 heart denied every cruel word she had uttered. And 
 her son's attitude smote her. He stood by the high oak 
 chimney-piece, his teeth firmly set in his under lip. De 
 spairing anger widened his mournful eyes. He was the 
 image of one who had been wronged by a love that 
 should have succoured him. She could not bear to 
 leave him without a word more like conciliation, and 
 with the open door in her hand she said gently, 
 
 " Any girl but this girl I will love for your sake, my 
 son." 
 
 " There is no other, Mother." 
 
 Then she closed the door, and went upstairs and 
 cried bitterly ; and would listen to none of Jael's com 
 forting, because she was sure Jael in her heart sided
 
 328 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 against her. She complained that she had no friend 
 in her trouble, not even the baron, who ever since 
 he saw Olivia in London had been weak-hearted, and 
 she verily believed double in the matter. 
 
 Perhaps the baron was ; at any rate, his authority was 
 sufficient to prevent the open sore of perpetual discus 
 sion. Nathaniel went to and fro between Kelderby and 
 Sandys, and his visits were not commented on. And 
 precious as the last sands of life were these hours to the 
 lovers ; for they knew that as soon as Sandys was sold 
 some change must come. They inquired not of the fut 
 ure, but took day by day as a special gift of happiness. 
 
 In December, Roger unexpectedly closed the house. 
 He was going through England with George Fox ; and 
 perhaps also he thought that Nathaniel was acquiring 
 an undue influence over his daughter. So Olivia went 
 to Mettelane with her aunt, and fair Sandys was left 
 alone with its memories. 
 
 Just before Christmas, Nathaniel was one day on his 
 road to Mettelane, and on Kendal bridge he met Anas- 
 tasia face to face. She had a strange gentleman in 
 her coach, and three serving-men rode behind her. 
 She looked at Nathaniel fixedly, with burning eyes ; but 
 this day Nathaniel did not salute her. Never before 
 had he failed to uncover his head when they met, and 
 she was passionately angry at the implied slight. She 
 put her head out of the window of the coach, and called 
 after him, 
 
 " So-ho, Cousin ! Are you become a Quaker, that 
 you refuse me hat-honour? or has the Quakeress for 
 bidden you ? Faith, you are a very scurvy fellow ; and 
 I have a mind to send my footman to chastise you." 
 The words were emphasized by the mocking laugh he 
 knew so well ; and for a moment his face burned, and
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE. 329 
 
 he had a desperate longing to make her companion pay 
 for the impertinence. Then he thought of Olivia, and 
 the temptation passed with the thought, and he rode 
 onward whispering her name. 
 
 Anastasia was going to Chenage. She was going to 
 carry out a little scheme of revenge which she_ had long 
 contemplated, and she was in high spirits. Her meet 
 ing with Nathaniel made her dull and gloomy; but as 
 soon as she came 'in sight of the gray, mournful- looking 
 house she flung aside the depression. A dazzling light 
 sprang into her eyes. Her lips parted in smiles. Her 
 cheeks flushed vividly, and she impatiently pushed from 
 them the long, drooping curls of her dark hair. 
 
 The gates were locked, and the dogs prowling about 
 the inclosure like wild beasts. Their furious barking, 
 and the clatter made upon the gates by her attendants, 
 at length brought both Gilbert and Thomas to demand 
 the reason of it. They were confounded by the appari 
 tion of their mistress. They trembled at the sound of 
 her voice, at the nameless atmosphere she brought into 
 the house with her. 
 
 Never had a meal been cooked in Chenage with such 
 expedition as was cooked for Anastasia that day. While 
 the servants were all busy about it, muttering beneath 
 their breath their fears and their opinions, she suddenly 
 stepped into the kitchen, and asked if they had heard 
 anything of their master ; and there was so much sus 
 picion and anger in her voice that only Audrey found 
 courage to answer with a short but positive negative. 
 
 Anastasia fancied there was a tone of insolence in the 
 word, and she looked at the woman. It was a cleaving 
 glance. It made Audrey remember all the cruelty and 
 petty insolence of her small triumphs. It made her 
 heart turn cold with fear. It made her resolve to leave
 
 33O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Chenage on the following day. Even when* her mistress 
 went back to the parlour, she could not join in the low, 
 timorous conversation that followed. She went to the 
 door, and looked out. It was snowing, and the cold 
 was intense ; but she whispered to herself, " To-morrow 
 I go, if she stays." 
 
 Five minutes after she had made this resolution, one 
 of the men brought from London by Anastasia informed 
 Audrey that she was wanted. An excessive terror seized 
 her ; she went trembling to answer the call. She was at 
 no time a pleasant-looking old woman. Cruelty, avarice, 
 sensuality, had left their marks upon her hard face ; and 
 her bleared, soulless eyes essayed in vain their usual 
 insolent stare. When Anastasia looked at her, she 
 dropped their fat lids, and stood in half-rebellious hu 
 mility before the mistress whose wrongs and sorrows 
 she had so often insulted. 
 
 "We will go through the house, Audrey. Get the 
 keys and unlock the rooms." 
 
 " They are unlocked, Mistress." 
 
 "All of them?" 
 
 "I would n't wonder, Mistress. Master liked them 
 unlocked, he did that." 
 
 Anastasia laughed ; but it was a laugh which made 
 Audrey wish that she had not spoken of her master. 
 
 " Go before us." 
 
 From parlour to chamber they went, Audrey first, 
 Anastasia and the stranger following. She called him 
 Captain Temple, and she had a good deal of conversa 
 tion with him regarding improvements and refurnishing ; 
 and Audrey understood from its tone that it was the 
 intention of Anastasia to live at Chenage a great part 
 of her time. 
 
 " If Roger Chenage should come back," she said with
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE'. 331 
 
 an indescribable air, " if he should come back, I wish 
 to be here to welcome him." Audrey listened to her 
 with fear and wonder. She was constantly appealed to 
 regarding the traditions of certain rooms ; but ever, 
 amid her babbling recollections of former squires and 
 dames of Chenage, she was trying to recall the special 
 indignities and unkindnesses she had offered to its pres 
 ent mistress. 
 
 In a little corner room of the second story, which 
 afforded a magnificent view of the country, the paity 
 stood silent for a few moments ; and Audrey, dropping 
 a most unusual courtesy, turned to leave. 
 
 " Stop ! we have not yet seen the upper floor." 
 
 "The garret, Mistress? the lumber-room? There 
 is nothing else." 
 
 " Only the most interesting room in the house, the 
 room in which Lady Cecilia died ; I mean, in which 
 she was done to death. Captain Temple is a relative 
 of hers; he wishes to see it, Audrey." 
 
 " I protest, Mistress." 
 
 " I protest, Audrey, that you will open it." 
 
 With a white, sullen face Audrey produced the key, 
 and preceded the party upstairs. In a few moments 
 they stood within a large apartment containing nothing 
 whatever but the iron staple and chain and bracelet, as 
 Chenage had described them. It was lighted by several 
 windows ; but the chain was too short to admit of a 
 prisoner reaching any of them. Captain Temple looked 
 the horror he felt. Anastasia touched the instruments 
 of cruelty, and then turned to the trembling woman at 
 her side. 
 
 "How long was the Lady Cecilia a prisoner here?" 
 
 " Eleven years. She was mad." 
 
 "No wonder. Who had charge of her?"
 
 332 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "I I was very kind to her." 
 
 "The better for you; for 'tis said her ghost walks 
 here all night, and I intend you to keep it company. 
 Well, if you did her no wrong you need not fear it." 
 
 "Mistress, have pity !" 
 
 "Such pity as you gave you shall have." 
 
 " I shall die ; I shall die of fright ! " 
 
 " Faith ! no one will be sorry. So this was to have 
 been my chamber," she looked with kindling anger 
 around her, "and you, woman, my jailer! Give me 
 the key of the bracelet ! " 
 
 " Mistress ! " 
 
 "Give me the key ! " 
 
 She was in a blazing passion, and the stamp of her 
 foot on the floor was like a blow to the almost fainting 
 woman. But she put her hand in her pocket and found 
 the key, and with an almost inarticulate cry for mercy 
 she handed it to Anastasia. 
 
 "Captain, lock the ring round her right wrist. It is 
 your part of a righteous retribution." 
 
 Then the woman grovelled in abject terror and hu 
 miliation at Anastasia' s feet, and Anastasia spurned her 
 away with loathing and hatred. There was no pity in 
 her reproaches ; there was still less pity in the stern 
 silence of the man who was Lady Cecilia's avenger ; and 
 in a few moments Audrey was learning by personal expe 
 rience something of the misery she had inflicted. 
 
 " Make haste to die ; it is your only hope of release." 
 And with these words Anastasia locked the door and 
 went leisurely with her companion down the dark, wind 
 ing staircase. Her light laugh and the tapping of her 
 shoes on the oak floors were strangely distinct in the 
 uncanny silence of the lonely house. 
 
 After she had eaten and drank she called in every one
 
 MJSTXESS OF CHEN AGE. 333 
 
 of the old servants of Chenage and dismissed them. 
 Gilbert, who had been all his life in the house, pleaded 
 that he had no relatives left and knew not where to go. 
 
 "I will warrant you have money saved, for you are a 
 thief. I have seen you selling the wheat out of the 
 granary." 
 
 "The master has four hundred pounds and some 
 more of mine." 
 
 " A likely story, truly ! Where is your proof? and I 
 will pay you." 
 
 "Alack-a-day ! I have never a scrap of writing. The 
 master knew; the master knew " 
 
 "For my part I am sure that you are an impudent 
 liar." 
 
 "Audrey knows too, Mistress; Audrey knows " 
 
 "Audrey, indeed ! Audrey will say whatever I want 
 her to say. Audrey is in my service now, and I will 
 keep her where you cannot teach her what to say. 
 Thomas, be off from Chenage by noon to-morrow by 
 daylight were better, lest worse befall you. Had you 
 also money with the master?" Then, turning on the 
 women, she said with a double fierceness : " Nan Kerr, 
 I hear you came from Carlisle. Be as far as you can on 
 the way back to Carlisle ere my sleep is over. Jess, 
 'pretty Jessie," so your master called you, I think, 
 you are a bad wench, and out of house you go at day 
 light. Wages, did you say? Not a farthing bit. The 
 master owes you money belike, also. Such a parcel of 
 rogues in a house ! I wish I may keep my temper long 
 enough to clear it of you." 
 
 "Mistress, mistress, I cannot leave Chenage!" cried 
 Gilbert, piteously. " I am an old man. I have no home 
 but Chenage. I have no friends." 
 
 " Bethink you, sirrah. One day I wished to leave
 
 334 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Chenage to see my friends, and you told me that the 
 dogs would not permit me. The dogs can drive out as 
 well as in. Do you understand ?" 
 
 " God help me ! I am old and friendless, and my gold 
 is gone." 
 
 "Ask the Devil's help; 'twere better you did not 
 remind God of your existence. Ask the Devil's help. 
 He knows you." 
 
 "Mistress," said Jess, "I always liked you. I will 
 serve you faithful. Let me stay. 'T is a long way back 
 to Conistone, and over mountains " Then Jess 
 ceased speaking, for she saw her mistress toss her head 
 and turn on her heel with an impertinent shrug, and she 
 suddenly remembered that she had once answered her 
 in the same manner. The action was too cleverly imi 
 tated to be mistaken, and the girl knew that all her 
 entreaties would be in vain. 
 
 "All of you go, the sooner the better, and leave be 
 hind you some token for the constable. I know not 
 what you may have taken from the house, but, faith ! I '11 
 find that out ere long. And, in earnest, I hold none of 
 you innocent about the master. 'T will be seen yet that 
 you did for him in some way. I find myself unable to 
 endure you longer." 
 
 Then she turned her back upon the wretched group, 
 and putting one hand upon Captain Temple's shoulder 
 and one foot upon the bright brass fender, she began to 
 sing, swaying herself to the melody with careless and 
 graceful movements. 
 
 Temple looked at her with wondering admiration. 
 He was an old man, and his strong face was bronzed 
 with long sea-service. In an accidental meeting with 
 Anastasia in London he spoke of his aunt's marriage to a 
 Chenage, and then he heard of her miserable fate. He
 
 MISTRESS OF CHEN AGE. 335 
 
 had been accustomed to " right his own wrong ; " he 
 understood the feeling of Anastasia, and shared it. Her 
 spirit was admirable in his eyes, and he rejoiced in the 
 " accident " which had made her free. Her singing 
 pleased him ; he listened with a smiling face, and at the 
 close of the verse said, 
 
 "Compute me how much gold the young Earl of 
 Southport would give to be here in my place." 
 
 "He is but a poor fellow, Captain, a poor fellow 
 who knows not what opportunity may do for love ; " 
 and then, laughing, she sang with a meaning and spirit 
 not to be mistaken, 
 
 " A silly shepherd woo'd, but wist not 
 
 How he might his mistress' favour gain ; 
 For on a time they met, but kist not, 
 And ever after that he woo'd in vain. 
 Silly youth, why dost thou dally, 
 
 Having time and season fit? 
 Never stand on ' shall I,' ' shall I,' 
 
 Nor commend an after wit 
 He that will not, when he may, 
 When he will, he shall get nay." 
 
 As she finished the song she brought the chess-board 
 and arranged the pieces for a game with her companion ; 
 and she made her moves with as much consideration as 
 if they were her only interest in life. The terror in the 
 lonely room upstairs, the fear and anxiety in the kitchen, 
 gave her satisfaction. She found pleasure in reflecting 
 that her abrupt dismissal would send her men and 
 women into the world under suspicions they could not 
 remove, that they were all without money, in a lonely, 
 mountainous country, in midwinter, and at a time when 
 there was a superfluity of servants. 
 
 After she had got a checkmate she pushed the board 
 away, and sitting in the firelight, she told such tales of
 
 336 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 her miserable marriage that the old man listening wished 
 with a great oath that he had Chenage and all the 
 servants of his wicked will under the hatches of his ship. 
 And then such a strange light flashed into Anastasia's 
 face that he stopped speaking and looked at her in 
 wonder. Just a little more, and he would have read the 
 whole story in her eyes. 
 
 He went to sleep trying to find it out. Anastasia 
 slept not at all. She walked to and fro in the large, dim 
 room, stopping to throw a fresh log on the fire, or to 
 look at herself in the darkling mirror, or to open the 
 door, and standing with head thrust fonvard, listen for 
 any unusual noise downstairs or upstairs. 
 
 She was on the watch, and would be until she had 
 freed the house of every one connected with Chenage. 
 "And then," she said softly, with a sigh of satisfaction 
 "and then we shall attend to Prideaux and the saint 
 Olivia. Ha, ha ! Revenge is a tasty morsel. No 
 wonder the gods kept it for their private share." 
 
 At length she sat down before the blaze, and flung off 
 her shoes and gown and all the restraints of her fine 
 costume, and dovered and dozed and mused and 
 dreamed, until the pallid dawn showed her a white, 
 frozen stretch of moorland, and a sad, shivering group of 
 men and women fighting their way across it. 
 
 She watched them a moment or two, and then cud 
 dled herself comfortably among the lamb's-wool blankets 
 and dreamed of what she had been thinking, the great 
 drift by Chenage Scaur, which might, might which 
 might be so dangerous for them.
 
 XVII. 
 PARTING. 
 
 " But love can hope where reason would despair." 
 
 " Their free-bred soul 
 
 Went not with priests to school, 
 To trim the tippet and the stole, 
 
 And pray by printed rule ; 
 But they would cast the eager word 
 
 From their hearts' fiery core, 
 Smoking and red, as God had stirred 
 
 The Hebrew men of yore." 
 
 " ' I ''HE first cock of hay drives the cuckoo away;" 
 -- and the Mettelane meadows were all sweet with 
 hay, and the Mettelane woods empty of cuckoos. But 
 the garden was ablaze with roses, and from the thickest 
 coverts came the music of the nightingale ; in the day 
 singing of the invisible sun treasured in his soul, in the 
 misty midnight dreaming aloud his hymn of impossible 
 love, "O sun ! O sea ! O rose I" 1 
 
 It was the longest day in the year, and there were at 
 least a dozen men and women making hay in the High 
 Meadow. Nathaniel and Olivia sat under a great oak, 
 both a little flushed with the unusual exercise. Olivia's 
 hood was on her lap ; Nathaniel had also uncovered his 
 head, and the cool west wind fanned them with the 
 green leaves of the outstretched branches. 
 
 They were very happy. They were together, they 
 had forgotten all time past, and they were not inclined 
 
 1 Riickert. 
 
 22
 
 338 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 to wonder about the future. They knew that when 
 Sandys was sold there would be a great change, but 
 until then they were taking the counsel of the wise son 
 of Sirach, " Defraud not thyself of a good day." 
 
 Never had Nathaniel seen Olivia so charming. With 
 the innocent gayety of a child she told him all about her 
 simple life. Her head was resting against the huge 
 brown trunk, her little feet just escaped the hem of her 
 white dress, and their bronzed morocco shoes and silver 
 latches gleamed among the green grasses around them. 
 Sometimes they were silent for very happiness, and then 
 they listened smiling to the rude chant of the labourers 
 as they followed one another through and through the 
 swaths of drying grass. 
 
 " Oh, the haymaking ! the haymaking ! 
 And the shaking, 
 And the raking, 
 And the very merry making, 
 Of the hay, of the hay ! 
 Of the hay, hay, hay ! " 
 
 The musical repetition of the word and the rhythmic 
 step and the charm of voices in unison were chorus to 
 the drama in their hearts. 
 
 Suddenly Nathaniel felt an impulse irresistible and 
 delightful, a little madrigal long forgotten sprang to 
 his lips, and he gave it utterance in a voice -as clear and 
 strong as the heart from which it came : 
 
 "Like to Diana uxher summer weed, 
 Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye, 
 
 Goes fair Samela ! 
 
 Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, 
 When washed by Arethusa faint they lie, 
 
 Is fair Samela ! 
 
 " As fair Aurora in her morning gray, 
 Decked with the ruddy glister of her love, 
 For she 's Samela I
 
 PARTING. 339 
 
 Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day, 
 When as her brightness Neptune's fancy move 
 Shines fair Samela ! 
 
 '' Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue, 
 And Juno in the show of majesty, 
 
 For she 's Samela ! 
 
 Pallas in wit, all three, if you will view, 
 For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity 
 
 Yield to Samela !" 
 
 To Olivia, ignorant of the gods of ancient days, there 
 was no express meaning in the words. But the dulcet 
 measure of the music was a charmful force. They rose, 
 and hand in hand went through the fields singing of 
 " Fair Samela." For when the heart is full of rapture it 
 recovers its spiritual language, and breaks forth into 
 singing. The words make little matter. Nathaniel had 
 not thought of " Fair Samela " for many a year ; it was 
 a song without words, as far as Olivia's intelligence of 
 them went ; but its allegro maestoso melody, full of slow 
 periods and long movements, expressed, far beyond 
 human language, the ravished perfervidness of a love 
 so noble that it must look to eternity for its highest 
 fulfilment. 
 
 Softer and yet more penetrating grew the iterated 
 lines, the words became living words, they floated into 
 the warm atmosphere and lingered there ; and the 
 lovers felt no weight of mortal flesh, but seemed to float 
 and glide with them through the glowing evening atmos 
 phere, as if their will were motion and their love gave 
 them wings. 
 
 At the garden gate Nathaniel ceased singing. They 
 were going to enter common life again. They could 
 hear Aunt Hannah calling to a servant to hasten the 
 sunset meal, and the dairymaids in the home meadow 
 calling the cows to the milking. But before he opened
 
 340 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the gate he took Olivia in his arms and kissed the rosy 
 blush upon her cheeks, and the love-light shining through 
 her dropped eyelids, and the almost visible love-words 
 upon her lips : 
 
 " Dearest Heart \ Mine, and only mine ? " 
 " Thine, beloved, and only thine." 
 
 The words were like a golden band between them. 
 Their clasped hands typified it. They stood still a 
 moment to listen to a song-sparrow. He was singing 
 on tiptoes, sparkling all over with little cries of happi 
 ness. The box-trees diffused a woody fragrance ; the 
 gold-dusted snapdragons, the stocks in scented blow, 
 the white and purple fritillaries, and the sweetwilliam's 
 homely smell were part and parcel with the marvel of 
 the golden skies. Noticing nothing particularly, they 
 felt the influences of every flower and every song, and 
 light and shadow. They were so happy they forgot to 
 hope and they forgot to fear. The present moment was 
 a full cup. 
 
 With a low laugh they crossed the door-step together, 
 and saw Roger Prideaux sitting at the open lattice. He 
 turned to them a face full of affection, but they knew 
 that they had come to a sorrowful hour. Roger was 
 much changed. His face was lined with thought and 
 suffering, his eyes were full of piercing inquiries, there 
 was a lofty scorn of all human ambitions on his brow. 
 He talked with Nathaniel, until the business of the day 
 was over, about the sufferings of the Quakers and the 
 rapid increase of the persecuted sect. 
 
 "But I have preached to the prisoners and the op 
 pressed a great crusade, Nathaniel," he cried. " We 
 are going to America. In the silent forests of the new 
 land the world has yet no thoroughfare, and we shall 
 have peace and freedom to worship God."
 
 PARTING. 341 
 
 "Indeed, sir," replied Nathaniel, "I have heard of 
 strange cruelties practised in the Plymouth Colony, and 
 against your own persuasion." 
 
 " We shall not trouble the Plymouth Colony, and we 
 shall do well and be happy. The men who have gath 
 ered around George Fox are the picked men from all 
 creeds, the men who desire God before all other things, 
 and who abhor the selfish bargaining with priestcraft for 
 a priceless heaven. And in this matter I am led by Best 
 Wisdom ; for one night, as I pondered in my heart the 
 right way, my hand turned the leaves of my Bible, and I 
 heard the Voice say, ' Read/ and the Book was open at 
 Ezekiel the thirty-fourth chapter, and on these words my 
 eyes fell : 
 
 " ' And they shall dwell safely in the wilderness, and sleep in the woods. 
 " ' And I will make theih and the places round about my hill a blessing : 
 and I will cause the shower to come down in his season ; there shall be 
 showers of blessing. 
 
 " ' And the tree of the field shall yield her fruit, and the earth shall yield 
 her increase, and they shall be safe in their land, and shall know that I am 
 ' the Lord, when I have broken the bands of their yoke, and delivered them 
 out of the hand of those that served themselves of them.' 
 
 " And I know, Nathaniel, that these words shall come 
 to pass ; whether I live, or whether I die, the promise is 
 sure. God shall give unto his people a great inheritance 
 in the land to which they will assuredly go. I call thee 
 to witness my words, for the promise is true." 
 
 Nathaniel heard with a sinking heart, and when they 
 were joined by Hannah Mettelane and Olivia he was 
 determined to know how far this contemplated change 
 would affect the future of Olivia and himself. She sat 
 by her father's side, and Hannah Mettelane sat near 
 them with a piece of sewing in her hand. Nathaniel 
 stood by the open casement, so that he commanded, as 
 it were, the situation.
 
 342 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Roger," he said, speaking with a suddenness that 
 gave to his voice a tone of disapproval or displeasure, 
 " Roger, what say you to my marriage with Olivia before 
 you leave England ? " 
 
 " Thou hast propounded to me a very hard question, 
 Nathaniel, but 't is one that must be speedily answered ; 
 for I have sold Sandys, and, if God so prosper me, I 
 shall leave England in the first days of September." 
 
 " But you cannot intend to take Olivia into the wilder 
 ness." 
 
 " Canst thou truthfully make her thy wife ? What 
 home wilt thou take her to? Art thy father and mother 
 ready to welcome her as their daughter? As for myself, 
 I put my claims behind. thine. I am going to a strange 
 country. For God's sake, or man's sake, I am ready to 
 be offered up in service of any kind." 
 
 "Roger, I know that Nathaniel Kelder is in a hard 
 strait ; his affairs cannot be hurried. Let Olivia stay 
 with me." 
 
 " Nay, sister Hannah, I will not sanction that. There 
 are two roads of duty, straight and plain, set before her. 
 She is to be a daughter to me, she is to share my trials 
 and comfort my sorrows ; or else she is to be the wife of 
 a good man, and the mother of children." 
 
 " Between two ways, brother, there is often a middle 
 way. Let Olivia take it." 
 
 " No, no, Hannah ! That nr'ddle way, neither this 
 thing nor that thing, was the sin for which the Laodicean 
 church was cursed. The work of moderation has the 
 wages of moderation. My child shall have none of them. 
 If she feel it to be her duty to marry Nathaniel, let me 
 bless her in it and go on my own way. If for any reason 
 this duty is not clear and evident, then she cannot desert 
 the first duty of her life. She must be my daughter, or
 
 PARTING. 343 
 
 she must be Nathaniel's wife. Wouldst thou have her 
 sneak out of a hard duty and hide herself in the covert of 
 Mettelane until she can reach her desire? If the fruit 
 she wants is not ripe, wouldst thou have her to sit down 
 under the tree and idly wait for it, or wouldst thou say, 
 ' Do thy manifest and manifold duties, and in full time 
 the fruit will ripen and sweeten, and thou mayst lawfully 
 and truly have it ' ? " 
 
 " Olivia ! Olivia ! " Nathaniel went to her side and 
 took her hands. " Speak for me, dear heart. Only 
 you can know; only you can pity." 
 
 She lifted her face. It was white and sad. "Thou 
 dost not suffer alone, Nathaniel. But Father has put my 
 duty evidently before me, this way or that way, and no 
 easy middle way. I must go with my father, for thou 
 art not free to marry me. I have seen Lady Kelder, 
 and I know that her heart is set against me. But some 
 day that happens which has been long waited for, and 
 until then " 
 
 " To-night we will have no decision. There must be 
 ways and means to bring to pass my desire. I ask for a 
 few hours, Father, for you have given me so much 
 right to use the name, a few hours in which to try and 
 bate something of my ill fortune." 
 
 " If thou beg me by that name, Nathaniel, I can by 
 no means hinder thee." 
 
 He stayed for no longer parley ; he forgot even the 
 slight courtesies of leave-taking, little ceremonies 
 always respected and enjoyed, and in less than ten 
 minutes they heard his horse's hoofs beating the rocky 
 road to Kendal. He changed his horse there, and then 
 hurried on, and on, past Leavens and Arnside, and so 
 into the lonely region of Silverdale. 
 
 Never had the indifference of Nature to the woes of
 
 344 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 humanity seemed to him so cruel. In the soft moon 
 light the wide landscape lay in an ineffable pause, as if 
 the trees and fields were dreaming ; while the steadfast 
 hills, like a vast staircase, went up and up to the clear 
 skies. But his soul could not mount ; she trailed her 
 lagging pinions too near earth. Seaward there was a 
 pulsating, tremendous vitality that oppressed him, and 
 the black hull of a fishing-boat, tossing and wavering like 
 a shadow amid uncertain gloom and solemn water, was 
 the very emblem of his own shadowed and anxious life. 
 
 He had not taken the sea into his calculations ; in 
 deed he had forgotten the tide until he came to Kelder 
 Neck and found the little isthmus impassable. His 
 horse was then too weary to swim, so he awakened a 
 farmer living near, and sought shelter until daylight. 
 
 Early in the forenoon he reached Kelderby. His 
 mother heard his quick step on the flagged halls, and 
 called him with a pleasant recognition. She was in the 
 still-room with Jael, who was making poppy-water for a 
 weak stomach. The long deal tables, polished with oat 
 meal until they glistened like ivory, were covered with 
 bowls and bottles and platters holding their special cor 
 dials, sweet waters, mouth pastilles, odoriferant balls, 
 balsams, and electuaries ; with specifics for swooning of 
 the head, weakness of the heart, decay of the spirit, and 
 the coming on of colds. 
 
 "Well, Nathaniel, you have outrun your promise. I 
 looked not for you so early. Have you had a love quar 
 rel? Is there any new matter on hand? " 
 
 " Roger Prideaux has sold Sandys, and is going to 
 America." 
 
 " 'T is his own choice, and we will speak of happier 
 things, it being necessary to mingle an electuary when 
 one is in a good spirit. Jael, give me the honey and the
 
 PARTING. 345 
 
 me, and then see if there be a fresh trout to brown for 
 your young master." 
 
 " I have eaten as I wish to, Mother, and I want instant 
 speech with my father." 
 
 " He is in the rose walk ; and he hath a pain in the 
 head, and so is in poor condition for vexations, if you 
 will so far consider his infirmities." 
 
 Nathaniel glanced inquiringly at the slightly offended' 
 lady. She was measuring honey and rue with an atten 
 tion which appeared to dismiss all other things, and the 
 large linen apron which covered her dress, and her 
 pinned-back hood-strings, gave her that stern look of 
 preoccupation which he understood was to be respected. 
 So he lifted his hat to her and went into the garden. 
 
 The baron was walking slowly in the rose alley. He 
 was thinking of heavenly things, and his face had the 
 rapture and peace of his thoughts. Nathaniel's greeting 
 was therefore a slight jar, and he came back from the 
 Delectable Mountains to Kelderby with an effort that left 
 a wistful, far-off look in his eyes. 
 
 " Father ! " 
 
 " Well, my son, I am here ; though I confess when I 
 was not here I was in a better place." 
 
 " Father, the pressure of my conditions must excuse 
 my impatience, for I am in a great strait, and I look to 
 you for help in the matter." 
 
 As he was speaking, Lady Kelder came fonvard. She 
 had removed her apron, and was smoothing the folds of 
 her silk dress as she approached. But she caught the 
 sense of Nathaniel's words, and promptly answered them. 
 
 " Blessed be God ! we are now used to trouble, Na 
 thaniel, specially such as comes by the Quakers' road ; 
 and I '11 warrant you have found the ' great strait ' there, 
 or nowhere."
 
 346 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 "Mother, 'tis no longer a time for charges and re 
 charges. I entreat you to give me help instead of words. 
 Roger Prideaux goes to America in two months, and if I 
 marry not his daughter he will take her with him." 
 
 " You will take your father and me to heaven by exer 
 cising our patience, Nathaniel. The Prideaux again ! 
 I would they were gone to America, both of them, a 
 year ago." 
 
 Then Nathaniel turned to his father, and, holding out 
 his hands with supplicating palms, said, " Sir, I love Mis 
 tress Prideaux. I must marry her, or I marry not at all. 
 We have been comrades in arms, we have been friends 
 in council, we have been father and son, and I have 
 truly been obedient and faithful to you all my life. I 
 can but love as my soul loves. Give me such considera 
 tion as you are able to in my trouble." 
 
 "What do you desire, Nathaniel?" 
 
 " I desire to marry Olivia Prideaux ere her father leaves 
 England. If I do not, then I must dread for her the 
 ocean, and the pirates that infest the ocean ; and if she 
 'scape these, you know well what brutal entreaties, what 
 imprisonment and martyrdom, everywhere wait for those 
 of her faith." 
 
 " The very treatment they deserve, Nathaniel." 
 
 " Dear mother " 
 
 " Nay, then, if I be * dear,' let me speak my heart to 
 you. Can you believe that I have the grace to hear a 
 sermon every day in the week about the Prideaux? I 
 tell you if there were none of the name in the world 
 't would be no loss to me. If you had been Saint Paul, 
 you had taken the Prideaux for a text. Your father and 
 I are very weary of all concerning them. 'T is a great 
 freedom you take, sir; and I bred you better, had not 
 Mistress Prideaux spoiled you."
 
 PARTING. 347 
 
 She stood erect and quiet, with her arms folded across 
 her breast, a very noble-looking woman, with the fire of 
 what she believed to be a just indignation sparkling in 
 her wide-open eyes. 
 
 The baron looked at her, and then into the troubled 
 face of his son. It was full of entreaty and suffering, and 
 he found it hard to restrain the sympathy it asked ; but 
 he knew that concessions affecting the happiness or misery 
 of domestic life must not be lightly made. 
 
 " Suppose you marry Mistress Prideaux, what then, 
 Nathaniel?" 
 
 " Is not Kelderby large enough to shelter my wife, 
 Father?" 
 
 " Ask your mother, Nathaniel ; she was not against the 
 De Burgs coming to it, if their necessities had driven 
 them so far. Also, I think surely that the girl you love 
 is a good girl, and very fair, and like to have both hands 
 full ; for Mistress Mettelane is rich, and very loving to 
 her niece. 
 
 " What is all this to you and me, Baron ? If Mistress 
 Prideaux got all that Mistress Mettelane and her genera 
 tion are worth, I should like her none the better. And 
 were Kelderby one hundred times as large, 't would be 
 too small to shelter Mistress Prideaux and all her virtues. 
 I am told 't is a point of good breeding to disguise hand 
 somely, but I am no dissembler, and I have already told 
 Nathaniel as much as I now repeat." 
 
 "Then, Nathaniel," said the baron, "there is no more 
 to be said or done." 
 
 " You are Baron of Kelderby, Father, and I am your 
 heir." 
 
 " Nathaniel, all the right I have in Kelderby I gave to 
 Mistress Joan Singleton when she took me for her hus 
 band." He stepped forward, lifted his wife's hand, and
 
 348 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 touched the thread-like band of gold upon its third finger. 
 " If your mother is willing to share her home with Mis 
 tress Prideaux, I am also most willing. If she is not, 't is 
 indeed far beyond my inclination to make her less than 
 Lady of Kelderby." 
 
 While he spoke he drew Lady Kelder within his em 
 brace. Their white heads touched each other, and there 
 was a momentary understanding swift as thought, pene 
 trating as light. For love, purified by age, has a majestic 
 tenderness and faithfulness, and Nathaniel in his own 
 anxiety could not but respond to his father's loyalty and 
 consideration. 
 
 But his heart was too full to speak. He stood for 
 a moment before them with his head bared, and then 
 hastily retraced the walk where the roses laughed and 
 nodded in the sunshine, and made such riot of sweet 
 scent that he ever afterward felt the smell of roses when 
 trouble or disappointment was to face. 
 
 Roger had had no hesitation in allowing Nathaniel to 
 make another effort to conquer his mother's prejudice, 
 and he was not anxious as to the result. He knew that 
 Olivia was going with him, having such knowledge by a 
 source as much beyond explanation as it was beyond 
 doubt. And as the days and weeks wore rapidly away 
 oh ! so rapidly to Nathaniel Olivia also became a sharer 
 in her father's hopes and feelings ; for no one can ha 
 bitually breathe the atmosphere impregnated with a great 
 enthusiasm and not catch fire from it. And persecution 
 had turned Roger into an apostle. All the energy he had 
 once thrown into the making of gold he now flung, with 
 an almost fanatical abandon, into the cause of the perse 
 cuted Quakers. Fines, imprisonments, floggings, drove 
 him not from the truth, but closer to it ; and so strong 
 were his appeals that Fox called him " a great hammer
 
 PARTING. 
 
 349 
 
 on men's consciences." Even Cromwell had felt its 
 weight, for Roger had not hesitated to remind him that 
 " two thousand English men and women were in prison 
 for Christ's sake ; that their tears had been as water 
 spilt upon a rock ; and that by his indifference to their 
 sufferings he had blown the fire of their persecution." 
 
 Olivia could not remain insensible to such zeal and 
 fervour. Truly as she loved Nathaniel, she loved the fair 
 ideals of spiritual life better. His eager, passionate, sor 
 rowful wooing touched only the outer sanctuary of her 
 life ; for she had a soul that had never quite lost its 
 memory of the skies, whose homing instinct was so 
 strong that when the cares and loves of earthly life cast 
 her out of hand for a few moments its flight was instantly 
 heavenward. 
 
 Life at Mettelane farm was very pleasant to the girl, 
 but there was ever before her inward sight a far grander 
 scene : a new exodus ; God's people coming out of their 
 prison-houses by hundreds and thousands, and going 
 with one heart to make homes in the untrodden forest. 
 And in the green tabernacles of ancient trees she antici 
 pated for herself communion with God in those hidden 
 exaltations whose blessedness is rather surmised than 
 conceived. 
 
 The " Good Intent," which was to carry Roger and his 
 small colony, was to sail from Plymouth on the 5th of 
 September, or earlier ; and toward the close of August 
 Olivia was in London with her father. She had left the 
 green mountains of the North Country far behind, and 
 was facing with a calm and steadfast soul the wide, sepa 
 rating ocean and the solitudes of the unknown world. 
 Nathaniel was also in London; for, though his hopes 
 were growing more impossible every hour, he had that 
 desire which renders will indefatigable and love everlast-
 
 350 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 ing, which is the earnest of possession, the aerial road 
 infallibly leading to its object. Duty might delay, years 
 might sunder, but such love as his would not be prevenced. 
 In these hours of parting he foresaw the hour of meeting ; 
 and in his heart, emptied of all present joy, hope found 
 the more room for a vigorous and insistent growth. 
 
 Their last week in England was spent at the Blue Boar 
 Inn ; a sad, thoughtful, anxious week, to which the events 
 of the time lent a still more sombre colouring. The Pro 
 tector's health was growing constantly worse, and the 
 government rested upon it. Men stood talking in the 
 streets, or in their shops, about subjects nothing related 
 to their trades. The rumour of wars and changes tingled 
 in every ear ; and London had that waiting aspect which 
 touches communities as well as individuals. Strange 
 portents and signs filled men's hearts with a fearful 
 " looking forward ; " the great bells of churches had 
 been tolled by invisible hands, and gliding ghosts from 
 the waste dominions of the dead had been seen in the 
 desolated galleries of Whitehall. 
 
 The night before they were to leave London for Ply 
 mouth, Olivia and Nathaniel were sitting at the open 
 casement looking down into King Street. Roger was 
 busy writing at a table in the middle of the low, darkish 
 room. No one was speaking, for Nathaniel could not 
 say what he wished to. He sat with wide, tearful eyes, 
 holding Olivia's hand. Roger was also silent, but he was 
 very restless, and gave Nathaniel the idea of a man watch 
 ing for some one. Just at dark the door opened and 
 George Fox entered. 
 
 He came in with a blessing on his lips, and laid a 
 large folded parchment before Roger. The action had 
 a movement of triumph in it, and Roger's face bright 
 ened as he took Fox's hand and said in a glad voice,
 
 PARTING. 351 
 
 "George, this is a great thing. I feared thou hadst 
 failed, for the favour is a large one indeed." 
 
 " And I think it is the last loving-kindness Oliver will 
 ever show us. God remember him in all his afflictions ! " 
 
 " Is he then so very ill? " 
 
 " He is nigh unto the grave. I went to Whitehall 
 about thy matter ten days ago, and found John Owen 
 there with Oliver, and we had some talk together of the 
 Inward Light, which John Owen totally disallowed." 
 
 "What said Cromwell?" 
 
 " He grieved me much, for he spoke not reverently, 
 and sat upon the table swaying his booted legs, while 
 he made jokes little like him, or like the matter in 
 hand. 'T was a mirth beside the real man, and I knew 
 not what to think of it, and so came away greatly 
 grieved." 
 
 " I have heard that from childhood he hath been pos 
 sessed at intervals by this mocking spirit, and that when 
 it leaves him he is ever in the depths of despair and 
 gloom." 
 
 " Yesterday he sent for me, and he spoke like himself, 
 and promised me the parchments this morning; and so 
 to Hampton Court I went for them." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 " The Secretary Thurloe put them into my hand after 
 some waiting ; but as I stood in the path of the Park this 
 afternoon I saw Oliver in his coach, a weary, sorrow- 
 laden man indeed. And as I gazed I was awestruck, for 
 I saw and felt a waft of death go forth against him, and 
 when I came to him he looked like a dead man ; and I 
 cried out, ' Farewell to thee, Oliver ! ' and he stayed his 
 coach and spoke to me of thy affairs, and said he would 
 put in order the business relating to the Friends im 
 prisoned for conscience' sake ; and so with a mournful
 
 352 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 face he passed onward. But I judge him to be but a 
 dead man." 
 
 " He hath had many warnings lately to put his house 
 in order and render up his stewardship. The landlady of 
 this inn hath a strange story of a man who met him near 
 by ; indeed 't was just here." And Roger led Fox to the 
 window and pointed out a cobbler's shop. " Thee seest 
 that dark door by the side of it. Oliver was coming down 
 this street at the noon hour, and there was a great crowd, 
 and he was locked in by it just at that door. And as he 
 waited the door opened, and out of it came a man, gigan 
 tic in form, and covered with mail that shone so that no 
 mortal eyes could look steadily at him. Only many saw 
 a sword lifted up, which seemed to strike Cromwell, and 
 heard a ' call,' an unfathomable voice far off, yet near, in 
 some distant world, yet close at hand, cry, ' Hark, Crom 
 well ! Cromwell, come hither ; thou art wanted." And 
 those at hand heard Cromwell ask, 'Who art thou?' 
 and after a short space he said, ' It is well ; ' and the 
 crowd dispersed, and he went onward with a white, sol 
 emn face, and 't is said he spoke to none for two days 
 afterward. 
 
 "I have heard often, George, that when Oliver was 
 but a lad, a man of wondrous size and clad in shining 
 mail parted the curtains of his bed at midnight and told 
 him, not that he should be king, but that he should be 
 the greatest man in England." 
 
 " Among the hosts of God in heaven Oliver has doubt 
 less many kindred to his soul." 
 
 " And what then, George? " 
 
 " Such kindred are very close to us, and if we will 
 listen they will speak." 
 
 Then Fox kissed and blessed Olivia, and turning to 
 Roger, said in a cheerful voice, " We will part like men
 
 PARTING. 353 
 
 who trust in God, Roger for we know in whom we have 
 believed. And surely what the doleful Jeremiah said 
 in the pit we can say in the sunshine : ' There is none 
 like unto Thee.' " And his clear voice had in it a 
 contagious heat which made their hearts burn within 
 them. 
 
 So Fox went away, but at the door he looked back, 
 and his face was so luminous with hope and blessing 
 that it left a sense of radiance where he had stood. 
 Even when the door was shut, and the darkness had 
 again covered the place, his bright, brave countenance 
 seemed to have impressed so vivid a reflection on the 
 atmosphere that Olivia's soul thrilled to the picture of 
 what it imaged. For miracles are within us, and not 
 without. 
 
 The next day being Wednesday they went to Ply 
 mouth, where it was supposed they might have to wait 
 until the following Monday. But on Thursday evening, 
 just at sunset, Roger entered the room where Olivia and 
 Nathaniel were sitting, and there was the light and 
 strength of some new purpose on his face. He went 
 straight to them, and taking Olivia's hand, said, 
 
 " The hour has come, my daughter. All is ready, and 
 John Woodhouse waits for us with his hand upon the 
 anchor." 
 
 " Roger ! " 
 
 " Father ! " 
 
 "Even so, Nathaniel, and wisely so. Help Olivia 
 with thy strength, and do not weaken her with thy 
 sorrow." 
 
 Then all stood up together. Olivia stretched out her 
 hand for her hood and cloak, and Nathaniel silently 
 brought them. He tied the little black hood under her 
 chin, and clasped her cloak round her throat, and kissed 
 
 23
 
 354 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 again and again the dear face, which in its sombre set 
 ting had a startling pallor and pain. Neither of them 
 uttered a word. Pity and consolation were out of place 
 in the presence of such sorrow ; for had Nathaniel been 
 dressing Olivia for her burial he could have been no 
 more hopeless and heart-broken. 
 
 Roger walked before them through the narrow, busy 
 streets of the town, carrying such light luggage as had 
 not been put on the ship at London. Olivia and 
 Nathaniel followed him. Sailors with their lasses on 
 their arms were filling the evening air with rude laughter 
 and ruder song ; children were playing in the wider 
 spaces ; housewives stood in the doors of their houses 
 gossiping with their neighbours ; men sat smoking be 
 fore the ale-houses, talking of the Protector's sickness, 
 and the likelihood of another war. And no one gave 
 more than a passing notice to the sorrowful couple going 
 so swiftly and silently down to the Long Wall, at which 
 the " Good Intent " lay waiting. 
 
 She was a Whitby boat, built for the Newfoundland 
 fishing, and her captain, John Woodhouse, was one of 
 Roger's converts. Her crew were all Quakers, and her 
 passengers, five men and four women, were exiles for the 
 same faith. John Woodhouse looked at Nathaniel with 
 a slight astonishment, and when he found he did not 
 intend to share their voyage he told him very plainly 
 that wind and tide waited for no man ; " and both are 
 now for us, young sir ; and so if thou wilt step on land 
 quickly we will lift our anchor, and away westward in 
 God's name." 
 
 It was well that all had been said many times over 
 that could be said. There was now neither space nor 
 solitude for private sorrows. Nathaniel wrung Roger's 
 hands, and then looked at Olivia. She cast down her
 
 PARTING. 
 
 355 
 
 eyes and shook her head pitifully ; and then, forgetting 
 all the world but Nathaniel, she clasped her arms around 
 his neck and laid her lips against his. They could not 
 even say each other's name. Feeling had lost language, 
 and their dumb grief tore and lacerated their hearts, 
 seeking for some audible expression. For one supreme 
 moment they suffered as spirits suffer; then Olivia's 
 clasp loosened, her hands dropped downward ; with a 
 great sob she turned to her father, and fell faint and 
 trembling on his breast. 
 
 The old man was weeping for her. He positively, 
 though gently, motioned Nathaniel away; and John 
 Woodhouse, taking his arm, led him to the narrow plank 
 which he was waiting to withdraw. Thus, blind and 
 dumb and dazed with anguish, he stumbled to the sea 
 wall, and leaning upon it, watched the lifting of the 
 anchor and the sailing of the " Good Intent." The 
 wind filled the canvas as soon as it was spread, and 
 Olivia came to the stern of the vessel and stretched out 
 her arms to Nathaniel in a last farewell. They had loos 
 ened her hood while she was struggling with uncon 
 sciousness, and she held it in her hand. Her face was 
 yet clear to him ; he thought she smiled ; he felt some 
 thing, he knew not what, of hope and promise in her 
 attitude ; and he stood, bareheaded, watching, watching, 
 watching, until the gray figure, in the gray evening, was 
 no longer distinguishable. Then over the shaded ocean 
 rushed the night, and the white wings of the ship carried 
 her into the profundities and mysteries of the sky line. 
 The tide was going out like a mill-race, the wind rising 
 rapidly; in ten minutes the " Good Intent " was out of 
 sight, and where was the land ? 
 
 But great sorrows have the privilege of their greatness, 
 and Nathaniel, alone in his room with his sorrow, learned
 
 356 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the marvellous prayer of the breaking heart, that cry 
 which brings the Comforter out from his sanctuary. He 
 received that gift of tears which consoles the burning 
 drought of the wounded soul with its blessed rain. 
 
 He did not return at once to Kelderby. The great 
 Protector lay dying, and he could not bear to desert 
 London in the solemn watch the weeping, fearful city 
 was keeping. And suddenly there began to blow such a 
 hurricane as England never witnessed, either before or 
 since. Throughout the length and breadth of the land, 
 seas and skies were in an inconceivable anarchy and 
 tumult. Furious winds tore up forests by the roots, and 
 unroofed and destroyed multitudes of homes. In the 
 north it had a demoniac fury ; and Kelderby, upon its 
 rocky eyry, was smitten on every side. But Kelderby 
 was well builded, and it took the blows without wincing. 
 Lady Kelder, silent and awestruck, wandered from room 
 to room with the prayer of supplication on her lips. 
 The baron, watching the dreadful majesty of the billowy 
 clouds, felt in his inmost soul a hope that it was the 
 storm heralding the ineffable peace of the millennium. 
 In speechless reverence he waited for the dawning. 
 Surely it would bring the shining of His face ! 
 
 At Chenage the storm broke with terrific destruction. 
 The farm offices were mostly levelled within the first 
 hour, and the ancient trees lay piled like barriers around 
 the house. Anastasia had arrived in the oppressive heat 
 and gloom of the previous day. She was not usually 
 affected by atmospheric influences ; but the weight and 
 darkness, the electric tension, the awful stillness, the wan 
 glare on the horizon, and the boding colour and dread 
 ful look at the zenith, made her restless and fearful. It 
 was impossible to escape the warning written in the air 
 and on the sky, and she wandered from window to
 
 PARTING. 
 
 357 
 
 window watching the paths which led from the sea to 
 the grange. 
 
 Just as the tempest blotted out with passionate fury 
 the space between earth and sky, she saw a man racing 
 through the driving rain and gathering winds. She had 
 the gates flung wide, and she stood trembling within the 
 shaky shelter of the house until he pushed the door open 
 and took her hands. 
 
 " Oh, John, John ! " She said the words in her heart, 
 and John read them in her eyes. But to the servants 
 she cried with a sharp imperativeness, 
 
 " The best room for Captain Latour ; and clothes from 
 the awmrie in the oak chamber ; and see that supper is 
 on the table in fifteen minutes." 
 
 Little she cared now for the roaring wind and the 
 rain lashing the house like whip-thongs. John was safe. 
 As the steward uncorked the Burgundy, and the cook 
 brought in the chief dish, John entered the room. He 
 had on one of Chenage's finest velvet suits, and he 
 directed Anastasia's eyes to it by his look, by his walk, 
 by the air of satisfaction and amusement with which he 
 stroked the velvet sleeve and twirled the ribbon at his 
 wrist. 
 
 " Tt becomes me well enough," he said, looking steadily 
 into her eyes. 
 
 " I thank my stars you are in it, and not the other. 
 How he used to strut when he put it on ! I fall a- 
 laughing when I think on it. Eat and drink, John. 
 Faith, this house is yours, and all that is therein." 
 
 " A nice lonely place it is. You could play the devil 
 here, Asia, and neither man nor devil find you out." 
 
 "At this present, I assure you, every servant is at my 
 disposal ; and I have been so wise as to quarrel with all 
 my acquaintances. Remember you are Captain Latour,
 
 358 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 on his Majesty's business, God bless the king ! His 
 name covers many affairs he knows nothing of. Lord, 
 but the wind blows ! I vow, I am afraid of it. Hark, 
 how the trees are crashing ! 'T will be a miracle if the 
 house endures. John, I am frightened." 
 
 " No wonder. I never heard a more devilish pother. 
 I wish I was in mid-ocean all trig and tight. Then I 
 would enjoy such a passion of wind. I would be lashed 
 to the wheel, and buffet the bully. Lord, Asia ! I have 
 been out in winds that you could lean against, as if they 
 were a wall. I have heard them shriek curses into my 
 ears, and given them a full tale back again. I would 
 rather fight a mad wind than a Spanish slaver ; I swear I 
 would ! " 
 
 He was looking at Anastasia with a kindling face as he 
 spoke, taking in with a sense of satisfaction the beauty of 
 her person, the elegance of her dress, the pallor of her 
 face ; for he liked to feel that she feared where he 
 exulted. The sense of superiority was necessary to the 
 development of John de Burg's amiability. 
 
 " There 's a shriek, Asia ; a shriek from some poor 
 devil on that bare, blasted moor outside." 
 
 " It is inside ; the woman I told you about, Audrey." 
 
 "Is she really mad? or even mad nor'-nor'-west? " 
 
 " Mad at all points, and however the wind blow. I 
 wanted something to do this afternoon, and I went to 
 her and helped her to reckon over her sins. Mad ! She 
 spit at me like a she-devil. Mad, of course ! No woman 
 in her senses would have found out the truth, but Audrey 
 told me the all of it this afternoon." 
 
 "Then she is dangerously mad?" 
 
 " Ay, extremely so." 
 
 She looked inquisitively at John. She was anxious to 
 know several things he could tell her, but she was aware
 
 PARTING. 
 
 359 
 
 that John would speak only in his own way and at his 
 own time. Besides, the servants were passing in and out, 
 and their conversation was necessarily broken and min 
 gled with many formalities and political allusions. 
 
 As dinner progressed the storm increased until conver 
 sation became difficult. John bent over the hearth, and 
 smoked in silence. Anastasia watched him from the 
 couch on which she lay. She was white and trembling 
 with fear and anxiety. She was cold also, for the rain, 
 pouring down the wide chimney, had put out the 
 fire. 
 
 " Better so," muttered John. " This wind would blow 
 the fire over the room. We are not ready to burn the 
 house yet. I am just planning for many a jolly day in it. 
 I told him I was coming here. I told him I was coming to 
 drink his wines, and wear his clothes, and collect his rents. 
 He did not like it. He went into a damnable passion ; 
 he ought to have known better by this time." 
 
 " Then he still lives? Oh, John, John ! " 
 
 "He lives for me, not for you." 
 
 " I want to be free ! I want to be free ! When will 
 you set me free?" 
 
 " When does Roger Prideaux sail ? " 
 
 " He has already sailed." 
 
 "That angel Olivia, is she with him?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Never trust me if I tell you not the truth." 
 
 " The name of the ship ? " 
 
 "The 'Good Intent.'" 
 
 " Very good. 'T is contrary to my humour, but you 
 shall be free ere I take the ' Good Intent.' Roger Chenage 
 must not be on the same ship as Roger Prideaux. If you 
 want to marry Southport, put him off for six weeks, and
 
 360 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 then make yourself Countess Anastasia. It will be a 
 legal marriage by that time." 
 
 "What will you do with Prideaux? " 
 
 " Concern not yourself with the matter. Have you 
 found out what money he will have with him ? " 
 
 " The price of Sandys, at least. Seven other Quakers 
 go with them. All have money; three of them have 
 wives." 
 
 " Faith, I have no objection to either the money or 
 the women." 
 
 "As to Saint Olivia, John? " 
 
 " I shall marry her." 
 
 "John!" 
 
 " With your gracious leave." 
 
 She laughed with a mirthful wickedness. " It pleases 
 me mightily. When the bride is won, send me the news 
 and a garland." 
 
 The last words were hardly distinguishable in the ter 
 rific roaring of the wind. It was the reasonable wind 
 gone mad, and howling in its lunacy with all the myriad 
 shrieks it knew. John lifted his head to listen. Anas 
 tasia drew her mantle close around her throat and cow 
 ered among the pillows of the sofa. Suddenly there was 
 a cry more awful than that of any wailing or shouting of 
 the wind, a cry of despairing humanity for salvation ; 
 and ere it died away it was lost in the crash of falling 
 masonry. 
 
 Anastasia leaped to her feet. A mortal terror was in 
 her face, though her tongue refused to speak. The next 
 moment the servants rushed into the room, and John 
 faced them with an angry calmness. 
 
 " What a parcel of craven rogues you be ! Do you 
 think the Devil has come for you ? Get me a lantern." 
 
 " Mistress, 't is the west wall and chimney the poor
 
 PARTING. 361 
 
 mad woman ! 'T was her death cry. Indeed it was ! " 
 The speaker was the house-steward Jervis, and John 
 answered him sternly, 
 
 " Then get a lantern, and go with me to find her." 
 
 " Captain, I dare not go out this night. Ten thousand 
 devils are abroad. I will die under cover." 
 
 " You are a fool ! Bring me a light." 
 
 His face was lowering and scornful, and it terrified the 
 trembling servants more than the storm did. They went 
 back to the kitchen like animals whipped past some ter 
 rifying object. In a few minutes Jervis returned with the 
 lantern, and sobbing with terror ; yet not daring to refuse 
 the imperious motion of John's hand, he was forced to 
 accompany him to the scene of the disaster. 
 
 Anastasia stood by her sofa, resting one hand upon it, 
 and listening intently. If it was the west wall, where 
 was Audrey? She had been chained to it. Had she 
 gone down with it? If so, she was doubtless killed. 
 The thought was a relief. Revenge is sweet only in its 
 first moments, and there is no escaping its consequences. 
 Audrey had become an anxiety. She dared not free the 
 woman. She would talk. She would rouse suspicions. 
 She would invent accusations. In short, she might make 
 unknown trouble, She had wished Audrey dead very 
 often; what if the storm had really killed her? She 
 asked herself the question with a good deal of honesty. 
 
 " I shall be hugely obliged to it," she answered the 
 spirit within her ; and while she was musing on the 
 probability, John returned to the room. Something in 
 his face satisfied her before he spoke. 
 
 "The west wall has indeed fallen, Mistress Chenage, 
 and also the chimney built against it. Jervis tells me that 
 a poor servant who was mad must have gone with it." 
 
 " Poor Audrey ! Have you not tried to reach her ? "
 
 362 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " 'T is impossible, Mistress ! Nothing could live a 
 moment in this storm. Audrey is dead, and 't is a mercy 
 to her. Mistress, she was mad as a March hare." 
 
 " Find out whether she is certainly dead. Take your 
 fellows, and make it certain." 
 
 "God's pardon for all, Mistress. It would be self- 
 murder. We should be mad as the mad woman to try it." 
 
 " You are a cruel lot of varlets. Go and drink some 
 more beer, and try not to die of fright ere the daylight 
 come." 
 
 She spoke with a withering scorn, and the man slunk 
 out of her presence. Anger, shame, and a certain feeling 
 of injustice blended with his terror, but he was too slavish 
 to analyze his feelings ; he preferred to do as his mistress 
 had divined he would do, bury them in a beer jack. 
 
 When they were alone, Anastasia turned quickly to her 
 brother. " Are we in any danger? " 
 
 " Seriously, none at all. The west rooms are evidently 
 a later addition. This portion of the house is as solid as 
 the hills around it. I '11 wager my ship that old beldam 
 is out of life." 
 
 " I am glad on it." 
 
 " Take some wine. To say truth, you are liker a ghost 
 than I care to see." He himself then drank a goblet 
 of Burgundy, and wrapping his cloak around him, he sat 
 down by his sister's side. 
 
 "Asia, as soon as daylight breaks I shall go. I like 
 not the land. There are a thousand dangers on it that 
 never put out to sea. Anon will come the coroner, and 
 men and women with him, and I will stand question from 
 no man." 
 
 " John, take this from me. In a little while you shall 
 fear a question from no man. Old Noll lay dying when 
 I left London. I have been twice to Paris this year, and
 
 PARTING. 363 
 
 I tell you very frankly the king is most entirely my ser 
 vant. At my next going I will bring back with me a full 
 reversal of all acts against you." 
 
 " Faith, I think what I have done against Noll's gov 
 ernment may balance what injury Carolus Rex had to 
 complain of." 
 
 " I '11 swear it, twenty times over. And you shall have 
 a captaincy in the navy, if you lean that way." 
 
 " Not I. I '11 take a license as a privateer, and give 
 you a thousand pounds for it. Asia, get me all you say, 
 and it is two thousand pounds for it." 
 
 " And then, John, you can come when and how you 
 like to see me, and what else you desire." 
 
 " I can pay a few debts I owe. I can fight to better 
 purpose when I fight openly. I can even follow Nutt's 
 example, and play the devil at sea, and build me a fine 
 house on shore, and go to church, and wear white linen." 
 
 "And marry a saint." 
 
 He laughed, but there was a tone in the laugh Anas- 
 tasia did not like. Was it possible that her brother was 
 really in love with the Quaker girl ? How she hated her ! 
 Then she let her thoughts wander into all sorts of unholy 
 suppositions, the probable fate of Olivia, her own cer 
 tain release from Audrey, her contemplated traffic with 
 the king ; and as she mused she regained her usual bold 
 reliance upon herself and her fortune. 
 
 John was employed in much the same manner. Folded 
 in his cloak, he walked slowly up and down the room, 
 stopping frequently at the table to fill his glass with the 
 rich red wine and silently drink it. And still the wind 
 shrieked, and the rain beat the house on every side ; and 
 still on the mad gusts were brought the despairing cries of 
 dogs and horses only partly sheltered, and now and then 
 the sound of crashing timber.
 
 364 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Hour after hour wore away in such desultory conversa 
 tion and thoughtful pauses. The room grew very cold as 
 the night wore on, and the guttering candles made only 
 a fitful light. Toward the morning John said, 
 
 " The wind will go seaward with the out-going tide. 
 You may sleep now. In an hour or two I shall make 
 for the coast. My ship is in a land-locked harbour, but 
 she must have suffered. When do you go to London? " 
 
 " As soon as may be. 'T is a time when moments 
 may change lives, and my father will be most impatient 
 at my absence." 
 
 "How fares De Burg?" 
 
 "Well. He hath lacked nothing in the Tower but 
 freedom ; and I trow he thinks as he will, though he 
 cannot do as he will." 
 
 " How takes he your widowhood ? " 
 
 " With a great contentment. The thought of Appleby 
 puts him ever in a fury of hatred, and I think he would 
 certainly forgive you all, if he but knew all." 
 
 " I want not his forgiveness. Speak nothing of me." 
 
 She was standing with her face raised to his. All men 
 must have something to love, and John had no kindred 
 but his sister. He drew her to his breast and kissed her 
 with a great affection. He thanked her for all that she 
 had done, and all she intended to do ; he assured her of 
 her real freedom, and bade her farewell with a genuine 
 emotion. When she left the room he followed her into 
 the hall, and watched her pretty figure slowly climbing 
 the steep stair in the wavering feeble light of the shaded 
 candle which she carried. Her long robe of velvet 
 trailed far behind ; her dark cloak was drawn close 
 round her throat. And when he called again, " Farewell, 
 Asia ! " she turned and faced him, and her face shone 
 clear and fair, and she kissed her white hand to him as
 
 PARTING. 365 
 
 he stood in the gloom below. Then he went back into 
 the room with a sob in his throat and a warmth at his 
 heart which made . him straighten himself and ask 
 hopefully, 
 
 " Well, then, what next? " 
 
 He drew his brows together and set himself intently 
 to think out his course. He expected his own ship to 
 be more or less injured by the wind, but the " Good In 
 tent " was only a merchant vessel, and all merchant vessels 
 were slow and heavy in comparison with his own ; for in 
 her everything had been sacrificed to speed. Even 
 though he had been delayed beyond his intention, he was 
 certain of overtaking his prize. He had the whole At 
 lantic before him. He did not intend to molest the 
 " Good Intent " until she was near the American coast. 
 In his mind's eye he saw the precise locality in which 
 the meeting would suit him best, and he resolved to 
 steer directly for it. 
 
 At dawn the wind had lulled considerably, but the day 
 was stormy enough, and his own horse had been injured 
 during the night. He had the best the stable afforded, and 
 in the first shivering daylight he passed beyond the gates 
 of Chenage. "The king's business is urgent,' 1 he said, 
 as he gave the hostler his fee ; and he was conscious 
 of a great relief when the iron gates clashed behind him. 
 
 " 'T is a cursed hole to stay in," he muttered ; " and 
 I wish to the Devil Asia were out of it." 
 
 But Asia did not find it prudent for some days to show 
 hurry in the matter. Audrey's death caused some un 
 pleasant talk. It was remembered that Mistress Chenage 
 had said all the servants had been discharged, and 
 people were curious enough to wonder why nothing had 
 been said of Audrey's lunacy. However, Anastasia told 
 her story well at the inquest, and her servants confirmed
 
 366 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 all she chose to say. The country was tossed upside 
 down with the storm, and men's hearts were trembling in 
 that sough of evil rumour which affirmed more positively 
 every hour that the great Protector was dead. 
 
 Three days after this event was certain, she found it 
 convenient and possible to return to London with all 
 speed. At the small village of Hayburn, about twenty 
 miles south of Kelderby, she stopped to bait her horses. 
 As she sat at the open window of the inn a young man 
 rode up to the door. It was Nathaniel Kelder. She 
 watched him dismount, and as he stamped his numb feet 
 upon the flags of the court she told herself that he was 
 by all odds the handsomest lover she had ever had. She 
 could not resist the passionate desire she felt to speak to 
 him, though his face was full of sorrow and thought, and 
 his manner grave and preoccupied. 
 
 A sudden plan came into her mind, and without a mo 
 ment's hesitation she called him, Her voice was low 
 and full of remorseful inflections. Nathaniel approached 
 the window, and this time he removed his hat for a mo 
 ment as he stood before her. 
 
 "Nathaniel, I am a very unhappy woman. I have 
 done wrong, but 't was out of my love for you, and I 
 pray you forgive me ! " 
 
 He looked at the penitent doubtfully. Her eyes were 
 downcast, tears were slowly overflowing them ; her whole 
 aspect was mournful and humble. She put out her hand 
 timidly, and then, sighing, slowly withdrew it. Her ex 
 periences at Chenage had worried and wearied her ; she 
 had not dressed herself for conquest ; on the whole, she 
 had the appearance of veritable contrition. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Nathaniel. To say truth, I am heart 
 broken. Forgive me ! I make it a case of conscience 
 to you."
 
 PARTING. 367 
 
 There was a slight hesitation in Nathaniel's manner, 
 but after it he spoke with a singular gentleness, 
 
 ' I am glad, my cousin, to hear your speech. God 
 pardon you, as I do also. And indeed I am most sure 
 that even those whom you have injured will be very for 
 giving to you ; Olivia " 
 
 " I ask not her pardon, sir ; yours, and yours only. 
 Nathaniel, 't was my love for you that led me so far." 
 
 " Mistress Chenage, it becomes not you to speak such 
 words, nor yet me to listen to them. I pray you excuse 
 me." 
 
 " You shall hear me, Nathaniel." 
 
 " I crave your pardon, Mistress." 
 
 " Call me ' Asia.' " 
 
 "The time for that has passed away. You are the 
 wife, or the widow, of another man. I am the promised 
 husband of another woman." 
 
 "Of Olivia Prideaux?" 
 
 He bowed, and a bright flush overspread his face. 
 For a moment his whole appearance changed. 
 
 " Do you think I discovered my faults to you for this 
 piece of news ? Let me tell you soberly I am sorry for 
 nothing that I have done. I shall make haste to do still 
 more evil to that woman ! that preaching woman ! I 
 will have her ruined. I will have her killed. Do you 
 hear, sir? You are the most ill-bred man in England. 
 You are " she suddenly ceased. Nathaniel had passed 
 out of her sight, out of the sound of her railing. What 
 had she done ? Humbled herself for nought. " Oh, oh, 
 oh ! " She stamped her foot, and struck her hands to 
 gether, and bit her fingers in her chagrin and anger. 
 
 On Nathaniel the encounter made a most unpleasant 
 impression. But there was one comfort, he was near- 
 ing home ; and never had the thought of his father's
 
 368 FRIEA'D OLIVIA. 
 
 counsel and his mother's love been more welcome. It 
 was yet afternoon when he arrived there. His first 
 glance at the old house was full of fear, but he smiled at 
 the fear the next moment. The storm had not injured a 
 flag of it, yet the number of ancient trees lying prostrate 
 told him something of its severity. There was so much 
 to tell that, as he sat and talked, the daylight waned, and 
 Jael brought in the lights and the last meal. And she 
 looked at the three serious faces on the hearth and won 
 dered what new sorrow Nathaniel had brought back with 
 him. 
 
 "Go from home he will," she said fretfully to herself; 
 " and God knows them that wander get many a gliff of 
 sorrow. But Nathaniel Kelder must outside, and no wall 
 high enough to hinder." 
 
 His sad face made her " fit to cry ; " and Lady Kelder 
 took advantage of the comfortable sympathy to let a few 
 drops down fall over her perplexities and anticipations. 
 She was sitting before the fire in her own room, and Jael 
 was slowly combing and brushing her long white hair. 
 
 " Cromwell dead ! And only God Almighty knows 
 what is to come after, Jael." 
 
 " He went his way in a great storm, my Lady, 'T is 
 said the Devil raised it, disputing about his soul; a 
 mighty whaff-whaft, truly." 
 
 "Wherein was his soul so special, Jael? If the Devil 
 took his own in tempests, God knows there would be 
 neither seed-time nor harvest for good men. The storm 
 broke three days before Cromwell's death, and he went 
 away in the afternoon sunshine ; and moreover, a great 
 rainbow spanned Whitehall while he lay a- dying. My 
 son Nathaniel, who saw it, surely ought to know." 
 
 "Well, my Lady, I stand in hand to side with you 
 always. But Joe Milman, he says Minister Duttred made
 
 PARTING. 369 
 
 a great matter of the storm. He told how the Devil dis 
 puted with angels about the body of Moses, and, said he, 
 more likely about the soul of Cromwell ; for at a good 
 man's death-bed Satan must roar, or forever hold his 
 peace. And roar he did, my Lady, both on sea and 
 land." 
 
 " And yet for all he roared to a cross purpose, Jael. 
 Cromwell cared not for the storm, but lay in peace all 
 through it. Faith, we are more out of pocket than 
 Cromwell was out of heart. Twenty cottages unroofed 
 in the upper village, and in lower Kelderby the sea in 
 possession total. If 't was indeed the Devil's doing, why 
 did he not unroof Whitehall? A sore miss, Jael. He 
 came not nigh his dying-bed ; 't was too well guarded. 
 Little wit has the great Devil. Had he put Elizabeth 
 Cromwell in a fretful, fearful temper at her husband's 
 bedside, she would have done his spiteful errand for 
 him." 
 
 " Well, my Lady, I pray he give not us some shrewd 
 parting blow at the last hour." 
 
 " Never fear him. If our souls are in God's keeping, 
 God must be wounded ere we can be prejudiced. 'T is 
 not death, but life, that is the hard battle. If Richard 
 Cromwell keep not hold of the sceptre, and Richard 
 Cromwell is a simpleton, then Kelderby stands in the 
 wind of Charles Stuart's say-so. And what is to become 
 of us? We cannot beg; the baron is too old to work." 
 
 " Be as brave for life as for death, my Lady ! The 
 God that feeds the ravens will not starve the Kelders. 
 And Master Nathaniel " 
 
 " Master Nathaniel is wholly and most perversely 
 taken up with that Quaker girl. I thank God she is now 
 far on the Atlantic Ocean. y 
 
 " My Lady, if Master Nathaniel would but stay quiet 
 24
 
 3/0 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 in Kelderby ! It takes a long time for trouble to find a 
 man out in his own home. On the king's highway any 
 turn may bring them together." 
 
 " You speak truth, Jael. Had he been at Kelderby, 
 he had not met Mistress Chenage to-day, and then no 
 bad words had been between them. If Charles Stuart 
 comes back, she moves him at her pleasure, so 't i? 
 freely said. An ill woman to quarrel with." 
 
 " An ill woman to be friends with ; say that, my Lady. 
 And as for holding Kelderby at any one's pleasure, I 
 trust you know better than that. There is One that 
 orders both kings and women. I would n't be put 
 about for nothing. And it is ill luck to speak of ill. 
 My mother used to say to me, ' Jael, my lass, say no 
 ill of the year till the year be past.' " 
 
 " Well, well ! Put down the blind, Jael, and let me 
 sleep, and so forget for a little that I live. Surely we 
 shut our bedroom door and rehearse death every night." 
 
 " I know not, my Lady. Sleep has its own life. Will 
 dead folks dream? " 
 
 She was pulling down the blind as she spoke, and 
 she paused in the act, and looking upward said softly, 
 " There 's a fine new moon, God bless her ! "
 
 XVIII. 
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 
 
 " Do darkness and terror plot against you ? 
 
 We also plan. 
 
 They that love you are stronger than your haters ; 
 Trust God, O man 1 " 
 
 "He kept him as the apple of his eye." 
 " Deep calleth unto deep." 
 
 ICWEN in Cromwell's time the Quakers were remark- 
 *+* able for their commercial integrity and prosperity. 
 They succeeded in business just as the Puritans suc 
 ceeded in war. Carnal traders were as inferior to them 
 as Rupert's dragoons were to Cromwell's Ironsides. For 
 it is the natural consequence of a life divided sharply 
 into two halves, spiritual and secular, to incline those 
 who so divide it to a methodical strictness in the inferior 
 sphere. Commercial energy and rectitude is the earthly 
 expression of spiritual energy and sincerity ; opposite 
 sides of the wheel, truly, but having a point of union in 
 the centre. 
 
 Roger Prideaux's heart was burning with love to God 
 find sympathy for God's oppressed children ; and from 
 this very intensity of spiritual regard sprang a solicitude 
 and care as to their earthly welfare which was almost 
 minute in character. The ship, the captain, the crew, 
 the provisions, every item concerning the proposed exile, 
 was settled with all the prudence and consideration of one
 
 372 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 who believed the steps of a good man to be " ordered," 
 and who desired to second and follow that ordering. 
 
 God works in man but not instead of him, he said ; 
 and he had waited for the promptings of this Divine 
 Guide, listening for direct mandates, doing nothing till 
 " led," walking only as the way opened. His first inten 
 tions had been toward Boston, but he had seen, in a 
 vision of fire, "the intolerant city," and heard a voice 
 say, " Go to the southward ; " and immediately, being 
 thus warned, he had turned his thoughts to the Dutch 
 plantation of New Amsterdam. 
 
 As far as possible all human precautions for safety had 
 been taken. The paper which Fox had brought from 
 Cromwell was a safe warrant to pass through the New 
 England settlements and buy land and reside thereon, 
 and his former business relationships had enabled him 
 to send the main portion of the moneys belonging to 
 himself and his friends, through letters of credit, to the 
 governor of New Amsterdam. The western sea was 
 infested with pirates, and with privateers little better 
 than pirates ; and he thought it well to pass through it 
 in a condition of poverty which offered nothing to pro 
 voke their cupidity or their cruelty. 
 
 They left London on the last day of August, a 
 company of five men and four women ; the latter being 
 Olivia Prideaux, Mary Woodhouse, the wife of the cap 
 tain, and Anna Copeland, who was going on a mission 
 as the Lord should direct her. The " Good Intent " was 
 a stanch ship, manned by godly men, and she went gal 
 lantly out with a fair wind blowing. 
 
 For many weeks the voyage was an exceptionally 
 pleasant one. Several of the party had just been re 
 leased from dark and noisome prisons ; their wrists and 
 ankles still kept the mark of the irons, and on their
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 373 
 
 bodies were the cruel tokens of the scourge. The 
 boundless freedom, the fresh winds, the peace, the 
 safety, the rapture of their private communion, the re 
 freshment of their mutual worship, set every heart to a 
 song of joy and praise ; and the words of their salutation 
 were, " It is good to be here." 
 
 Only Olivia had an occasional air of sadness. She 
 could not forget her last parting with her lover. The 
 noble restraint of his grief; his hopeful words; the tears 
 that blinded his last gaze into her face ; the sad smiles 
 with which he brightened their last words ; the lingering 
 clasp of his hands ; his tall, mournful figure turning so 
 reluctantly away, all these appeals to her memory re 
 called a thousand other incidents still more tender. 
 
 She was very quiet, and she sat much alone. She had 
 moments o r repining at her lot, and then hours of bitter 
 sorrow for them. She was fighting a harder battle than 
 any of the martyrs around her had fought, for it is easier 
 to endure than it is to resign. She believed that God 
 had said to her, " Give me thy heart ; put out of it all 
 lesser loves ; " and she was trying to obey him. 
 
 " Trust in God. He is but proving thee. At the last 
 he will give thee the desire of thy heart." Such comfort 
 her father offered her, but she could not take it. 
 Olivia's aspiration of a divine obedience touched a 
 higher key; she would not render God a resignation 
 which was grounded upon a hope of future self-happi 
 ness. -She sought after that self-abnegation which finds 
 in the act of utter surrender its highest joy. 
 
 And when the soul is forced solely in one direction, it 
 gains new powers in that direction. Dead to earth, 
 earth vanishes to it, and heaven is really begun. These 
 days of calm summer sailing upon sunny seas were days 
 of inward struggle, of spiritual defeats and victories, to
 
 3/4 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Olivia. There was no wonder that she was silent, and 
 that her soul in the neighbourhood of eternities had a 
 seriousness beyond the issues of time. 
 
 One day, after a week of exquisite weather, the little 
 congregation on the " Good Intent " met on deck in the 
 midst of a hot, languorous haze. The clouds hung low 
 and gray. The ocean's leaden colour was broken only by 
 those long lines of pale light often seen at sea before an 
 electric storm. The gloom of thunder was in the air. 
 For two days a ship had been in their wake. It still 
 hovered on the horizon, looking, through the hazy light, 
 like a gigantic phantom in its winding-sheet. The infi 
 nite solitude of the colourless waste, the silence, the heavy 
 depressing atmosphere, affected the most cheerful of the 
 party. There was a dead calm. Every one was sensi 
 ble of the warning written in the air, and on the seetta 
 ing sea, and on the brooding sky. 
 
 The captain stood by the wheel, his large blue eyes 
 gazing steadily into the horizon. All at once, as if by 
 magic, the wind rose, and the ship in their wake was 
 plainly seen to be bearing down on the " Good Intent." 
 
 " She is a slaver or a pirate," said the captain ; " the 
 kind are familiarly known to me. As matters now stand 
 it is like to be a fight or a ransom." 
 
 " Thou knowest well we cannot fight, John Wood- 
 house." 
 
 " It seemeth just and reasonable, Roger, to defend the 
 ship ; not a year ago I did it, and saved many lives." 
 
 " Different now, John. Thou hast learned a higher 
 lesson. Canst thou overcome evil with evil?" 
 
 "I have sailed my ship for fifteen years;" and he 
 gazed sadly upward to her tapering spars. 
 
 "John, when Christ disarmed Peter, he disarmed every 
 one calling themselves Christians. Wilt thou take a
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 375 
 
 sword in thy hand when thou art forbidden even to go 
 to law?" 
 
 About three in the afternoon the ships were within 
 speaking distance, and Olivia standing by her father's 
 side watched the movements of the men on deck. 
 
 "There is John de Burg," she said in a low voice. 
 " It must be his ship, Father. Do not leave me ; " and 
 she slipped her hand into his. " Whatever happens, 
 life or death, do not leave me. There are worse 
 things come to women than death." 
 
 The ships were now close together, and a rattling shot 
 suddenly fired across the bows of the " Good Intent " was 
 a command Captain Woodhouse could not mistake. He 
 stood midship, a big upright figure in the precise plain 
 coat and tall hat of his day, and he answered the shot 
 by a sharp call, 
 
 "What dost thou want? " 
 
 " Alongside." 
 
 The answer was returned with a curt authority that 
 demanded either a prompt obedience or a prompt re 
 sistance ; and obedience of this kind was a new lesson 
 to John Woodhouse. He made so little haste that the 
 order was repeated with blasphemous force. 
 
 " Thou must submit to circumstances, John. Fear 
 not. God will direct them." 
 
 But John looked at Roger with a resentful acqui 
 escence. He longed for the arms he had not brought 
 with him. In a few minutes the " Good Intent " lay along 
 side, and the grappling-irons secured her unwilling com 
 pany. As the two vessels came together with a slight 
 shock John de Burg and his lieutenant Pastro leaped 
 upon the deck of the " Good Intent." John was dressed 
 with a brutal carelessness, his legs naked to the knees, 
 the sleeves of his waistcoat turned up to his shoulders,
 
 3/6 FRIEND OLIVIAi, 
 
 and his red, hairy chest showing behind his open shirt. 
 Upon his head he wore a Turkish fez, a covering famil 
 iar enough now, but at that day associated with outrage 
 and piracy and all the crimes of heathendom. 
 
 In the act of leaping he saw Olivia, and with an inso 
 lent politeness he lifted his scarlet cap and vowed she 
 was handsomer than ever, and that he was vastly glad to 
 see her. And as he spoke his fierce black eyes were 
 roving over the ship, though he was uncomfortably con 
 scious of the resolute look with which Roger Prideaux 
 was regarding him. 
 
 " I am truly sorry to meet thee again in such ill fash 
 ion, De Burg. I thought better of thee at Sandys." 
 
 He did not answer Roger, but, calling the captain, in 
 an imperative voice demanded of him, 
 
 " What ransom will you pay for yourself and your ship ? " 
 
 " I will ransom my whole company, or I will share 
 their fate." 
 
 " Mistress Prideaux is beyond ransom. I have not 
 followed her over the Atlantic to sell her. She will give 
 me her hand, and so save the life of her father." 
 
 " Roger Prideaux will hold his life at no such shame 
 ful price." 
 
 " Roger Prideaux cannot help himself." 
 
 Then Olivia looked at him steadily. "John de Burg," 
 she said, " once, for God's sake, we saved thy life. If 
 thou hast forgotten the grace, God will remember." 
 
 " Ah, my sweet beauty, have you yet to learn how far 
 off God Almighty takes himself when he is wanted? " 
 
 " He is a very present help." 
 
 " He will need to be, I assure you ! " 
 
 He spoke passionately, and as he did so turned to 
 Captain Woodhouse. " Ransom your ship at four thou 
 sand pounds, or she goes to the bottom."
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE, 377 
 
 " I have not four thousand pence." 
 
 " What moneys have your passengers? " 
 
 "About one hundred pounds." 
 
 " Damnation ! Will one hundred pounds pay me ? 
 I trow not. I will sell all of you to the Norfolk planta 
 tion. You are felons, thieves, and the like ; fit for 
 nothing but to be flogged through the tobacco field." 
 
 " We are honest, God-fearing men ; exiles for faith 
 and conscience." 
 
 " Faith and conscience ! You are a pack of rogues 
 and scoundrels, and you shall be sold as such. Let me 
 look at the women : reasonably pretty, eh, Pastro? We 
 can give them a free passage, I think." 
 
 " My captain is too good to them." 
 
 Then De Burg turned to Prideaux. "Friend Roger, 
 I hear you have the price of Sandys with you. I want 
 it." 
 
 " I have not a penny of it by me." 
 
 " What have you done with it? " 
 
 " It is beyond thy touch." 
 
 " Have you sent it by letter? " 
 
 " Yea, by letter." 
 
 "Answer me to the purpose. For every answer that 
 is aside from it I will fling one of your number into the 
 sea. Pastro, the captain will go first." 
 
 Then John Woodhouse said in a clear, brave voice, 
 " Roger, answer nothing that seems wrong to thee. I 
 fear neither death nor what comes after death." 
 
 "To whom did you send the money? " 
 
 " To Peter Stuyvesant, Governor of New Amsterdam." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 " Six thousand pounds of my own money." 
 
 " How much that is not your own ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell thee that."
 
 378 FRIEND OLIVIA: 
 
 He made a movement of his head, and Roger~saw 
 that John Woodhouse was in danger. 
 
 " Stay ! " he cried. " There are five thousand pounds 
 belonging to those with me." 
 
 " Eleven thousand pounds in all. You shall give me 
 your evidence, and you shall write a letter authorizing 
 me to collect this money." 
 
 " I will not do so wickedly. What say you, Friends ? 
 Will you give your money to serve the Devil with, and 
 also your bodies into slavery? " 
 
 There was a momentary inquisition, and Roger saw 
 his answer in every face. 
 
 " I will give thee no such authority." 
 
 "Then I will hang you at the yard-arm; and I will 
 make of your daughter a thing too vile for life." 
 
 Roger turned to his daughter. Her face was lifted 
 above its natural poise, and her tall, slight figure had a 
 superlative dignity as she answered his look of question 
 ing anguish : " Father, thou must do right. There is 
 none that can make me vile." 
 
 " I will give you three minutes to decide." 
 
 During this conversation an ominous silence and 
 gloom had been gradually gathering. The wind had 
 fallen as suddenly as it had risen. A fierce, breathless 
 heat brooded over the dark sea. The black clouds were 
 like a roof of hot iron above them. The company of 
 the "Good Intent " stood each a little apart. In that su 
 preme moment there was only One to whom they could 
 appeal. Olivia was at her father's side ; she was hold 
 ing his hand, but that was only a symbol. Through the 
 darkness and terror she was feeling for the hands upon 
 the palms of which her name was graven, the Almighty 
 hands, which 'could bring salvation. 
 
 De Burg walked from the mainmast to the capstan,
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 379 
 
 where he stood insolently, with his foot against the an 
 chor chain. And in that interval Olivia's soul had tra 
 versed the sidereal spaces, and in a momentary calenture 
 of faith and love refuged herself and her companions 
 in the care of the Omnipotent. 
 
 Neither had the men Friends been indifferent to their 
 position. A glance full of intelligence, passing like a 
 flash from face to face, informed each soul with the same 
 purpose. They had no weapons, they would not fight ; 
 but in the arms of every father and husband who stood 
 there was the glow of a strength which would not suffer 
 a finger to be laid upon their dear ones. They were 
 ready at a word, a movement, to stand as a living wall 
 before them ; quite ready and willing to put both De 
 Burg and Pastro back upon the deck of their own ship. 
 
 The moments so pregnant with emotion and decision 
 to the human element were also moments of preponder 
 ating gravity for the position of the two ships. The 
 storm was gathering with such rapidity that De Burg 
 waited not his own span of delay. He looked impera 
 tively at Roger, and cried, " Go quickly ! Write me 
 the order on Peter Stuyvesant." 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 " A rope and a noose, Pastro. As for you, my 
 beauty " 
 
 "You shall not touch me. God is between us." 
 
 " Faith ! he must step aside, then." 
 
 He stretched out his arms as if to embrace her ; his 
 fierce eyes were fixed greedily upon her person ; but at 
 the same moment a flash of vivid lightning tore apart 
 the black, low-hanging clouds, and as De Burg essayed 
 to move he fell like one dead. 
 
 Then Pastro sprung to his side, and with a great cry 
 lifted the limp, nerveless body, and leaped with it into
 
 380 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 De Burg's own ship. Fortunately, the movement was 
 an incredibly swift one; for as he did so the sea rose, 
 not in waves, but as if lifted bodily upward in one black, 
 tremendous, heaving mass. The grappling-irons parted 
 like straws. The ships were driven far asunder. Then 
 the wind begar. to blow as if by signal. In a moment 
 it was a hurricane, and the lightning flash which had 
 smitten De Burg was but the preluding one of a storm 
 that tore the heavens with an incessant fire ; while the 
 thunder, and the roar of the wind, and the mighty sigh 
 ing of the great surges, made a noise that beat with 
 deafening reverberations. 
 
 But amid all the clamour of the elements there was 
 peace in the little cabin of the "Good Intent." And 
 when the storm was over, there was not a sign of their 
 enemy. The next morning they were under blue skies, 
 a soft wind was blowing, and the sharp savour of salt in 
 the air was blended with sweet scents from the nearing 
 land. That day a bird rested upon their rigging, and 
 told them in a sylvan song that he was scarce a day's 
 flight out of the woods. And so it proved ; for within 
 thirty hours they touched Long Island, and found a 
 shady creek, into which they entered with great joy. 
 
 The following day Roger, accompanied by John Wood- 
 house, went over to New Amsterdam to see the gover 
 nor. They found him walking in the garden of his 
 handsome house at the Whitehall, and easily arranged 
 with him the business relating to the transfer of the 
 moneys in his charge. He had no suspicion that his 
 visitors were Quakers. Their dress was not in that day 
 remarkable ; and the use of " thee " and " thou " was 
 familiar to all Dutchmen, who thought in Dutch and 
 translated their thoughts into English. 
 
 But as soon as Roger began to speak of buying land
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 381 
 
 and forming a settlement of refuge for the persecuted 
 people of God, Stuyvesant answered him angrily. He 
 was then in dispute with the New England colonies on 
 a question of boundary, and anxious to avoid an appeal 
 to arms ; and Captain Willett, a persecuting magistrate 
 of Plymouth, was at that very time in New Amsterdam 
 regarding the matter. Now, Captain Willett had one 
 idea in his diplomatic mission, the conversion of Stuy 
 vesant to the cruel policy of Massachusetts with regard 
 to the Quakers. 
 
 This policy was in direct contravention to the express 
 orders of the colonial proprietaries and the universal 
 feeling of the people ; nor were injustice and intolerance 
 personally besetting sins of the clever, mercenary Hol 
 lander. He had been nursed and reared in the land 
 of religious liberty ; and in his heart he was angry at the 
 necessity for conciliating Captain Willett, and at the 
 Quakers for being the occasion of a violation of his 
 principles. For if a man have a conscience, he hates 
 not only the sin he commits, but also they by whom the 
 offence comes ; and Stuyvesant, forced by political con 
 siderations into the position of a persecutor, had ended 
 by hating the Quakers as the cause of his own injustice. 
 
 He turned with a dark face to Captain Woodhouse 
 and said, " You have brought here a ship ; that is your 
 affair. By bringing Quakers in it you have made the 
 ship and all the merchandise in it forfeit ; that is my 
 affair." 
 
 " Is that the law of New Amsterdam ? We knew it 
 not." 
 
 " To be ignorant of law is not to be innocent. Make 
 short work of your departure. There are twelve hours 
 given you for it. As for thee, Master Prideaux, mind 
 thy own business, and meddle not with our religion.
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Remonstrants are usually atheists. A man should be 
 satisfied with the religion of his country ; when he trav 
 els about for religion, he is a discontented man, who 
 has perhaps a bad conscience. Take a glass of anise- 
 water and be gone ; you have affairs that will be better 
 for expedition." 
 
 So the men returned to the ship too much disap 
 pointed to admire as they might have done the good 
 brick houses, the well-paved streets, and the air of pros 
 perity and happiness pervading the pleasant new city. 
 On reaching the " Good Intent," they found there sev 
 eral visitors, Friends, who had come to give them 
 welcome. They were chiefly inhabitants of Flushing, 
 and all during the past year had suffered by fines or 
 imprisonment for the faith which was in them. 
 
 Still, it was believed to be only a passing persecution, 
 induced by the zeal of the New England colonies ; and 
 Roger determined not to be driven from his original 
 purpose until he received a clear command in the 
 matter. John Woodhouse, however, thought it best to 
 depart with the next tide, and the remainder of the 
 company went with him ; some to the welcoming shores 
 of Rhode Island, others to that beautiful isle lying in an 
 inlet of the sea near the eastern point of Long Island, 
 which belonged entirely to Nathaniel Sylvester. Na 
 thaniel was a devoted Quaker, and in his little domain 
 the persecuted always found comfort and protection ; so 
 that it was known even then by its blessed name of 
 Shelter Island. 
 
 At first Roger thought of taking Olivia there ; but 
 shelter of a peculiarly pleasant character was speedily 
 offered. There lived then at Gravesend, on Long Island, 
 the Countess Mordee, a noble Puritan lady, much spoken 
 of by the Dutch historian Croese. She had recently
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 383 
 
 become a Quakeress, and at her house at Gravesend the 
 meetings of Friends were held. 
 
 With this lady Olivia remained more than the first 
 year of her exile ; for Roger's " intentions in the new 
 life to which he had dedicated himself included mis 
 sions, and he had been hindered in the making of his 
 own home by an impression of religious duty to visit 
 the Barbadoes, and also the Virginia colony. During 
 this time Olivia had heard no voice out of her past. A 
 Friend whom her father met in Virginia asserted that 
 he had left several letters for her with Elizabeth Harris, 
 who was going to Oyster Bay ; but Elizabeth Harris had 
 not been permitted to preach there, and the letters had 
 never reached Olivia's hand. Neither had she had any 
 opportunity of sending a word to Nathaniel or to her 
 aunt-. Many English men and women had indeed been 
 at Gravesend, but none expected to return speedily ; or 
 if they did, they were not going . near the North Coun 
 try. And this silence of the living is of all silences the 
 hardest to bear. She sent her soul forth to seek her be 
 loved in such eager, longing thoughts that she could not 
 but feel sad and depressed when it always came back 
 without any apprehension of sympathy. 
 
 But one day, nearly fourteen months after her landing, 
 a young man called upon the countess, and he was going 
 direct to Westmoreland. He would pass the gates of 
 Kelderby. He would see and speak to Nathaniel. Oh, 
 how her hands trembled as she wrote ! The countess 
 watched her speaking face with an emotion full of the 
 memories of her own youth. She went to Olivia, and 
 kissed her. 
 
 " Oh, Cornelia," she answered, " to think that he will 
 touch this paper ! " And she touched with her lips the 
 white messenger of her love.
 
 384 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 It was one of the gloomiest days in January when it 
 reached Nathaniel. The mountains around Kelderby 
 stood up black and menacing against the ghastly neutral 
 tint of the sky behind ' them ; and the dripping crags, 
 the sea of barren heather, and the gray, stony road 
 through it, were the symbols of the joyless ways of his 
 own life. Down this road he saw the bearer of his letter 
 coming, and his quick-eared spirit heard in his footsteps 
 a tone of hope. The stranger himself had a kind of 
 familiarity ; he was like a man met in a dream ; and 
 Nathaniel was hardly astonished when he took the letter 
 from his inner pocket and put it into his hand. 
 
 And because love has a tireless curiosity about the 
 beloved, Nathaniel kept his guest in his room all night ; 
 and though they talked of many subjects, every one 
 ended in Olivia. She was well, and she said she -was 
 happy. Nathaniel felt unspeakably grateful for this as 
 surance. Also, the aching silence had been broken ; 
 there was hope in the very circumstance. He was not 
 ashamed of the tears of joy that filled his eyes, not 
 ashamed to linger over every word, to touch the insen 
 sate paper with an almost sacred emotion, to lay it 
 where his beating heart would be constantly and con 
 sciously aware of its presence. 
 
 Never had Nathaniel more needed the influx of some, 
 outside consolation. In Kelderby there was the gloom 
 and shadow of coming grief. The country was on the 
 verge of anarchy, Richard Cromwell trembling at the 
 dangers of his office, and eager to escape them ; and 
 General Monk, with the army at his back, secretly work 
 ing for the king's return. 
 
 " I shall be the last Kelder of Kelderby, Nathaniel," 
 the baron had often said lately. " Charles Stuart is 
 coming back, and De Burg will have his way."
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 385 
 
 It was not for himself the old man was troubled. It 
 was for the past and future Kelders he mourned. For 
 men in those days entertained not only a present but 
 a reflective affection. The pictured faces on the walls 
 had a personality to him ; and he saw in Nathaniel not 
 only the son whom he loved, but also the father of fair 
 sons he might never see on earth, but who he believed 
 would still be bound to him by imperishable though 
 invisible ties. Every generation transmits less and less 
 of this reflective love ; but the men who want it are 
 poorer in its lack than they know. 
 
 It happened that on this day the baron was so unwell 
 that he kept his room. He was drawing nigh to three 
 score years and ten, and was frequently conscious of that 
 limpness of body which, like the limp falling of leaf upon 
 leaf in a plant, shows the decay of living power to keep 
 all erect. Public events made him very anxious; and 
 though he did not give Nathaniel any verbal sympathy 
 he saw the young man's suffering, and suffered with him. 
 Only, at seventy years of age men feel it to be impossible 
 to force events. 
 
 In the twilight when he awakened from his afternoon 
 sleep, he saw Lady Kelder sitting by the fire knitting. 
 He watched her a few minutes before she was conscious 
 of his observation, and he saw that she was annoyed and 
 mentally busy. 
 
 "What is it, Joan?" 
 
 She lifted her face, and the wrinkles went out of her 
 brow, and a pleasant light came into her eyes. " Are 
 you better, Odinel ? and as to my trouble, it is an old 
 one, Baron. I conceive myself a tolerably patient woman, 
 but I confess to being at this hour much moved. Here 
 is a man from the Dutch plantation in America, with 
 more news than is good news, a tedious, troublesome 
 
 25
 
 386 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 fellow mixing up his religion in all affairs, even with a 
 subject so little worthy of it as that Quaker Prideaux and 
 his girl Olivia." 
 
 " I remember. A very righteous man was Prideaux." 
 
 " 'T is the girl concerns us. You would think that 
 Nathaniel had got a kingdom, instead of a letter from 
 her. Blessed be God, there is the ocean between 
 them ! " 
 
 " Olivia Prideaux is a sweet woman ; very lovely, very 
 pure and good. Forget that she is a Quakeress, and 
 who so worthy of our Nathaniel?" 
 
 " A sweet woman so good, so good ! I have heard 
 that Athens banished her greatest man because she was 
 weary of hearing that he was so just, so just ! I under 
 stand Athens. I am too much of a mortal woman myself 
 to wish a daughter so good, so good ! Let her be ban 
 ished. America is neighbourhood close enough." 
 
 " Joan, my dear heart, your words are much harder 
 than your real thoughts." 
 
 "She maketh trouble wherever she goeth. Even at 
 sea men must be sinning and fighting about her. In her 
 letter to Nathaniel she tells a wondrous story of John de 
 Burg boarding their ship ; and at the last moment, when 
 life and honour were not worth a pin's fee, John de Burg 
 falls dead, or is struck dead by lightning, and a storm 
 carries the wicked men away, and the Quaker saints get 
 safely into harbour. Faith, I have no patience with such 
 pretensions ! From a very trifle the tongue or the pen 
 kindleth a great matter. Do you indeed believe such 
 things?" 
 
 " That,, and much more, may be true. The ocean is 
 the highway of devils, and God had need to work mira 
 cles on it. But, in truth, a great storm is no miracle ; 
 and good men have perished by his lightning, as well as
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 387 
 
 evil men. Nevertheless, these Quakers have a mighty 
 faith, and miracle is the child of faith. By it we are told 
 we can move mountains, and how much easier to move 
 the good-will of Him whom winds and waves and the 
 swift lightning obey." 
 
 " I have had faith all my life. Surely the Puritan has 
 as good a faith as the Quaker, and I have asked deliver 
 ances with faith, and they have not come. Faith is a 
 hard thing to understand, Baron ; not even Minister 
 Duttred can make a good explanation of it. Very fine 
 sermons he has preached on faith, but I am not wise 
 enough to understand them. And truly I think others 
 are in the same case." 
 
 " 'T is most likely ; yet a Quaker lad whom I met 
 keeping a few sheep on the fellside told me in a few 
 words the secret. ' Faith,' said he, ' living faith, appre 
 hends God with the heart, not with the reason.' Ah ! 
 Joan dearest, as I draw near to the Invisible I think less 
 and less of reason and more and more of faith." 
 
 She looked steadily at him. His voice, though low, 
 penetrated to the root of her being. For the first time 
 she realized that he was an old man, and that they might 
 not be very long together. He lay on a large sofa cov 
 ered with black sheepskins, and a rug of the same mate 
 rial covered him. Against this sombre wrap the pallor 
 and emaciation of age would have been remarkable but 
 for the suffusing glow of the radiant soul behind. She 
 went softly to his side, and put her arms under his head, 
 and laid her face against his, and whispered words that 
 he had taught her in the days of their youth. 
 
 And he answered her as she loved to hear him speak : 
 " We have had such a happy life, Joan. So much in our 
 forty years together. Of all God's good gifts to me you 
 are best and best loved."
 
 388 FRIEND OLIYIA. 
 
 "And our dear son, Odinel?" 
 
 The baron's face shadowed a little. " I am grieved 
 to my heart for Nathaniel. He suffers so much, and I 
 suffer with him, Joan. He hath been a good son to 
 us." 
 
 " Truly so, save in one thing." 
 
 " He carries all my cares ; he bates me not one tittle 
 of my respect; his love shields me from every small 
 vexation ; he troubles me not with his troubles ; he asks 
 nothing for himself, a noble youth, Joan. I would to 
 God I could see him happy ere I go away forever ! " 
 
 " His pale, kill-joy face is complaint enough. It 
 offends me every day, and every hour of the day." 
 
 "Yea, he hath fallen off his flesh past belief; and he 
 is more sad and silent than his years and affairs warrant. 
 'T is easy to see that he hath a heart-sickness beyond our 
 power to cure." 
 
 " But if that Quaker girl were here he would be ten 
 years younger in an hour. He is so distracted with love 
 for her." 
 
 " I remember forty years ago, Joan. I was distracted 
 with love also." His eyes sought hers ; and the memory 
 of that dead year softened her heart, and she drew his 
 thin face closer to her breast and kissed it. 
 
 " If you could give Nathaniel his wish in this matter, 
 Joan, it would make my last days very happy. If he 
 marry not this girl, he will marry none other. Is he to 
 be the last Kelder? I am sad when I think on it." 
 
 " And 't is very cruel in Nathaniel to give you such 
 matter for sadness. No, he is not a good son if he does 
 all else and then undoes all by this left-handed blow." 
 
 But the baron's words had wounded her in the most 
 secret and loving depths of her soul. That night she 
 sat a long time musing before the fire in her room. The
 
 JOHN DE BURGS FAILURE. 389 
 
 declining beauty of memories and regrets was on her 
 face. She felt that the silver cord that moored her to 
 time was being slackened, and that if her husband left 
 this world before her she would be very lonely in 
 ' life. 
 
 " He is sprung of earth's best blood and of heaven's 
 finest spirit," she said with a tearful pride, " and I thank 
 God that I have been his dear wife ! What if I should 
 give him his desire? 'T would make him happy. For 
 his sake, for his dear sake, I could perhaps swallow 
 that Quaker girl with a gulp." Then sweet memories 
 and sweet influences gathered round her ; she lost herself 
 in a reverie of gracious recollections of the days of her 
 youth, the holy trials and peace of its home ; the father 
 and mother whom she had so tenderly loved ; the little 
 sisters who had died when they were playing children at 
 her side. 
 
 When Jael entered she spoke to her with a sigh of 
 relief. It was good to have been a little beyond earth, 
 but she was not one made for long flights. " I have been 
 thinking of my father and mother, Jael, and of my little 
 sisters Mary and Elizabeth. I believe they answered my 
 thought. I felt as if they were present." 
 
 " It is a dull time, my Lady, and I would n't be wel 
 coming any freits and fancies. I can't think the dead 
 come back for a thought. It is n't likely." 
 
 " Thought may be prayer, Jael." 
 
 " Yes, my Lady. If you see a spirit, then you know it 
 is there ; but as for feelings " 
 
 " If there is a rose in the room, Jael, though the room 
 be dark, you know that the rose is there. If a spirit is 
 in the room, though you see it not, you may know that 
 it is there." 
 
 " Certainly. How does Master do to-night? "
 
 39O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " He is better, but troubled about his son and that 
 Quaker girl. Jael, I am afraid she will be Lady of 
 Kelderby yet." 
 
 " We often plan things a deal worse than God ever 
 means them to be. I would n't borrow trouble of the 
 day you never saw, my Lady." 
 
 " A strange story the girl tells of John de Burg's stop 
 ping their ship, and of his being struck down by light 
 ning just as her father's life and her own honour were in 
 extremity. I make no account of such special inter 
 ferences. Too far off they always happen." 
 
 " Nay, then, you should n't say that. There was 
 Farmer Metcalf of Satterlee, that is n't far off, I 'm 
 sure ; and the judgment he brought upon himself hun- . 
 dreds came from east and west to see. It was in the 
 year the king suffered, and he was a bit of a royalist, 
 they do say. But so or not, he had a fine field of barley 
 as ever grew in Westmoreland. And he was standing in 
 one of his sinful tempers looking at it when Joseph 
 Schofield and Timothy King came by. They bid him 
 good-morning, but he was too surly to say, ' good,' let 
 alone do it ; and he never answered them a word. Then 
 Timothy, thinking to please him, said, ' You have a fine 
 growing field of barley, Farmer.' And he turned with an 
 oath and answered, ' To be sure I have, if God Almighty 
 will only let it alone.' My Lady, God Almighty did let 
 it alone. It never grew another particle, and when all 
 the fields around were ready for the sickle Metcalf 's 
 barley was not in the ear. So it drooped and withered 
 away, for no man durst cut it down, and the farmer him 
 self grew moping melancholy, and feared God and man, 
 and hid himself from the sight of all who came to see the 
 wonder. And his word was that ' God needed not to 
 damn him, for he had damned himself there and then.'
 
 JOHN DE BURG'S FAILURE. 391 
 
 And to be sure, if all tales be true, John de Burg was fit 
 to provoke even the patience of the Eternal." 
 
 There was a short silence after Jael's testimony to 
 the visible judgments of God, and Lady Kelder rose and 
 went to her dressing-table. It stood in a recess of the 
 large window, and she drew aside the curtains and looked 
 out. Banks of gray clouds were drifting rapidly over the 
 gray sky ; gloom, wildness, desolation, were all around. 
 Suddenly there was a soft, sad sound of human voices. 
 They rose and fell, and sometimes died away altogether. 
 Jael's lips were silently moving. 
 
 " Do you hear the singing, Jael ? What is it ? " 
 
 " Janet Bell died at sundown. They came to Kelderby 
 for fire and salt and candlelight. 'T is the corpse-dressers 
 coming home, belike." 
 
 " I thought it was the death dirge." 
 
 She stood listening until the small company passed. 
 The wild, sad notes, with their old, old words, rose and 
 fell on her consciousness ; when they were too low to be 
 articulate her memory supplied the loss, ar.d when they 
 rose in a plaintive prayer at the last line she v/.vr ju 
 echoed the imploration : 
 
 " This ae night, this ae night, 
 
 Every night and a', 
 Fire, salt, and candlelight, 
 
 And Christ receive the soul ! "
 
 XIX. 
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 " The gods deride, 
 Eying the boaster proud no more, 
 Struggling amid the surging tide ; 
 Shorn of his strength, he yields to Fate. 
 The cape he weathers not, but thrown 
 On Justice' reef, with precious freight 
 He perisheth for aye." 
 
 " As in the land of darkness yet in light, 
 To live a life half dead, a living death." 
 
 "T^VERY one should silently bear his own burden, 
 *-' rather than abridge the comfort of others ; and 
 Nathaniel acted upon this principle, both before and 
 after the receipt of Olivia's letter. There was trouble 
 and anxiety enough in Kelderby without his adding his 
 personal disappointments to the general ill-fortune. A 
 bad harvest and an unusually severe winter followed. 
 Many of the fishing-boats were lost at sea, and hundreds 
 of the sheep perished in the great snow-drifts. Richard 
 Cromwell abdicated the honours his great father left 
 him, and Charles Stuart came back to the throne of 
 England. 
 
 After this event the Kelders held Kelderby as those 
 ready at any moment to resign it. They were sure of 
 De Burg's animosity ; what power he had to carry out 
 his evil desires was a thing beyond their judgment. 
 Charles had been to his adherents in exile both noto-
 
 AA'ASTAS/A'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 393 
 
 riously prodigal and notoriously indifferent. Royalists 
 were angry at the leniency which many attributed to 
 good nature, but which was, in reality, the result of a 
 selfish temperament impatient of any matters but such 
 as related to its sensual gratification. 
 
 De Burg considered himself to have been specially 
 neglected. Charles had made promises to him, as he 
 had to scores of other gentlemen, which he was both 
 unwilling and unable to perform. At first he had pros 
 pects of a wealthy office and an increase of lands and 
 honours. But a sudden blight fell upon his hopes. The 
 king's manner entirely changed, his friendly confidence 
 became a freezing politeness ; and when De Burg met his 
 Majesty walking in the park with his hand upon Strick 
 land's shoulder he understood the reason of the change ; 
 and he knew also that Charles, in the great pressure 
 made upon his remembrance, was only too glad of ex 
 cuses for withdrawing his favour. 
 
 He had hoped much from Anastasia's influence at the 
 court ; but Anastasia had worn out her influence before 
 the king touched his sceptre. Her visits to France had 
 been too frequent. She had wronged her fair name, and 
 won no tangible result excepting the revocation of all 
 edicts of outlawry against her brother. Perhaps Charles 
 considered that the pardon of so great a criminal can 
 celled all his obligations to the lady and her father. 
 The real cause was a deeper one. Anastasia was not a 
 courtier. She had no control over her temper and her 
 feelings. She lacked the little arts which gave inferior 
 beauties superiority over her, and she was a flaming 
 target for such women as Castlemain and Portsmouth. 
 Their public tiffs amused the king for a little while, but 
 they finally bored him ; and when it came to that point 
 Anastasia's day was over.
 
 394 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 In the October following that wild May revel which 
 had ushered in the new Stuart tyranny, De Burg and his 
 daughter returned to Kendal. Both had changed much 
 in their absence. De Burg had grown stout, and his 
 hair had become quite white. Anastasia had lost the 
 bloom and elasticity of youth. Travel, anxiety, and the 
 petty annoyances of her court life had left indelible 
 marks, and " failure " was written broadly over all her 
 life. 
 
 Their house had been used by Puritan soldiers as a 
 barrack, and it was but the wreck of a once fine dwell 
 ing. A gloomy first meal the father and daughter ate in 
 their recovered home. They had anticipated such a 
 different return, and they were each in their hearts in 
 clined to blame the other for the utter lapse of their 
 claims and the sudden withdrawal of royal favour. 
 
 " I am better here, after all," said De Burg, looking 
 round upon his disfigured dining-room. " I was an eye 
 sore in London, but they rung the bells in Kendal when 
 they heard I was coming back ; and my old servants, 
 honest people, how they trooped around my horse ! 
 You saw that I could scarce make way for them." 
 
 "You feed and clothe them, honest people." 
 
 " As for the king, he is " 
 
 " Just what I told you, when I first went to Paris." 
 
 " Knowing him so well, then, you ought to have used 
 him to better purpose." 
 
 " I am no courtier." 
 
 " You are a woman." 
 
 " I '11 swear you are less than a father." 
 
 She lifted her eyes so reproachfully that De Burg 
 could not answer her. They finished the meal in 
 silence, and then De Burg sat down to smoke on his 
 desolated hearth. Anastasia made no further effort to
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 395 
 
 discuss their affairs. She felt sure it would end in re 
 crimination. Listlessly she wandered about the room, 
 noting the places on the wall left vacant by the loss of 
 pictures ; the cabinets emptied of their Indian curiosi 
 ties and china ; the poverty of the oak buffet, that had 
 once shone with silver. In a corner, half hidden by a 
 sofa, she saw something familiar lying. She stooped and 
 lifted the object. It was her lute. Every string was 
 broken ; they hung around it rusty and tuneless forever. 
 A few bitter tears sprung to her eyes ; she winked them 
 angrily away, and carrying the piteous-looking thing in 
 her hands, bade her father good-night, and went slowly 
 to her chamber. 
 
 It had suffered less than the main rooms ; perhaps the 
 rough soldiers had been touched by the many feminine 
 appeals to their respect which it contained. That un 
 happy blue and white dress which she had sworn she 
 would never wear again still hung in the awmrie. There 
 were odds and ends of ribbons and laces about. A pair 
 of tiny bronze slippers, with faded bows of pink ribbon 
 on them, lay before the dressing-glass. The very shep 
 herdess hat she had worn on that fateful afternoon when 
 she played shuttlecock with the heart of Nathaniel 
 Kelder and lost her game hung on a nail by the 
 window. Chairs had been removed, and the large 
 cheval-glass was cracked ; but the oak bedstead, with its 
 fantastic carving and damask curtains, stood as she had 
 seen it all her life. And it was evident the store of 
 linen had not been discovered, for it was spread with 
 fine sheets aromatically fragrant from their long seclusion 
 with lavender. 
 
 The servants had forgotten a fire, but she was glad of 
 it. A fire conduced to reflection, and she did not want 
 to reflect. It would have increased the temperature,
 
 396 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 and she was already feverishly hot. The cool, gloomy 
 room with its snowy expanse of sheets and pillows was 
 more inviting. 
 
 With the force of old habit she put the candle near 
 the dressing-mirror, and sat down before it. She had 
 on a brown velvet dress laced in front, and she began to 
 loosen the silken cord, which was passed round small 
 gold buttons. She did not hurry; in fact, she dallied 
 with the task, as if its postponement would delay some 
 misfortune. Beneath this open front, filling in the 
 diamond-shaped spaces made by the lacing, there was a 
 white stomacher dotted with pearls. She began delib 
 erately to count them, and then, swift as light, there 
 came to her memory that wretched afternoon of her 
 wedding-day, when she sat in the same place counting 
 the pearls on her shoes. She had resolved not to think 
 of the past, and there it was and would not be put 
 away. 
 
 "And this is the end of it all," she said, glancing up 
 at the shepherdess hat, but at the same moment taking 
 from her bosom a letter. 
 
 It was a letter from Pastro, written in very bad Eng 
 lish mixed with very good French. It told her that 
 John de Burg was at Chenage waiting to see her there ; 
 also that he was ill and needing her assistance. 
 
 " Every time I hear of John he is ill," she said impa 
 tiently. "What has come over the man? And 'tis so 
 long since I saw him. There is some mystery to be 
 reached, and I know it will be a miserable one. What 
 else comes to me ? I have a mind to forswear the Devil 
 and live religiously." 
 
 But if she was foolishly fond of any earthly creature, 
 she was fond of her brother ; and she determined to go 
 to Chenage early on the following day. So much must
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 397 
 
 have happened during her absence, and she had heard 
 nothing of it. Letters had indeed come, and once a 
 very welcome bag of gold pieces ; but the message was 
 ever the same, "The Captain is sick, but will come 
 soon." 
 
 As she turned her curls around her fingers she antici 
 pated the happy moment when she could say to him : 
 "John, here is your pardon for all past offences; and 
 here is your commission as privateer from Charles, King 
 of England." Her next dream was to reconcile father 
 and son. She hoped yet to see John the acknowledged 
 heir of De Burg. In London he could now visit her 
 openly, and as the years went by the people whom he 
 had wronged would die, or they would forget, or their 
 forgiveness might be purchased. She had many lovers, 
 but no friend in whom she trusted, with whom she could 
 throw off all disguises ; and she expected in the com 
 panionship of John the satisfaction of a heart hungry for 
 sympathy, and finding it abundantly. 
 
 When she came to breakfast in the morning she 
 wore her riding-habit. " I am going to Chenage, 
 Father," she said. " Will you find any content in going 
 with me?" 
 
 " Go to Chenage ! Not for a dukedom. Why not 
 sell Chenage? Its price will renew and refurnish De 
 Burg. I should not think you would have any liking for 
 Chenage, Asia." 
 
 " Liking for Chenage ! Good God ! have you any 
 liking for Appleby jail ? Chenage was a prison-house, a 
 torture-chamber to me." 
 
 " Then sell it." 
 
 " There are things to be considered. I do not know 
 whether the man is alive or dead. He may come 
 back."
 
 398 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " You know that he will never come back. I have not 
 accused you, Asia. I have too great a sense of your 
 misfortunes, But why keep up a pretence with me? 
 Think on it till to-morrow." 
 
 " I may not return for a few days." 
 
 " Pray, whom do you entertain there ? " 
 
 " Father, once you mistrusted me when it had been 
 far better to have let me alone. Had you done so, John 
 had never gone to Sandys, and the Quaker had not 
 given the king an opportunity to be virtuous at your 
 expense. Oh, so much sorrow had been spared ! " 
 
 " Peace ! Are we such fools as to rake among the 
 ashes of dead days? We have been disappointed to a 
 degree (confound the king's enemies!), and 'tis the 
 part of wisdom to hide it. Sell Chenage, refurnish De 
 Burg, and if you have an ounce of wisdom left, marry 
 the young lord who has been your servant so long." 
 
 " He has an attack of virtue lately. My visits to Paris 
 have offended him. Faith, he is so smitten with the 
 honour of the dead Southports he has no stomach for his 
 own happiness ! I am sick of the admirable man." 
 
 " Well, as you pleased yourself in your first marriage, 
 I have great reason to expect you will be in the humour 
 to satisfy me in the future. But we will leave the dis 
 course on it at the present. I find in it no entertain 
 ment. I wish you as much pleasure as you look for in 
 your visit." 
 
 She was burning with the injustice of her father's 
 charge, but it is sometimes impossible to answer an ac 
 cusation at once brutally unkind and flagrantly unjust. 
 The magnitude of tffe lie rouses a momentary storm of 
 surprise and indignation, and its final result is a speech 
 less contempt. Anastasia suffered her father to go with 
 out denying the imputation. She would challenge it in
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 399 
 
 the future ; at this hour she was glad to escape his 
 company and espionage. 
 
 She reached Chenage about noon. There she was 
 lady paramount, and her men and women gathered 
 eagerly around her with congratulations and offers of 
 service. It was her policy to treat them with a generous 
 kindness as well as with an exacting hauteur, and she 
 was extremely popular. She took her steward's arm into 
 the parlour, and sitting down with an air of exhaustion, 
 asked after " the poor sick gentleman." 
 
 " Captain Latour? Ah, Mistress ! You will indeed be 
 astonished. Such a change ! Only God in heaven " 
 
 " What have you to do with God in heaven ? Be 
 not so presumptuous. Is Lieutenant Pastro with his 
 captain?" 
 
 " He left this morning, Mistress, before day-dawn." 
 
 " In what room is the Captain? " 
 
 " In the room with the Indian hangings." 
 
 Anastasia drew her brows together. It was the mas 
 ter's room. She had not occupied it since his disap 
 pearance, and she was sorry John had been put there. 
 While she sat and drank she talked over the affairs of 
 the house and farm. A strange reluctance to meet 
 whatever sorrow was in that room had come to her. 
 With the goblet of wine at her lips she shivered and 
 turned sick at heart ; but she would not permit her ser 
 vant to attend her there. When he was busy removing 
 the silver she went quietly up the steep, dim stairs alone. 
 
 For a moment she stood before the closed door of the 
 room. All was still as a grave. She heard not a move 
 ment, not even the rustle of a paper or the stir of a rest 
 less foot. The suspense was unendurable. Perhaps he 
 was sleeping. 
 
 Softly she turned the handle, and the door moved
 
 400 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 softly inward. A man was sitting in the chair facing 
 her. But it was not John de Burg. It could not be 
 John de Burg. He was shrivelled, as the kernel of a 
 nut is sometimes shrivelled in its shell. He had lost his 
 stature, as if a mighty hand had pressed him downward. 
 He was quite blind. 
 
 She closed the door in a breathless terror and slipped 
 on her knees beside him. " John ! " she sobbed. 
 "John! John! Is it you, John?" 
 
 A single tear welled out from his sightless eyes, fell on 
 his cheek, and lay there. She kissed it away. " Is it 
 you, John?". 
 
 " It was me, Asia. Now that you have come I will 
 curse heaven and earth, and die," 
 
 " I will stay with you. I will give my life to you. 
 John, I have your full pardon. No one can hurt you 
 now." 
 
 " No one will do me so much mercy. I am like that 
 old murderer Cain, there is a mark on me." 
 
 " How was it, John? " 
 
 " The lightning struck me. I was after those damned 
 Quakers. They were in my hands. Ten minutes, five 
 minutes sooner, and all had been to my wish. The girl 
 would have been on my own ship." 
 
 "She escaped then? Oh, John ! " 
 
 "They all escaped. I was beside myself, or I had 
 seen the bolt above me. I would not see or hear Pas- 
 tro's warnings. I had had the dream, and he had warned 
 me ; but until it was too late, I forgot all except the 
 pleasant work I had in hand. It was so sweet I must 
 needs dally with it. Oh, oh, the cursed fate of it ! " 
 
 " John, where have you been since? " 
 
 " Ask Pastro. I can't tell you. For weeks I don't 
 know how many I was like a dead man. He let no
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 401 
 
 one know how dead I was. He said he got his orders 
 from me. But at last the cowards found it out, and they 
 would not sail with me on board. I was left at Mar 
 seilles. I was taken to Calais. I don't remember much 
 since the blow. I can only think of what happened 
 before it." 
 
 "You remember that? " 
 
 " Every deed, word, and look." 
 
 " John, is Chenage alive ? " 
 
 " Dead and damned." 
 
 " Before you were hurt ? " 
 
 " Yes ; that is one thing to be grateful for. Hell 
 would be a happy place to Chenage if he could see me 
 here. He went first. Ha, ha ! I got that advantage of 
 him." 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 " Ay, dead." 
 
 " Where was he buried? " 
 
 He laughed a thin, shrill, diabolical shadow of a laugh. 
 " Buried ! Do you want to put a monument in the mid- 
 sea to his good temper and kind heart? Asia, you 
 make me feel again. Ha, ha ! Chenage's grave ! " 
 
 " Well, he had one somewhere ? " 
 
 " Ay, a safe one ; tons of stone could not make it 
 safer." 
 
 She took his hand. It was shrunken like that of a 
 very old man, brown and claw-like, but she kissed and 
 fondled it. And he would have smiled had he been 
 able, but his face was rigid ; it looked as if with every 
 movement it must crackle like parchment. 
 
 " You have not married again ? " 
 
 " A-God's mercy I have not ! I belong to you now, 
 John. You have met ill fortune; I will help you to 
 endure it." 
 
 26
 
 4O2 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Not in this house, I pray, Asia. I don't fear devils, 
 but I don't want their company till I am out of the flesh 
 and a fair match for them. The nights are terrible. I 
 see without eyes." And he shuddered visibly. 
 
 " John, I want to sell Chenage. I would have done 
 so, only I feared I thought if he should come back." 
 
 " The sharks ate him. Now do you fear ? Do you 
 think he will come back? " He could not see the white 
 terror of her face, so he went carelessly on : " He was 
 getting very weak, and he was going mad, and the men 
 were all a-weary of him. One day a school of these 
 fishes of the Devil came alongside. I told him they had 
 come for him ; and they got him. He deserved his 
 fate, all of it. You think that, Asia?" 
 
 The eagerness with which he asked the question, the 
 desperate anxiety on his sightless face, touched the ten- 
 derest spot in Anastasia's heart. She understood that he 
 was troubled, perhaps superstitious, about Chenage's death, 
 and she hasted to give him such assurance as she could. 
 
 " He deserved it all, and far more, John. It was 
 beyond mortal power to give him the punishment he 
 deserved. He was nothing better than a human shark, 
 and he went to his kind." 
 
 He was grateful for the strength of her assertions, 
 though they did not really comfort him. For it is im 
 possible to escape, even in this life, the miserable re 
 morse that follows sins planned for and deliberately 
 worked out, day by day, in spite of all the remonstrances 
 of conscience and the lets and bars of circumstances. 
 All mortals are subject to sudden temptations, to slips 
 into sensual mire, to the ready injustice which springs 
 from self-seeking; but it is the premeditated sins that 
 taint the whole moral nature and make the hour of death 
 full of horror.
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 403 
 
 In a dim way Anastasia apprehended something of 
 what her brother was suffering. "John," she said, "you 
 must go out of this room. Its air tastes of the men and 
 women who have breathed it. It makes me shudder. I 
 shall have a bed put in the dancing-gallery for you. 
 There is plenty of morning sunshine there, and it has a 
 door leading into the garden. You ought to be in the 
 garden a great deal. You ought to be there now." 
 
 " I cannot walk very well, Asia." 
 
 " Then you must be helped." And she called her 
 steward and her groom, and directed them to assist the 
 Captain. In a few minutes she had every servant at 
 work. The best and most comfortable furniture was 
 taken to 'the vacant gallery, which had been the ball 
 room of the house ; and while these changes were in 
 progress she watched John with satisfaction. He was 
 evidently enjoying his walk in the October sunshine. 
 She noticed that he was talking with animation to the 
 men upon whose arms he leaned. He came in weary 
 and hungry, but with a different tone in his voice, and 
 after eating he sank gratefully down upon a large couch, 
 and was soon in a deep sleep. 
 
 Perfect silence encouraged this rest; Anastasia for 
 bade a movement. She sat beside him, and watched 
 and thought hour after hour until the sun set, and the 
 gloaming faded to darkness, and the eery feeling crept 
 through the lonely house. 
 
 It happened that the chair which she had taken faced 
 the blank west wall, and it was covered with portraits. 
 Some power drew her eyes to one a little out of the 
 direct line of vision, and on it for a few minutes they 
 were riveted. It was her own portrait, surely. Yet the 
 dress was antiquated ; she had never worn anything like 
 it. She went softly on tiptoes to the pictured lady, and
 
 404 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 looked earnestly into her face. What a stormy, beauti 
 ful face it was ! She seemed to understand the passionate 
 resistance in it, the fear and contempt, the wistful, hope 
 less glance of the eyes, full of a presentiment of sorrow 
 which as yet they were determined to disbelieve. 
 
 " It is myself," she whispered. " When Chenage was 
 torturing me I have looked in the glass and seen the 
 very face I see there." She took a footstool and stood 
 upon it, and she found in one corner the name of 
 "Cecilia Temple Chenage, A. D. 1600." A strange love 
 and pity warmed her heart. She wept as the young 
 often do weep at the image of their own fancied suffer 
 ing or death. " My dear," she said, softly speaking to 
 the picture, " my dear, if you are me, and I was you, 
 be content. I have revenged your wrongs." 
 
 The pictures were all more or less faded, but this face 
 had a special clarity among them. Its white oval, with 
 some stray gleam of light upon it, had probably been the 
 quality of its attraction. She looked at it until it seemed 
 alive ; the mouth parted, and the eyes followed her. 
 
 Then a sudden thought made her turn to its companion 
 picture. She expected to find in it the Roderick Chenage 
 who had been her own husband's example. The men of 
 the house were all much alike, fine, healthy, well-grown, 
 and well-groomed animals, full of a brutal vitality. Almost 
 any of them, painted about the age of thirty, would have 
 passed for a likeness of Roger Chenage. When she found 
 the one she looked for she shut her lips tightly, and said 
 through them, 
 
 " I thought as much. You are a proper grandsire for 
 him. You look precisely as he looked the day he brought 
 me here. Pah ! What a nest of villany this house is ! 
 I will sell it to Mowbray of Milnthorpe. He hates me 
 and I hate him, and it would content me to cage an
 
 ANASTASIAS BEST SIDE. 
 
 405 
 
 enemy here. He used to be one of my humblest ser 
 vants ; but he is a deadly drinker, and he has grown fat, 
 and what is unforgivable, suspicious. He said he would 
 bet a Cromwell fifty-shilling gold piece that I knew what 
 had become of Chenage. I don't like him, but he wants 
 to buy Chenage and he shall have it." 
 
 This thought gave her mental occupation. She sat 
 down and remained motionless, eagerly busy with plans 
 for her own and John's future. For it never occurred to 
 her that their separation was now possible. John had not 
 blamed her for his evil fate, but she blamed herself. 
 Looking at him as he lay sleeping by her side, a feeling 
 almost motherly came into her heart. She would defend 
 him and succour him to the last extremity. Neither for 
 father nor for lover would she give him up. 
 
 He awoke after five hours of sound sleep, and his face 
 at the first flash of consciousness filled Anastasia with pity. 
 What misery there must be in that momentary recogni 
 tion of all his loss and helplessness ! The picture of it on 
 his face was the revelation of despair. 
 
 " John," she said, " you have slept five hours. It is 
 eight o'clock. Now we will have supper, and then I will 
 sit with you all through the night if you wish." 
 
 " If you only would, Asia ! " 
 
 " 'T will content me much to do so." 
 
 For many weary, awful months John had not passed a 
 night so endurable. She told him about the Lady Cecilia, 
 and she made much of the picture that was so like herself. 
 Though she had never heard of the transmigration of 
 souls, love and pity taught her the doctrine ; and she 
 made John feel that he had been the elected avenger of 
 wrongs too intolerable to endure the grave's oblivion. 
 
 When trembling and horror and the sense of presence 
 seized him, she gravely ridiculed the fear. " Your soul is
 
 406 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 sick as well as your body, John. Chenage here ! Impos 
 sible ! If he were, would I not know it ? I was his mur 
 derer, you were only my knife. Let him come to me- 
 Faith ! I do not fear him without his body." But her 
 brave words belied her. She was white with terror, and 
 shivering through all her soul with that coldness which 
 defies heat of sun or fire, and which gives a sense of the 
 supernatural. 
 
 Toward morning they both slept heavily. The sun 
 rose in a silvery haze, and streaming through the eastern 
 windows fell upon the unconscious brother and sister. 
 John lay on the sofa in a limp, nerveless heap, his once 
 handsome face as placid as a child's. Anastasia sat be 
 side him, her head against the leather-cushioned chair, 
 her habit loosened, and her dark curls covering her white 
 throat and bosom. She woke first, and for a few mo 
 ments she looked steadily at her companion. The im 
 pulse of prayer was in her heart, but she was ignorant of 
 its motions, and knew not its language. Yet perhaps her 
 unselfish love and pity was the next thing to it. 
 
 She remained at Chenage until afternoon, and went 
 back to De Burg with one settled purpose, that John 
 should be wherever she was. She expected opposition, 
 and she knew that in her heart there was a controlling 
 fear of her father. Through it he had made her marry 
 Chenage, but he should not make her desert John. The 
 instinct of defence and protection the mother-instinct 
 for helplessness that clings had been born of full stat 
 ure in her. It flashed in her eyes, and gave an air of 
 defiance to her manner. 
 
 De Burg had been occupying the day in carefully ex 
 amining his ruined home. He had made an estimate of 
 the repairs and furniture necessary for each room, the 
 offices to be rebuilt, the work to be done in the park and
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 407 
 
 garden. He discovered that a farm adjoining, which he 
 had long desired, was to be sold. The old Puritan who 
 owned it was going to the New England Colony. It 
 could be bought for half its value, and Chenage would do 
 all this and leave besides a comfortable income from the 
 residue of ready money. 
 
 On Anastasia's return he told her with his usual blunt- 
 ness the result of his investigations. He went into the 
 statement with some particularity, but he noticed that she 
 listened with the air of a person who had made a decision 
 beyond argument and beyond change. 
 
 " I bless myself that things are not worse," he said ; 
 " and yet both house and land are hugely out of order. 
 T will take as much as five thousand pounds to restore 
 the place, I can assure you. Has it yet entered your 
 mind to consider the sale of Chenage ? " 
 
 " I am in the humour to sell it to Mowbray of Miln- 
 thorpe. He has offered me eighteen thousand pounds. 
 'T is but half its value, but 't will serve my purpose better 
 than delay." 
 
 " In God's name, then, close with him. I shall be but 
 very little myself until De Burg is as it should be. I will 
 see about workmen at once." 
 
 ff Take patience, sir ! I give not up what I paid so 
 dea.rly for unless for some small selfish consideration. I 
 will have my room and the two rooms adjacent made as 
 certainly mine as the abbey is your own. No one shall 
 have power to enter them. I will entertain there for life 
 or for his will and pleasure one whom I am bound 
 to care for. Calm yourself, sir ! I am not to be brow 
 beaten by your passion in this matter. The man is blind 
 ajid helpless. He is dear to me. He has rights here 
 beyond even my affection." 
 
 De Burg was staring at her with an amazement that had
 
 408 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 something of fear in it. His wit had touched the truth 
 instantly, though he would not advance boldly to it. 
 
 " You speak in riddles, Mistress, and are trying to es 
 cape obliging me by making a condition beyond all rea 
 son. Who is this man ? " 
 
 " He is called Captain Latour. You need know him 
 by no other name. He cannot see you, and you may 
 make a point of not seeing him. I promise that I shall 
 use all my intelligence to keep him outside your presence. 
 I will have his room furnished to my wish. The mid- 
 room is for his attendant. My own apartment has been 
 much respected, and it will require but few additions. In 
 a week I can give you one thousand pounds. I will add 
 four thousand pounds as soon as the sale of Chenage is 
 completed." 
 
 He was in a white heat of passion before she finished 
 her proposal. 
 
 " Captain Latour ! John de Burg, you mean. And 
 you have a thousand pounds ! Truly, you are a good 
 daughter to hide so much gold and see your father at his 
 wit's end for a few sovereigns." 
 
 "If you will have truth where less than truth would be 
 for your comfort and welfare, take it. Captain Latour 
 is John de Burg." 
 
 " Then you conceive me to be a man beyond the sense 
 of honour. Is my room to shelter a villain and an outlaw ? " 
 
 " Lord, sir ! your roof has sheltered more villains than 
 saints. And John is no longer an outlaw. He hath the 
 king's pardon and also the king's commission. As for the 
 gold, 't was not mine until yesterday ; and if I said a 
 thousand pounds, 't is like enough to be much beyond it ; 
 for though John is blind, I trow he is rich enough to 
 buy De Burg and make a present of it to the bats and 
 owls."
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 
 
 409 
 
 " Keep your temper, Mistress. Consider what a hub 
 bub the news would cause an it were found out. I can 
 remember the bells of Kendal church being rung back 
 ward when his ship was seen off the coast." 
 
 " Surely you are to blame, sir, that a spirit of so much 
 resource and_ bravery was not bended to nobler purposes. 
 Trust me, in some respects others have been more guilty 
 than he hath." 
 
 " You say that he is blind? " 
 
 " Alas ! struck blind by lightning." 
 
 "And rich?" 
 
 " I think that he can pave his way into any house with 
 gold. An you shut him out of yours, I shall keep 
 Chenage and go to him." 
 
 " I will have time to think o'er the matter. For my 
 life I cannot understand your infatuation. But if he is to 
 be at Chenage, as well be at De Burg. For you know, 
 Asia, I am extremely at your mercy, loving you, as I do, 
 with all my. life." 
 
 " I have known better men than you, Father, to lie 
 about love and gold, but I will take your words and 
 credit them. And as your anger mends not the past, 
 why should it wrong the future ? Must John's gold pass 
 De Burg ? The king has pardoned him ; the lightning 
 spared his life. Surely you, being his father, may give 
 him shelter." 
 
 " I shall be credited with some partnership in his 
 crimes." 
 
 " Have you so little opinion of your own standing ? 
 When did you begin to fear the ' say so ' of your neigh 
 bour? But, indeed, John spoke somewhat of southern 
 France, and 't was only for my sake he came here ; and 
 faith ! though he were beggar, as well as blind, he should 
 not come to me for love and lack it."
 
 4IO FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " If it was I " 
 
 " Suffering in the same kind, I would stand for you to 
 the same extent." 
 
 " I expect no such miracle of love. 'T is a hard case. 
 I must lose your presence and let De Burg go to ruin, or 
 I must save both to myself by the aid and the presence 
 of a double-dyed villain." 
 
 " As I have been told, it was so that De Burg came 
 to us. Could John be worse than that Lord Avenal 
 de Burg who turned out upon the snow-covered moors 
 one hundred nuns from this house? I have heard that 
 the rest of his wicked deeds he wrote on a parchment 
 with his own blood. You have that record, and are 
 proud of it. Tis like enough that future De Burgs 
 will make tales and songs about John. Do you believe 
 he is worse than many others of his age and humour? 
 As for the neighbours, do they keep your will and your 
 opinions, and order your house ? By St. George ! I have 
 more of the spirit of a man than you have." 
 
 " Mind this, Asia, I am neither to be rushed nor bul 
 lied by a woman's tongue. I will take time and thought, 
 and I will do as seems right and honourable to me." 
 
 With that he left her, and Anastasia lifted her lips in 
 scorn for the little bluster, which she saw through very 
 clearly. She had now no doubt as to the result of her 
 offer. The pinch of gold grinds to impalpable dust such 
 fragilities as honour and good report. What De Burg 
 mainly wished to consider was the public stand he should 
 take ; whether it would be best to bluff the truth in the 
 face of all, or accept John as Captain Latour, and ignore 
 all criticism on the subject. 
 
 He was much impressed by the very vagueness of 
 John's reputed wealth. He looked at the great gray 
 pile going to ruin for want of gold, and he determined
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 411 
 
 to sacrifice the passion of hate to the stronger passions 
 which pleaded for its restoration, and for that popu 
 larity and congenial employment which building and 
 reordering his house would give him. 
 
 But he had not that honesty of nature, nor even that 
 common gratitude for help, which would have led him 
 to take his son's hand as well as his son's gold. He 
 resolved to hide all obligation behind the figment of 
 " Captain Latour." People would talk, and very likely 
 would say unkind things of Anastasia, but Anastasia was 
 able to defend her own good name. She was indifferent, 
 also, while he was supersensitive to public opinion, and 
 could not endure the humiliating thought of having to 
 explain himself in the smallest matter. 
 
 He delayed his acceptance of Anastasia's terms for 
 three days, a most unnecessary concession to a con 
 temptible pride. For Anastasia had read his motives 
 from the moment when, hearing of John's riches, he 
 had descended from the plane of his own injured honour 
 to the consideration of the hubbub his neighbours would 
 make, and to the trifling memory of the bells ringing 
 backward. 
 
 As soon as he had noisily shut the door behind him, 
 she began to plan for her brother's comfort. She had 
 chosen for him the rooms he had before occupied, 
 because they would be familiar to him. He would re 
 member the position of doors and windows and hearth, 
 and even of the main pieces of furniture. She had 
 mentally selected the old woman who was to be his 
 constant attendant, and she decided to make the com- 
 fjrts and perquisites of the position sufficient to secure 
 allegiance and discreet silence. 
 
 Before De Burg condescended to advise her of his 
 submission the rooms were so thoroughly cleaned and
 
 412 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 renovated that even a blind man must have been sen 
 sible of their atmosphere of comfort. In less than a 
 week John was at home in them. His removal was ac 
 complished during De Burg's visit to Milnthorpe about 
 the sale of Chenage, and the circumstance was not 
 mentioned to him. He asked no questions, and the 
 few remarks made by the servants regarding the stranger 
 were received with such icy anger that they were never 
 repeated. 
 
 And very soon he was in the midst of a work which 
 satisfied all his desires. John had been more generous 
 than even Anastasia had dreamed of, and De Burg was 
 adding a new wing, and building new stables, and laying 
 out the garden afresh. In the course of a few weeks he 
 had almost forgotten the humiliating condition which had 
 made all this grandeur possible. 
 
 John's gold flowed with ready generosity, and John 
 was never visible to him. This was partly owing to 
 Anastasia's tact, partly to an unacknowledged but very 
 real carefulness on his own part. He knew that on fine 
 days Anastasia walked with her brother either in the 
 park or upon the moor outside it, and he knew that the 
 hour for this recreation was generally mid-afternoon, so 
 at that time he was always with the workmen. 
 
 Neither was he sensible of any diminution in his 
 daughter's attentions. She was ever ready to preside 
 over his meals. She had her old-time alacrity in the 
 discussion of their affairs. She was not a whit less dis 
 posed to differ with his opinions and to contend for her 
 own way. She dressed with her old-time extravagance, 
 she had many new lovers, and was apparently as eager 
 as ever for the honours of the hunting-field and the 
 ball-room. 
 
 But there was another Anastasia of whom the world
 
 ANASTASIA'S BEST SIDE. 413 
 
 had no conception. Only one old woman and one man, 
 blind and helpless, knew her. As soon as she entered 
 John's room her face, her voice, her manner changed. 
 And yet she always brought the world in which she 
 ordinarily lived into it. Sitting by her blind brother's 
 side, she told him every trifle that happened. He knew, 
 through her, all the workmen, and what they were doing, 
 and what progress they made. He saw through her 
 vivid words his father's importance and impetuosity, 
 and heard his comments and his vaunting and his 
 anger. She clipped none of his oaths; she softened 
 nothing of his thrasonical braggadocio and fanfaronade. 
 She told him all about her lovers; she mocked and 
 imitated them ; there was not a man or a woman or 
 a merry-making that he did not see through her eyes. 
 She made him pass his hands over all her finery, and 
 described its colours and beauty. If anything troubled 
 her, if she received a slight or had a quarrel, John 
 knew all about it. 
 
 The sympathy and companionship she craved she had 
 in entire perfection. Shut in his narrow world, with only 
 one creature to love, John made all her feelings his own. 
 And she was under no temptation to deceive him. He 
 enjoyttd her spite and anger and reprisals and cutting 
 words. In his lonely darkness he nursed her small 
 social wrongs, and thought out stinging revenges for 
 her. Whatever consolation John de Burg could derive 
 from the perfect love of a nature kindred to his own 
 was most completely his. 
 
 So the days and weeks passed on. The winter was 
 open, and not unfavourable for much of the work. When 
 it was, the lower rooms were noisy with artisans busy 
 on the carved panels of the wainscoting, or in polishing 
 the woods for the floors and furniture. One afternoon
 
 414 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 Anastasia and her brother were walking slowly across the 
 little strip of moor between the park and the highway. 
 John liked to get from under the trees and feel the wind 
 blowing freely over him. He was leaning on Anastasia's 
 arm, his hat was in his hand, his face was lifted to catch 
 the sunshine and the breeze. They were nearing the 
 outermost corner of the park wall, and were on the point 
 of turning, when a horseman rounded it. It was Na 
 thaniel Kelder, and he realized in a moment not only that 
 he saw John de Burg, but that the man was blind. 
 
 He stopped suddenly, and Anastasia also stood still. 
 She looked into her brother's unconscious face, and then 
 into Nathaniel's. It was a look that spoke with tongue 
 and eyes and heart, a look rapid as thought, pitiful as 
 prayer. It said all that words could have said in a long 
 petition. She dropped John's hand, and stood a trifle 
 before him, the involuntary movement of love ready to 
 defend. The attitude gave to her anxious face a singu 
 lar attraction, a power of entreaty not to be resisted. 
 
 Nathaniel lifted his hat, bowed his head, and rode 
 on. She understood the movement ; it was a promise 
 of oblivion. She took her brother's hand again, and 
 resumed their walk ; but she was haunted by the look 
 in Nathaniel's eyes, the sudden and sad wonder, the 
 quick apprehension, the quick pardon, the infinite pity. 
 A moment revealed all, and she could hardly restrain 
 the sharp cry of soul-pain that parted her lips. 
 
 As for John, he did not even ask who it was. He 
 had once vowed, " by all the devils in hell," to take full 
 vengeance upon Nathaniel Kelder; and Nathaniel had 
 passed him with a prayer of pity, and he knew it not.
 
 XX. 
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 "For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice." 
 
 " From olden faith how many a glorious deed 
 Hath lit the world ! its blood-stained banner led 
 The martyrs heavenward ; yea, it was the seed 
 Of knowledge, whence our modern freedom spread." 
 
 " So will the shine 
 
 Of soul that strikes on soul make fair and fine 
 This earthly tenement. Thou shalt extol 
 The inner, that the outer love'.ier seem." 
 
 / T S HE baron and Lady Kelder were sitting together in 
 * that confidential silence which is satisfied with the 
 nearness of the loved one. Their thoughts were identical 
 in kind, for both were reflecting that the following day 
 would be the fortieth anniversary of their marriage. 
 
 In our age life is so exacting that old people have too 
 often exhausted all poetic feeling, have become indif 
 ferent, and weary as travellers at nightfall. But this 
 happy couple in spite of years had kept the dew of their 
 youth. They were still easily moved and easily pleased. 
 Their hearts blossomed like spring, though near the 
 winter of age ; and their simple dignity, their green 
 intellects, their kindness and ready cheerfulness gave 
 them, in spite of their gray hairs, something of the air 
 and the charm of youth. 
 
 The baron found his lady as beautiful as ever. Her 
 figure was yet erect, her features were noble, her eyes as
 
 41 6 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 young as they were at twenty ; so soft and limpid, as she 
 sat this night opposite him, that he fancied he could look 
 through them into the loving soul behind. A smile 
 tender and gentle completed her face. It was not an 
 inadvertent smile ; it had come naturally from the wife's 
 last glance at her husband. For she had suddenly 
 remembered the coming anniversary, and had with the 
 thought lifted her eyes to him. 
 
 "A man after God's own heart," she whispered ; " and 
 't is the greatest honour I have to be loved by him." 
 
 Then her face saddened slightly ; she was in a little 
 perplexity. Always hitherto she had been able to give 
 him some trifle that he wished for or required as a wed 
 ding token. In their earlier years it had been a hand 
 some garment, a set of laces, a horse, or a purse ; and 
 on one memorable occasion, just before the battle of 
 Marston Moor, the sword which typified her consent 
 and sympathy. 
 
 In later years her tokens had usually taken the form 
 of books. In the baron's corner the oak shelves were 
 full of them, polyglots of Antwerp and Paris, with 
 such colossal theologians as Augustine, Jerome, Aquinas, 
 Calvin. On a lower shelf the dumpy vellums of Dutch 
 divines, at peace beside Bishop Hall and Dr. John 
 Owen and Mr. Richard Baxter; and nearest of all, 
 Francis Bacon and Philip Massinger, Selden and Izaak 
 Walton, with Quarles, Crashaw, Herbert, etc. 
 
 This year she had bought nothing. Their position was 
 so uncertain that money had a value touching things 
 which were invaluable. It might be required for simple 
 existence, for comforts on which life depended ; she did 
 not dare to spend a shilling lest it should afterward be 
 sorely needed. Yet she was troubled at the omission. 
 It had made her heart ache for many days. And she had
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 417 
 
 ransacked her coffers and cabinets in the hope of finding 
 something that, either for its associations or its intrinsic 
 value, might be worthy to offer. Nothing had come of 
 her search, and to-morrow morning she could only give 
 him again the love that was always new and young ; and 
 she did not doubt but that her empty hands would be 
 just as welcome as they were on the day of her bridal. 
 Still, still she wished she had a token. In forty years it 
 was her first failure. Then she remembered the won 
 derfully blessed year in which Nathaniel was born. The 
 boy, the heir, had been her bride-clay gift. So to-morrow 
 was also Nathaniel's birthday. She had not forgotten it, 
 but in this connection it came with a fresh significance. 
 " A good son," she thought, " a dear, good son, a 
 worthy Kelder; and I love him with all my heart." 
 
 To this thought Nathaniel entered. She had grown 
 accustomed to his gradual emaciation, and to the sadness 
 in his eyes ; for he had always a smile for his parents, 
 though one that brightened his face only for the passing 
 moment. He had been to Kendal on important business, 
 and he talked its circumstances fully over before he spoke 
 of his meeting with Anastasia and John de Burg. 
 
 Lady Kelder was intensely curious on this subject ; and 
 when Nathaniel described how the fierce, strong man had 
 been, as it were, shrivelled up by fire and smitten blind by 
 its flash, she trembled, and cried out, " Odinel ! Odinel I 
 You must " Then she ceased, for she saw that the 
 baron had covered his face, and she knew that he was 
 praying. 
 
 After a few moments' silence Nathaniel said, " George 
 Fox was speaking in Kendal to-day." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " He stood upon one of the stone tables in the open 
 fish-market. Yqu know it is but a little space, and quite 
 
 27
 
 41 8 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 surrounded by shops and houses. Every window was 
 thrown open and crowded with men and women, and 
 below him the upturned faces were solid as a floor. 
 Father ! Mother ! I pray you listen patiently to me. I 
 am this night ashamed of my faith, and I find it impossi 
 ble to excuse the things I have heard." 
 
 " Surely the Quakers are not complaining again. Has 
 not the king been very considerate of their claims? " 
 
 " 'T is of the Quakers in New England I speak. Let 
 Puritans no more accuse the Jesuits ; they have far out 
 done them in cruelty and intolerance to men, women, and 
 children." 
 
 " Nathaniel, I wonder not as it concerns women. 
 Women preachers are a moral shock to all good 
 Christians." 
 
 " Tell us briefly, Nathaniel, what George Fox said." 
 
 " There is no need that I tell you of the scourgings 
 and imprisonments, and the doing to death in various 
 ways, that have made the footsteps of Quakers in New 
 England red wet-shod in their own blood. Governor 
 Endecott " l 
 
 " I knew John Endecott, Nathaniel, and I always 
 thought him to be a stout Dorchester man as ever I 
 had dealings with ; a good fighter, and such a one as 
 pleaded for free schools twenty years ago. No drinker, 
 no dicer, and as fond of a garden and an orchard as a 
 boy of his marbles." 
 
 " But now, Father, he is sharpened and hardened by 
 the cruel preachers at his side ; and by their counsel the 
 gallows has been set up for the support of religion. On 
 it they have already hanged " 
 
 " Well then, Nathaniel, we have heard of the hanging 
 of the two men and the woman preacher many a time 
 
 1 Spelled so at this date.
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 419 
 
 and oft, and we have if it please you heard only the 
 Quaker side of the matter. T is like enough they pushed 
 themselves presumptuously where the Lord sent them 
 not ; vain and vulgar men." 
 
 " Indeed, Mother, they were neither vain nor vulgar ; 
 Robinson being the son of a great London merchant, 
 well bred and well learned, and Stephenson a Yorkshire 
 farmer who heard while at his plough the ' call ' which 
 made him instantly leave his wife and children and home 
 and go as the Lord sent him to testify on the gallows set 
 up by priests on Boston Common. As for the woman, 
 Mary Dyar, she was a comely and grave matron, with 
 the soul of an evangelist and martyr. But, as my mother 
 saith, 'tis an old story, and there is newer matter to 
 complain of. On the i4th of last January they hanged 
 William Leddra, a Cornishman 
 
 " But what for, Nathaniel ? 'T is a kind of folly to say 
 a man is hanged and then complain of it, for the punish 
 ment infers the crime." 
 
 " Not so. They could find no fault in him save that 
 he preached Christ without their license, and assured the 
 people that Christ spake truth when he said, ' 1 will come 
 unto you, and abide with you ; ' not that he would send 
 by any priest or preacher. And there are other men 
 left under sentence of death, and women whipped bar 
 barously through the streets, and cruelties unmention 
 able practised. Father ! Mother ! I must away yonder, 
 even if I perish with my friends. I die daily here, I do 
 indeed." 
 
 "Your friends the Prideaux? Are they not in the 
 Dutch colony? " 
 
 " Indeed, I know not. I had short speech with 
 George Fox, and he said he had cause to think that 
 Roger Prideaux was in Boston ; and if he is there and
 
 420 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 in prison, Olivia will " He ceased speaking. A 
 deathly paleness overspread his face, and large tears 
 rolled unchecked from under his closed eyelids. 
 
 Lady Kelder looked at him in silence, and then rose 
 quietly from her chair and left the room. The baron sat 
 musing, with his eyes cast upon the rug at his feet. 
 Silence, pregnant with thought and feeling, brooded 
 between the men. At last the baron spoke. 
 
 " Nathaniel, I wish you to have the voman you love 
 so truly. Go to her ; go to her to-morrow." 
 
 " My mother will never consent ; and unless she give 
 me some token of kindness to Olivia I go in vain. 
 Olivia will not marry me without your blessing and my 
 mother's welcome. That I know most surely. But give 
 me your blessing, Father, and I will go and see her once 
 more ; for my heart is rent with sorrow and anxiety, and 
 I say truly that I am dying day by day." 
 
 " Go, my son, and my blessing with you ! And do 
 not fear concerning the estate. Had De Burg been able 
 to prejudice me therein, we had felt his hand ere this, I 
 think." 
 
 " But if question of this kind should arise while I am 
 away? " 
 
 " I will call upon Strickland, and ask him to plead my 
 cause." 
 
 Nathaniel looked the thanks he felt little able to 
 speak. He was worn out with physical fatigue and 
 mental emotion, and glad to escape to such oblivion as 
 a sleep tormented with fears for Olivia brought him. 
 
 Lady Kelder had gone away to think, but her bitter 
 disquiet did not suffer her for some time to concentrate 
 her mind on the subject filling it. She called Jael, and 
 found that Jael had gone to visit a sick child. She 
 wandered to the window, and with her heart full of the
 
 FOX LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 421 
 
 two men before the parlour fire she looked into the night. 
 The trees, made thin by autumn winds, let her vision 
 sweep through them far off to the horizon, and a feeling 
 of loneliness and immensity widened her soul. She cast 
 her eyes upward, and the heavens spoke to her in their 
 speech; and then, she knew not how, but her heart 
 was softened, and she began to weep. Few and far 
 between are such moments of godlike condition, but 
 they do come, and blessed are they who have the grace 
 to salute them. 
 
 So, as she stood there in the twilight, silent, motion 
 less, humbly receptive to all good influences, she thought 
 of her husband and son as she had never before thought 
 of them and some heavenly power put an idea into her 
 soul that threw all her nature into tumult, a great 
 thought, if she were only great enough to entertain it. 
 She had been longing for a wedding token for her dear 
 lord, and it was shown her how to offer him one most 
 acceptable. But it was a gift only to be given by an 
 absolute surrender of her closest self. Was she able to 
 make so great a sacrifice? As she sat still in the dim 
 light, searching the very depths of her feelings and in 
 tents, Jael entered. She lit the lights and prepared her 
 lady's night toilet, moving very softly about, until Lady 
 Kelder said, 
 
 " Jael, what of the sick child? " 
 
 " Dead, my Lady. Only the soul's leavings there now. 
 A bonny lad, and so like himself to the last moment that 
 it is hard indeed to think of him as changed at all." 
 
 " Poor mother ! " 
 
 " Well, my Lady, Mary Skelton has a big family, seven 
 lads and lasses, and the last one not a month old. He '11 
 get little Geffs name belike, and step into his place." 
 
 " Jael, you speak foolishly. One child can never take
 
 422 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the place of another child. Would I give to any other 
 daughter the place of my lost Alice ? God forbid ! Ah, 
 Jael, the dead loss and the vacant place are better than 
 such compensation." 
 
 This loyal thought toward the dear dead hallowed 
 and softened still more her gentle thoughts of the dear 
 living. She fell asleep with a troubled and tossed and 
 anxious heart, but the spirit of love brooded over the 
 soul's tempest. When Lady Kelder awoke in the morn 
 ing the sunshine was streaming through the east windows, 
 and she opened her eyes with a smile. Jael, busy about 
 her lady's toilet, noticed her cheerful alacrity; noticed 
 also that her usual morning fret was lost in a silent pre 
 occupation that had nothing unhappy about it. But she 
 thought the mood well accounted for by the anniversary 
 it held in memory. 
 
 Now, there are some gracious souls who like to make 
 the doing of a kindness a sort of personal festival. Lady 
 Kelder bid Jael bring her handsomest silk robe, and she 
 watched its arrangement before her mirror with a critical 
 pleasure. Deep ruffles of fine English point shaded her 
 yet beautiful hands, and a hood of the same lace fell 
 with a picturesque and veil-like grace across her white 
 hair. Jael settled every fold of lace and silk with a 
 proud approval ; and as the love of inferiors is generally 
 grounded upon personal or social advantages, she left 
 her mistress that morning exceedingly conscious of her 
 superiority to all other women. 
 
 For a few minutes Lady Kelder stood motionless in 
 the centre of her room. The sunshine fell all over her 
 noble face and figure, her silk robe glistened in it, and 
 her hands with the white ruffles above them had a start 
 ling delicacy against its sombre splendor. To her still 
 face and dropped eyelids it gave a specially luminous
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 423 
 
 character, for as she stood thus she was blind to outward 
 surroundings ; she was searching with spiritual vision the 
 very depths of her nature. 
 
 She was asking herself: "Can I do this thing with 
 all my heart? Can I do it without reservation? Can 
 I do it not only at this hour, but during all the days of 
 my. life?" Still as the woman stood and looked, she 
 was fighting a great battle. " Can I do it ? Can I do 
 it cheerfully? Can I do it all my life?" For a few 
 minutes this solemn inquisition impressed a serious 
 religious gravity upon her countenance. 
 
 " For my dear love's sake ! For my dear son's sake ! 
 For my Lord Christ's sake, I can do it ! I can do it with 
 all my heart and for all my life ! " She whispered the 
 words to God and herself; and as she did so her face 
 grew bright, and she lifted clear open eyes to the heaven 
 which by faith she apprehended. 
 
 As this act of self-renunciation was accomplished, she 
 heard the baron's voice. He was in the garden beneath 
 her window, and with a strange and happy exaltation she 
 went to greet him ; and as she was a very woman, she 
 was conscious, even in its higher atmosphere, of a certain 
 pleasure in her rich apparel and handsome appearance. 
 
 The baron stood with his son a little way down the 
 main avenue. They were talking of Nathaniel's proposed 
 voyage, and the young man leaned against the straight 
 bole of a large larch-tree. The baron stood erect, fac 
 ing him, and he had a few late flowers in his hand. Lady 
 Kelder called their names in a joyful voice, and daintily 
 lifting her silk skirt to avoid the dew on the shrubs, went 
 toward them. Both turned their faces, alight with love 
 and admiration, ceasing from speech to watch her ap 
 proach. With a pleasant imperiousness she took the 
 first word.
 
 424 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Odinel ! Husband ! Dearest heart ! This day I give 
 myself again to you. Nathaniel, this day I thank God 
 again for your birth ; and for my wedding token to you, 
 Odinel, and for my birth token to you, Nathaniel, I have 
 one true gift, my heart's welcome to the girl Nathaniel 
 loves. She shall be to you and me, Odinel, as a dear 
 daughter ; and I surely believe she will be to you, 
 Nathaniel, a true and loving wife." 
 
 It was a supreme sacrifice and a supreme thanksgiving 
 under the drooping larch branches. A few words sprang 
 hot from each heart, and Nathaniel kissed the happy tears 
 off his mother's eyelids, and Lady Kelder kissed them off 
 her husband's and her son's. Somehow the white late 
 flowers were in her hand, and her hand was on her hus 
 band's arm, and Nathaniel, radiant and smiling, was 
 walking at her side. 
 
 And she was not a woman to retract a tittle of her gift. 
 On the contrary, she entered into Nathaniel's plans with 
 a generous detail. She wrote a letter of welcome to 
 Olivia, and stinted no word of her loving right as an 
 adopted daughter of her house. She packed Nathaniel's 
 clothing, and gave him wise and practical advice as to 
 his marriage ; and she sent a swift messenger to Han 
 nah Mettelane to inform her of Nathaniel's intentions, 
 and bring back such letters as she desired to send. And 
 when, on the second morning afterward, Nathaniel left 
 Kelderby for his long journey, she bravely kept her cheer 
 ful heart to the last moment, and sent him away with her 
 love and blessing. 
 
 Perhaps she had some doubtful and unhappy moments 
 in the solitude of her room, but not even Jael knew of 
 them. For to Jael she had accepted Olivia as her future 
 daughter with such a complete ignoring of her former 
 dislike as forbade any allusion to it.
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 425 
 
 "My son goes to America to bring home Mistress 
 Prideaux as his wife," she said with a calm complaisance. 
 " T is a good marriage, and a great content to the baron 
 and myself. And as 't is the first marriage in Kelderby 
 in forty years, we will bring home the bride with songs 
 and garlands and a great feast. That is but right, I 
 think." And Jael looked at her placid face, and accepted 
 the situation without remark or demur. For in its haughty 
 reticence it said as plainly as possible : " I have changed 
 my opinions. I choose to forget. I choose to accept 
 what I once rejected, and I will suffer no remarks on my 
 conduct." 
 
 In the mean time Olivia was quite unconscious of the 
 joy hastening to meet her. Her mind, open and thought 
 ful as silence, had long ago admitted that there never yet 
 was gain without some loss in it. She had not found the 
 wilderness free from bewildering human mysteries and 
 agonies, and her needs there had often been as close and 
 urgent, and heaven and help apparently as far off, as ever 
 she had found them in the crowded habitations of men. 
 Life came to her uncalled for, and from every point ; and 
 she was touched and moved by influences flowing in, she 
 knew not how or whence. 
 
 Nothing had happened just as Roger had planned. 
 His proposed settlement had been broken up by circum 
 stances no human foresight could have prevented ; and 
 instead of " settling," the way had been opened for 
 travel and preaching in a remarkable manner. It was 
 more than a year after touching American soil before he 
 had a house of his own ; and then every room in it, ex 
 cepting the one built especially for Olivia, was a " pro 
 phet's room," and " Prideaux's " soon became known 
 as a resting-place and a gathering-place for all Friends 
 passing to and fro on religious journeys.
 
 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 So, then, the solitude and quiet which Olivia had an 
 ticipated were not realized. The house was never empty 
 of guests : there were many meetings and discussions, 
 and people coming and going ; and even if she went far 
 into the woods for meditation, she was not sure but others 
 of like mind would meet her there. 
 
 One morning early in November this perpetuity of 
 companionship fretted her calm soul to the verge of tears. 
 She could not help wondering if there would not be, 
 among the hills of God, " coverts " where " rest in the 
 Lord " could not be broken in upon. She knew there 
 was an inward peace which could consume like a fire all 
 murmur of discontent, but she could not reach it while 
 Anna Copeland was telling Rachel Sanderson of her great 
 deliverances, and Roger and three men Friends were 
 sitting together for directions. 
 
 Yet she blamed herself for her inability ; she believed 
 her weakness grew out of vain longings, and thoughts 
 which were so sacredly personal that she could share 
 them with no earthly being. For never had the memo 
 ries of the past haunted her so vividly and so persistently. 
 She had not been able to listen to Anna Copeland for 
 the sound of the bees in the clover fields round Mette- 
 lane, and from Mettelane to Sandys and Kelderby how 
 swift was the soul- flight ! 
 
 It was an exquisite day, full of that still serenity which 
 precedes the advent of winter. The sun was pale, the 
 air subtle. The trees had suffered their yearly enchant 
 ment, and now and then they talked soughfully among 
 themselves, in soft murmurs, with long silences between. 
 She sat down under a large maple, and at first her gaze 
 was full of that total indifference which comes from sheer 
 weariness ; perhaps also from some disappointment, as if 
 she had looked at her ideals too closely, a fatal mistake 
 in life.
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 427 
 
 She appeared a little older, but still had that virginal 
 beauty of promise which sets " the budding rose above 
 the rose full blown ; " and as she sat musing under the 
 great vault of bare branches it was difficult to say what 
 of the unknown and unseen was in her lonely simplicity. 
 
 She was thinking of Nathaniel ; recalling his nobility 
 of nature, the eager tenderness of his wooing, the sor 
 rowful atmosphere in which their love had grown. Often, 
 she had thus thought of him, until the sense of his pres 
 ence had been so sure and so sweet that she had lifted 
 her eyes to see if he were not coming, and listening 
 intently had thought she heard his voice calling her. For 
 the ear has its own memory. It watches for an accus 
 tomed sound, and sometimes imagination will not let it 
 be disappointed. 
 
 This morning, when the same sense of nearness made 
 her heart beat and her face flame with hope, she did not 
 raise her head. Movement would break the spell ; she 
 would hold it breathless, and save the influence to the 
 last moment. But it did not fade away ; it grew stronger. 
 There was a strange stir among the fallen leaves ; a fa 
 miliar sound of quick, even steps ; a low, intense voice 
 calling her ; some one coming nearer, nearer, some 
 one different from all others, infinitely dearer and closer. 
 
 She stood up and cast her eyes down the narrow path. 
 There could be no mistake. The tall, erect figure, the 
 clear, happy face, searching the woods as it came on 
 ward, were the figure and the face of Nathaniel Kelder. 
 She went swiftly to meet him. She answered his call with 
 a whisper on his lips. 
 
 Nathaniel could have come at no more favourable mo 
 ment. Her heart had been pleading for him longer than 
 she knew ; for it had learned many things in exile that 
 she had not intended it to learn. Among these things
 
 428 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 was the conviction that God was not more easily found 
 in solitude than in the stress of daily life ; that the soul 
 makes her own peace quite as often in the strife of cities 
 as in the loneliness of the woods ; that in loving and doing 
 and suffering it is possible to be closer to the Divinity 
 than in simple meditation. 
 
 These convictions, so easily stated, had been arrived 
 at only through disappointment and sorrow ; and they 
 were not explained to Nathaniel without sweet delays 
 and mutual confessions and experiences. When they 
 returned to the house Roger was sitting alone at his door. 
 He was greatly changed. The pious, kindly master of 
 Sandys had become an enthusiast and evangelist, 
 rugged, muscular, sunbrowned, and though spotlessly 
 neat, dressed in the plainest materials. His eyes kindled 
 when he took Nathaniel's hand, and then he looked at 
 Olivia with inexpressible love and resignation. 
 
 " Thou art come for Olivia? " 
 
 " Yea, Roger. Deny me no longer, I entreat you." 
 
 " I cannot deny thee what God hast given thee. For 
 the last month I have felt an evidence that the Lord 
 would break my last tie. Henceforward I am only his. 
 He can send me through the wilderness, or to the lands 
 far off. What news for the Lord's people hast thou 
 brought?" 
 
 " I have brought news full of hope and comfort. 
 Edward Burrough has made all the sufferings of the 
 American Friends known to King Charles." 
 
 "Will he care for them, Nathaniel? Nay, for his 
 heart is wholly set on the pleasures of this world." 
 
 " He cares for his own authority, which the Massachu 
 setts Colony have held in contempt." 
 
 "In what special? " 
 
 " Some Friend, denied all show of justice in Boston,
 
 FOR LOl'E'S SAKE. 429 
 
 appealed to the laws of England ; and Denison mockingly 
 bade him do so, saying, ' This year ye will go to complain 
 to the Parliament, and the next year they will send to see 
 how it is, and the third year the government is changed.' 
 And when the king read these words he called his cour 
 tiers round him and with great significance said, 'Lo, 
 these are my good subjects in New England ; but I will 
 put a stop to them.' " 
 
 " Ah ! His own rights being in question." 
 
 "Then Edward Burrough spoke boldly before Charles, 
 and showed him what a vein of innocent blood had been 
 opened in his dominions ; and the king angrily cried, ' I 
 will stop that vein.' ' Then do it speedily, O King ! ' 
 answered Burrough. ' As speedily as you will. Call the 
 secretary, and I will do it now,' said Charles. And so 
 there and then he wrote to John Endecott, and to all 
 and every other governor of plantations in New England, 
 that they should cease to punish or even judge Quakers ; 
 but that if they did aught worthy of trial, they should be 
 sent to London for judgment." 
 
 " When it pleases God, kings shall plead for us." 
 
 " Also the king's message was sent to Governor Ende 
 cott by the hand of Samuel Shattuck." 
 
 " Friend Samuel Shattuck ! " 
 
 " Yea, the despised Quaker, driven from his home by 
 Boston priests, goes back as the representative of their 
 sovereign, carrying with him a crushing token of the 
 royal anger. I see not how Endecott will endure it. 
 My father knew him once, and thought well of him." 
 
 " In some things I also think well of him. He has 
 taught the little settlements the wisdom of unity, and 
 brought over many good men by his good government." 
 
 " But he is a bigot, or he had not cut from the flag the 
 sign of his salvation."
 
 430 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " 'T was, I think, a deed of passion against a foreign 
 power anxious to recall the charter of New England and 
 establish episcopacy. For truly, with the carefulness of 
 a crusader, he wears always the sacred symbol clearly 
 marked in the form of his beard, a perpetual witness, 
 Nathaniel. And he is such a man as will not bear op 
 position, and the priests set him on fire through his 
 prejudices." 
 
 " 'T is the great mystery of our religion, this tyranny 
 and brutality of the priesthood." 
 
 " Nay, 't is no mystery, Nathaniel. The influence of 
 priests rests, upon the idea that they are endowed with 
 attributes denied to common men ; that they only can 
 interpret God's word and declare his will. But our God 
 speaks not in riddling oracles, and why should he want 
 an interpreter between himself and the soul which came 
 forth from him ? Nor are these priests in any way better 
 than we be. No extra sense is given them for the great 
 place .they usurp. They have a full tale of mortal frail 
 ties. They are sick as other men are, and death comes 
 to them with no special reverence. Then thou must see 
 that if men listen to the voice of God within them the 
 voice of the priest must fail, and the power of the minis 
 ters will be broken. They are their own Diana ; and they 
 would persecute Paul, or Peter, or Christ himself, if they 
 preached anything by which their craft was in danger to 
 be set at naught. Dost thou wonder, then, that Friends 
 are hated by them ? That John Wilson, priest in Boston, 
 should scream out in his pulpit, ' I would carry fire in 
 one hand and fagots in the other, and burn all the Quak 
 ers in the world.' That John Higginson, another priest, 
 -ihould preach, ' The Inner Light is a stinking vapour from 
 Hell.' That John Rayner, a priest of Dover, should stand 
 laughing for joy to see Man' Tomkins and Alice Ambrose
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 431 
 
 flogged through the town on a freezing day for saying 
 ' the Inner Light was none other but Christ, who lighteth 
 every man that cometh into the world.' " 
 
 " Oh ! I wonder men with English blood in them 
 suffered such things in their sight and hearing." 
 
 " They did not. The priests gloried in stripes and 
 torture, but the people cut the bleeding women from the 
 cart which dragged them, and saved them from an awful 
 death. Priest Norton sneered and mocked at the agonies 
 of William Brend, but the people of Boston succoured the 
 victim of one hundred and seventeen lashes as he lay 
 senseless on the floor of his dark cell. Charles Chauncy, 
 preaching, told his congregation, since ' they could not 
 have the blood of the Southwicks by law, to kill them 
 like wolves.' Oh, and much more I could add, Nathaniel ; 
 for priests have ever exhausted human torments in slay 
 ing those who rebelled against the enslavement of their 
 own souls." 
 
 " We are free men, Roger." 
 
 " Not if our noblest part is in thrall to a man-made 
 priesthood. But I can see the day surely coming when 
 men, having full liberty of thought and speech and 
 worship, shall reverence the names of those despised 
 Quakers." 
 
 " Yea, Roger ; and great as are the givers of political 
 freedom, the men who have wrestled for us with the 
 powers of darkness for spiritual freedom will be the 
 heroes who shall have the world's eternal gratitude." 
 
 " And then, Nathaniel, truly these men, who are now 
 thought to be nobodies, who are dead and buried, shall 
 have their lives searched, and their memory shall be 
 hallowed forever." 
 
 He ceased suddenly, with the glow of this anticipated 
 triumph lighting up his rugged face, and kindling his
 
 432 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 dreamy, wistful eyes into a flame of rapturous predic 
 tion. Then there was silence for a few minutes, and 
 Nathaniel, with a heart full of happiness, watched Olivia 
 setting out the service for the midday meal, and going 
 in and out about her household duties with the same 
 serene grace and dignity that had made her so charm 
 ing as mistress of Sandys. Indeed this beloved interest 
 had been so present that Roger's passionate arraignment 
 and prophetic justification had not touched Nathaniel 
 as they might have done. In his own happiness it was 
 so difficult to be sorrowful for the misery of others ; in 
 the joy of the present hour he did not feel much the 
 satisfaction of some far-off victory over wrong. 
 
 It cost him a slight effort to say, " King Charles has 
 also been kind to the Friends in England. Many are 
 out of prison, and they have a sort of right to speak 
 for themselves. A few days before I left, John Duttred 
 met a Friend in open argument in Kendal town-hall." 
 
 Roger lifted his face to Nathaniel's, and there was a 
 fine pity on it as he answered, 
 
 " With such clumsy tools as arguments and logic, men 
 only fumble at the lock of the spiritual world. I tell 
 thee, Nathaniel, that if thou desirest truth, seek it by 
 listening to the voice of God in thy soul. Divine faith 
 and love come not through the reason or the intellect ; 
 they are a divine work in the soul. 
 
 " ' Who that one moment hath the least descried Him, 
 Dimly and faintly, hidden and afar, 
 Doth not despise all excellence beside Him ? 
 Pleasures and powers that are not, and that are ? ' " 
 
 " Yea ; if we had all vision, Roger." 
 "Vision in the spiritual world is like vision in the 
 natural world, of no use unless there is light. Be
 
 FOR LOVE'S SAKE. 
 
 433 
 
 more inward with thy God, Nathaniel. If thou canst 
 commune with thy own spirit, canst thou not also com 
 mune with the Spirit of God which is within thee ? A 
 poor man, a poor man indeed, is he who has not been 
 far beyond arguments and logic in spiritual matters." 
 
 " You go deep and high, yet I presume not to limit." 
 
 " Who can limit the experiences of a soul bared to all 
 the influences of God's special revelations? It is im 
 possible to say what the Lord Jesus Christ will do for 
 those willing to live through him as he lives through 
 the Father." 
 
 " As regards this world, Roger, nothing has happened 
 as you expected ? " 
 
 "The plans I made failed, for God had better ones. 
 I thought to do so and so, but from which things I have 
 been hindered and withholden by that Hand which is 
 my guide and helper." 
 
 Spiritual things had become so much Roger's life that 
 it was not until the close of the day that he remembered 
 certain worldly affairs would have to be attended to in 
 regard to his daughter's marriage. " Thou wilt have to 
 take thy wife without money, Nathaniel; I have spent 
 much and I shall spend all in the cause of truth. For 
 this reason God blessed me in my business, and when I 
 would have sat down in fair Sandys he tore my nest to 
 pieces and said unto me, ' Go east and west and preach 
 a free and everlasting gospel.' " 
 
 " I want neither gold nor silver. I want only Olivia." 
 
 " My sister Hannah is indeed rich, and in the way of 
 prob.ibilities " - 
 
 " We will not speak of them." 
 
 " Thou wilt be a kind husband to her? " 
 
 " I promise it." 
 
 Roger's eyes were full of tears, and Olivia coming into
 
 434 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 the room quickly noticed his emotion. She went to 
 him, and laying her cheek against his cheek, said, 
 
 " Father, if thou art sorrowful, where then is our 
 joy?" 
 
 " Though I drop tears, think not that I am left com 
 fortless. The same goodness that was my morning light 
 is now my evening song. I have an apprehension of 
 duty to visit the West Indies. When thou art gone 
 away with Nathaniel I shall go there." 
 
 " 'Tis a long way, Father." 
 
 " Far or near, every way is the way home. I have 
 often gone through the wilderness hungry and thirsty and 
 weary as to the flesh, but so upheld by His Spirit that I 
 felt as if my feet took no hold on the ground." 
 
 Then he rose and went out to some Friends sitting in 
 the shade of a great tree, but his smile was a benediction 
 as he left the lovers together.
 
 XXI. 
 KELDERBY AND SANDYS. 
 
 " She surpassed 
 
 All of her own age in beauty and mind, 
 Therefore the noblest man of wide Troy married her." 
 
 " After Sorrow's night 
 Dawned the morning bright; 
 In dewy woods I heard 
 A golden-throated bird, 
 
 And ' Love, love, love,' it sang, 
 And ' Love, love, love.' '' 
 
 A S Nathaniel wished to return by the same ship that 
 ** brought him to America, it was necessary to hasten 
 the arrangements for his marriage with Olivia. But these 
 were of the simplest description, for both Puritans and 
 Friends alike regarded the marriage covenant as one of 
 too solemn and significant a character to be consum 
 mated with laughter and merry-making. 
 
 The weather was singularly beautiful. The late Indian 
 summer lingered for the lovers' joy. They spent hours 
 together in the still forest, conscious of the serene sky 
 above them and of the woody fragrance which their 
 soft, slow feet pressed from out the fallen leaves, as 
 anew and anew they told their hearts to each other, in 
 words old as Paradise, yet young and fresh as to-day's 
 poet sings them. 
 
 " I love you, sweet ! How can you ever learn how 
 much I love you? " 
 
 " Thee I love even so, and so I learn it."
 
 436 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 " Sweet, you cannot know how fair you are." 
 
 " If fair enough to earn thy love, so much is all my 
 love's concern." 
 
 " My love grows hourly, sweet." 
 
 " Mine too doth grow, yet love seemed full so many 
 hours ago." 
 
 " Ah ! happy they to whom such words as these 
 
 In youth have served for speech the whole day long, 
 Hour after hour remote from the world's throng ; 
 Work, contest, fame, all life's confederate pleas, 
 What while Love breathed in sighs and silences, 
 Through two blent souls, one rapturous under-song." 
 
 But at length the sweet, short interval was over. The 
 ship was ready to sail with the evening tide, and in the 
 morning about twenty Friends gathered at " Prideaux's " 
 to witness the troth- plighting. The Countess Mordee 
 was among them. On the day previous she had brought 
 to Olivia a present of some exquisite lace of Brussels, and 
 remained to assist her in its arrangement upon the white 
 lawn which was to be the wedding garment. 
 
 So that Nathaniel did not take his bride without some 
 of the insignia of the wonderful event. Fairies might 
 have woven the delicate, transpicuous tissue of flowers 
 of finest thread which gave to her simple robe the effect 
 of lace-like gossamer. A veil of the same illusive beauty 
 fell across her bright brown hair. A Bible bound in sil 
 ver also the gift of the motherly countess was in 
 her hand. " Look now, Olivia," she said ; " it was the 
 gift of a very good man. It was my own wedding book, 
 and upon it I have asked for thyself and thy husband 
 the marriage blessing desired by the young Hebrew 
 bridegroom, ' Mercifully ordain that we may grow old 
 together.' " And tears of fond remembrance filled her 
 eyes : she looked backward nearly fifty years to see her
 
 KELDERBY AND SANDYS. 437 
 
 own bridal, and then, mid-way life, the green grave of 
 her companion. 
 
 At sunset the hour of parting came, but it was not a 
 parting without hope. Roger had such a confidence in 
 the love of God that he believed he would sometime send 
 him by way of England, and thus permit him to see his 
 daughter's happiness in her own home and native land. 
 A few natural tears were shed, and then Nathaniel and 
 Olivia looked together into their future with the gladness 
 of those who have no self-reproaches. 
 
 In about ten weeks they were in London ; and a few 
 hours after their arrival Nathaniel, walking on the Strand, 
 met Baron Strickland and his bride. 
 
 " I count this a fortunate meeting," said the young 
 noble, " for I assure you it is full time you kissed the 
 king's hand. If your friends had not been as ready to 
 make excuses as your enemies were to make complaints, 
 I surely think ere this the Kelders would have lost 
 Kelderby." 
 
 " It is your kindness I must honour, Strickland, and 
 your advice goes well with my own intentions." 
 
 " I shall see the king to-night. Let me ask for an 
 audience for you." 
 
 " You will do me a great service if you do." 
 
 " I will bring you word to-morrow. If his Majesty 
 receives your visit and accepts your allegiance, it puts 
 you out of all fear." 
 
 The friendship intended by this offer was gratefully ac 
 cepted, and the following day Strickland brought a favour 
 able answer. The evening named, however, would occa 
 sion a delay in London of nearly two weeks. 
 
 "A fortunate delay," said Strickland. "It will per 
 mit you to provide a suitable dress. And let me assure 
 you that the king is a great observer of such matters."
 
 438 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 This was good news to accompany the letters to Kel- 
 derby and Mettelane, and the messenger was urged to 
 make all possible speed. In both homes he was ex 
 pected and watched for. Love is a close calculator, and 
 the possibility of his arrival had been surmised for some 
 days. 
 
 The winter hitherto had been an open one, but there 
 was every sign of an approaching storm. With anxious 
 hearts the baron and Lady Kelder watched it coming. 
 The distant hills were already turbaned with great bands 
 of snow ; the bleak, leafless garden was still and sad un 
 der the lowering, threatening clouds; the dull sky was 
 fast darkening down to the edges of the dull sea. The 
 baron walked thoughtfully about the room ; Lady Kelder 
 had her " Book of Religious Meditations " upon her knee, 
 but her own meditations were far closer to her sympa 
 thies. Then came the sharp shower of sonorous hail, and 
 after it the soft, thick flakes of the mesmerizing snow. 
 While the storm lasted day to day must be so like, so 
 very like. 
 
 The baron sat hopelessly down, and with Lady Kelder 
 began to count again the weeks of Nathaniel's absence, 
 and to persuade themselves it was really foolish to expect 
 his arrival for some indefinite time. While they were 
 thus engaged Jael entered, and with suppressed excite 
 ment said, 
 
 " Here be a gentlemanly make of a man from London, 
 from the young master. All is well, my Lady, well 
 as can be; nothing but prosperation, as I can hear of; 
 and God bless us all ! " 
 
 " Bring him here at once, Jael. Why not? " 
 
 " My Lady, he is beat out, and is having a few odd 
 ments of meat and bread. He left Kendal at strike of 
 day, and has had a fight to get in with the storm."
 
 KELDERBY AND SANDYS. 439 
 
 The storm now meant little to Kelderby. Nathaniel 
 was in London with his wife. Nathaniel was going to 
 court with her, and in that event it was likely the weary 
 suspense they had so long endured would be over. Every 
 one was so greatly excited that Lady Kelder could not 
 avoid a little scornful criticism on the mood. 
 
 " I vow, they are as set up with the coming of the bride 
 as if it were her Majesty ; but, God knows, it is the feast 
 ing they look for that moves them so. Quaker or queen 
 will do for an occasion." 
 
 " Is feasting a necessity, Joan ? " 
 
 " Let me tell you, Odinel, if we make not some show 
 of company our neighbours will say the bride is not to our 
 liking. And matters being as they are, the bride is very 
 much to our liking, as far as the general public are 
 concerned." 
 
 " I think, dear, that privately also we shall soon enjoy 
 the same opinion." 
 
 " Odinel, what say you ? Shall we ask Mistress Met- 
 telane to meet her niece here?" 
 
 " It is a kind thought, Joan ; 't is most like you. There 
 is no holdback in your grace." 
 
 The praise was pleasant to her, and she smiled with a 
 happy complaisance as she added, " I have a mind now 
 to take, with Olivia, all that belongs to her." 
 
 " Mistress Mettelane is a good woman, and well spoken 
 of. She is rich, also, and it may be 
 
 " If she be rich, that is a cloak big enough to cover all 
 her faults. But in truth, Odinel, I thought not of her 
 riches. I am sure that some will want to talk to me about 
 Olivia as if they disparaged Nathaniel's wife, and I shall 
 not let slip such occasions to say, ' Here is also my daugh 
 ter's aunt, Mistress Mettelane, and a very dear friend of 
 mine.' If all others are silent, be sure Mistress Duttred
 
 44O FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 will push in Olivia's Quakerism. She will find ways and 
 means to bring in that discourse, though it be by head 
 and shoulders ; and it is most like to be in a manner of 
 pleasing me by praising me. ' 'T is a great trial as ever 
 any poor lady had, and you have a large charity,' and 
 the like words ; and I shall say, ' Mistress Duttred, there 
 is greater charity in the Word than you and I have yet 
 found out, and 't was there I got the warrant, not only to 
 love my neighbour, but to judge her not.' Oh, I assure 
 you, Odinel, that if our friends will flout at either they 
 shall be forced to their ill-nature without a veil of my 
 finding." 
 
 When the storm was over the proposed invitation was 
 sent to Mistress Mettelane, and the preparations for Na 
 thaniel and his bride commenced. Concerning them 
 Lady Kelder was almost hypersensitive. The finest wing 
 in the house was chosen for their occupancy, and she 
 took a careful pleasure in making everything in it fit her 
 own exact and rigorous ideas of what was included in her 
 promise to accept Olivia as her daughter. 
 
 Yet alone she had moments of bitterest sorrow, and 
 she did not look forward to the consummation of her 
 personal sacrifice without many mournful reflections. 
 
 "I shall never feel the same again. Kelderby will 
 never be the same : a strange woman going about the 
 house, always there, morning, noon, and night ; how 
 can I bear it? I have been chief and only here ; now I 
 shall have to endure the homage given to this superex- 
 celling creature. I shall even be obliged to add my 
 pinch of incense to the general oblation burnt in her 
 honour. 'T is a hard case, indeed, to have to change all 
 when life is so near its close. W T ell, then, it is perhaps 
 the loosing of the link which is to scatter the whole chain. 
 God help me ! He only knows how much easier it is to
 
 KELDERBY AND SANDYS. 441 
 
 make a fine resolution than to work it out hour by hour, 
 and day by day." 
 
 There were a few tears in her eyes, the tears of age 
 are cold and few. Once her heartache would have been 
 washed away in a warm and plenteous rain, leaving life 
 calm and clear-skyed after it ; now such clarifying storms 
 were almost impossible to her. 
 
 She was taking from her dower chests scented linen 
 and fine tapestry hangings, and the act was a tangible 
 translation of the sacredness of her promise. Was it 
 made less precious by the heavy solitary drops that 
 sealed its honesty of purpose ? Alas, no ! the sorrows 
 of the aged must count for double. Their sense of loss 
 looks for no redemption -from the morrow. 
 
 The baron never guessed how hard a "discipline his 
 wife was bearing, or he would have made it lighter by a 
 constant loving sympathy ; and the household mainly 
 believed her to be thoroughly enjoying the coming 
 change. Jael, however, knew precisely how her lady 
 carried the cup she had to drink ; for to Jael Lady Kel- 
 der made few pretences of any kind ; and having once 
 signified her resolution to receive Nathaniel's wife pub 
 licly with honourable welcome, she permitted herself 
 privately that sincerity of speech which she knew Jael 
 would respect. 
 
 It was some gratification also to point out her self- 
 denial ; even Jael's approval was pleasant. It was in 
 deed the only human approval she could expect, and 
 there are few hearts whom the Divinity quite satisfies. 
 
 " If my son were bringing me a daughter worthy of 
 my utmost honour, could I do more, Jael? I intend 
 Nathaniel's wife to have all her due, Jael." 
 
 " My Lady, you have been generous beyond all, the 
 best room, the newest furniture, a maid hired for my
 
 442 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 young lady's own use. If you could only give her a 
 little love " 
 
 " Love is not bought in the market-place, Jael. I try 
 to be considerate. Is not Mistress Mettelane asked to 
 meet her niece ? At any hour now I may have to enter 
 tain her ; and she is quite my inferior, and a church- 
 woman as well. I know little about church- women." 
 
 " They aim to be about right, I should say, my Lady. 
 And as we begin to age we can give our hearts a bit of 
 favour, and leave the young ones to see that things are 
 kept straight. Mistress Mettelane wrote you a very proper 
 letter. I never heard tell of a properer one. I could 
 not help thinking that it was well such a good one had 
 had the bringing up of Master Nathaniel's wife. She 's 
 well come of, I '11 warrant." 
 
 She is a statesman's 1 daughter, and some of these 
 statesmen have coats-of-arms older than a crusader. I 
 don't know about the Mettelanes'." 
 
 " We may as well hope they are pretty old. But this 
 or that, she has plenty of the ' wherewith ; ' and it is little 
 matter, my Lady, whether gold be old or freshly minted." 
 
 " If the girl were not a Quakeress." 
 
 " My Lady, a rose is a rose wherever it grows." 
 
 " But differences in roses, Jael, hedge roses and 
 garden roses. You cannot pin a woman with a proverb. 
 And if you don't want roses of any kind, what then, 
 Jael? I have shed more tears lately than I thought 
 ever to shed again." 
 
 " If your heart is full, weep, my Lady ; 't is the un 
 shed tears that are never wiped away." 
 
 Such conversations had their use ; for to do kind 
 deeds, and then take in private a little grumble about 
 their necessity, is the condition making much public 
 
 l A landowner
 
 KELDERBY AA'D SAA'DYS. 443 
 
 virtue possible ; and many a trouble comes with a bless 
 ing in its hand. When Hannah Mettelane arrived, the 
 hospitable instincts of Lady Kelder led her to give a 
 welcome whose kindness left nothing to desire, and 
 every moment afterward the two women drew closer 
 together. 
 
 On the third evening of her visit, they were going 
 together through the rooms which had been put in such 
 beautiful order for the coming bride. Hannah Mette 
 lane walked between the baron and Lady Kelder ; and 
 having admired and suggested until the subject was 
 exhausted, they sat down before the blazing fire which 
 was already brightening Nathaniel's private parlour. 
 
 Hannah had become very quiet. Her heart was busy, 
 and her large, intelligent eyes moved with a slow specu 
 lation between her companions. 
 
 " You have made a home beyond everything for the 
 children," she said ; " and I know about what it costs. 
 I mean in love, and in other feelings mayhap still more 
 unselfish. I could n't have done it. I like my house to 
 myself, and I had my little plan about the children. 
 You see, I thought of Sandys." 
 
 " Sandys ! " said the baron. " I thought your brother 
 sold Sandys." 
 
 " He sold it to me. I thought it a pity to let such 
 a fine bit of land go out of the family. Indeed, after 
 Cromwell's death it would have been hard for Roger to 
 get any one to look at the title he could give ; and many 
 thought in the general turn-up at the king's home 
 coming the heir-at-law would be found." 
 
 " I think myself it was a great risk to take." 
 
 " But, counting all these risks, I got Sandys for a little 
 price, though 't was money enough for the unlikely 
 things driving my brother to strange lands. Then by
 
 444 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 using such friends as I had claim upon, I made haste to 
 certify my right ; and looking forward always to the 
 marriage of my niece with your son, I have kept the 
 place in such order as its worth asked for." 
 
 " Indeed, such order as constantly raised the wonder of 
 all." 
 
 " So you see " and she spoke slowly, with her eyes 
 dropped, and a happy smile lighting her large, calm face 
 ' it is ready for its owners. For if Olivia married the 
 heir of Kelderby, Nathaniel Kelder married the mistress 
 of Sandys. A week ago I made it over, house and land, 
 silver and furnishings of every kind, to Olivia Kelder; 
 and may God bless the house forever ! " 
 
 " Mistress Mettelane, this is indeed great news," said 
 the baron, " and we cannot but take it well of you. 'T is 
 a noble home, indeed it is." 
 
 " And, as I thought, near to Kelder, and not far away 
 from Mettelane. In my home, also, there shall be rooms 
 made ready for the children's visit ; but I know right 
 surely that age dwells not happily with youth, and that 
 youth soon grows sad with age." 
 
 "Think you so? " 
 
 " In truth I do. Age is the chapel of life. When we 
 sit down in its quiet, the busy cares and pleasures of youth 
 come into it like an offence. I know it is well for all 
 that Nathaniel and Olivia should have their own home. 
 I hope that it may be Sandys." 
 
 "They could have no fairer or finer one," said Lady 
 Kelder, softly. Her eyes were full of tears, and she drew 
 her chair nearer to Hannah's and took her large, capable 
 hand within the clasp of her own small ones. A kind in 
 telligence that needed no speech passed from face to 
 face. From that moment they were true friends. 
 
 " The silver and linen, the crystal and the fine pewter
 
 KELDERBY AND SAA'DYS. 445 
 
 service, with the curious ornaments I have had at Mette- 
 lane, they left Ambleside in Stephen Airey's wagon, 
 and must now be at Sandys. If you, my lady, will go 
 over there with me, we can see to their unpicking and 
 safe bestowal. I should n't wonder if all the old servants 
 are already there. The women have worked on D 'Acre's 
 land, one way or another, since Sandys shut ; and I called 
 on Jane D 'Acre as I passed, and she was crying happy 
 at my news, and D 'Acre said Olivia's old women should 
 all be loosed from his claim and go back to Sandys. The 
 D 'Acres will be good friends, I trow." 
 
 " If they get not cool or hot on their religion," said 
 Lady Kelder, scornfully. " As for me, I think D' Acre a 
 fair-weather friend." 
 
 " I heard that he stood not trial. But, dear me ! we 
 must n't ask friends to think as we do. T is too much, 
 and beyond all. If souls were all made on one pattern, 
 then possible, perhaps ; but, God knows, souls differ as 
 much as faces, not two alike. What then, Baron ? " 
 
 " Charity, Mistress Mettelane. If we could only love 
 each other half as well as God loves us all." 
 
 " Not being God, we could n't do it, Baron," said Lady 
 Kelder ; " and God knows that there are some people God 
 himself could n't love, no, not even for Christ's sake. 
 Let us not talk of them. Tis better to go to bed 
 and sleep on the good fortune Mistress Mettelane has 
 brought us ; for, if she will, we shall take the road for 
 Sandys very early in the morning." 
 
 Her face shone with pleasure and kindness as she rose, 
 and in the noble, smiling inclination of her head to Han 
 nah Mettelane she expressed a grateful happiness that 
 delighted the simple, truthful woman. And that night 
 Lady Kelder was conscious of a gratitude that humbled 
 and silenced her. Had she not been grudging Olivia a
 
 446 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 few rooms in Kelderby, and lo ! the stately home of 
 Sandys was waiting for her? Had she not been fretting 
 at the introduction of a new element into her life, when 
 too old to desire it, and there had never been any foun- 
 i dation for the fear except in her own heart? 
 
 " It was not necessary to God's goodness," she said 
 sadly. "Wanting to bless Nathaniel and Olivia, he has 
 done it without my help." Tears filled her eyes and she 
 murmured, " I tried hard, indeed I did ! If God had 
 only understood " The Baron entered at the moment, 
 and she voiced her heartache to him. 
 
 " Indeed, dear heart, I think God did understand. 
 He saw you wished to be unselfish, and he said, ' It is 
 enough. That will do.' Think you he did not under 
 stand how precious the quiet of Kelderby was to both of 
 us? Joan, our God is such a one as cares for our little 
 likings, and is heedful of our daily happiness." 
 
 " How provoking kings are ! Charles might have seen 
 Nathaniel on the asking. Then he would have been 
 home ere this." 
 
 " Never hurry your happiness, Joan. And I think it 
 was not the king's fault, but Strickland's kindness. Doubt 
 less he thought of such an important matter as court 
 dresses, and in that respect sought time for the children." 
 
 The delay in London, however, had not been a profit 
 less or unpleasant one to Nathaniel and Olivia. During 
 it their friendship with the Stricklands had been placed 
 upon a lasting basis ; for each had discovered many 
 personal sympathies besides such as sprung from the 
 similarity of their domestic and social condition and their 
 identity of interests as future neighbours. 
 
 At length the evening appointed for their interview with 
 the king arrived, and they went together to Whitehall,
 
 KELDERBY AND SAKDYS. 447 
 
 making a sufficiently remarkable group both individually 
 and by way of contrast. Marmaduke Strickland, repre 
 senting one of the oldest families in England, and a pas 
 sionate royalist in sentiment, was arrayed in all the 
 splendor of the Stuart fashions ; but so lofty was his 
 stature and so imposing his manner, that he carrie 1 with 
 a certain fitness of courtly manhood the long, flowing 
 curls and flaunting finery of his order. His beautiful 
 young wife wore her bride-dress of gold brocade, and its 
 jewelled bodice and long train were but the suitable ac 
 companiments of the gems which glittered in her hair, 
 and lay on her bosom, and clasped her bare arms. 
 
 Behind so noticeable a couple Nathaniel and Olivia 
 were still more noticeable ; for Nathaniel's suit of 
 Genoa velvet and Genoa point was made with Puritan 
 simplicity, and Olivia's dress of soft white satin was with 
 out a single jewel. Its only ornament was the large col 
 lar of Brussels lace which covered her throat and her 
 bosom, and the cuffs of the same material, which were 
 turned back over the long satin sleeves almost to the 
 elbows. But the glistening of her garments, the radiant 
 serenity of her face, and her starry eyes, gave her a 
 singular charm. She appeared to shine where she stood. 
 And the easy grace and confidence of her manner were 
 a wonder even to her companions ; for none at that 
 moment reflected that the soul accustomed to contem 
 plate the solemnities of eternity is not to be affected 
 by the gilded show of what is constantly passing away. 
 Yet the scene through which she walked was to her a 
 very strange one, and as far apart from her sympathies 
 and intelligence as the east is from the west. 
 
 The large apartments were brilliantly lighted, and the 
 air was heavy with many pei fumes and the rich odours of 
 southern wines. Gayly dressed dissolute women and
 
 448 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 men were playing basset around a large table, with a ter 
 rible eagerness. Their sharp, strained voices and the 
 chink, chink of gold mingled with the notes of a French 
 boy singing love-songs, with laughter half subdued, with 
 the rustle of silken garments and the gurgle of flowing 
 liquors. 
 
 The king sat amid a bevy of handsome women, toying 
 with the loosened hair of one who held in her hand a gob 
 let of wine, everywhere around the god of this world 
 and the great lord of lusts ruling with prodigal wantonness. 
 
 But Charles knew how to assume in a moment the at 
 titude belonging to the king of a great people. He 
 stepped majestically forward and won Strickland's heart 
 anew by a greeting at once respectful and familiar, and 
 by the genuine glance of admiration which he bestowed 
 upon his bride. She knelt to kiss the hand he extended, 
 but Charles quickly raised her, and touching her cheek 
 said, " Kings are the servants of beauty." With the words 
 he took a ring from his finger and gave it to her. 
 
 Then Strickland introduced Nathaniel Kelder, saying, 
 " He brings to your Majesty a loyal service." 
 
 "A recovered loyalty is greatly prized by us," an 
 swered Charles. " Some of our subjects do not credit 
 us with much conscience, but we credit conscience to 
 our subjects, and know how to value it." Then, while 
 offering his hand to N .thaniel, he turned to Olivia. 
 
 She was regarding him with an almost childish inter 
 est, and he smiled frankly into her innocent face. It 
 seemed to have a great and yet not an offensive attrac 
 tion to him. He scarcely heard Nathaniel speaking ; he 
 was too earnestly trying to comprehend the pure, wo 
 manly countenance to heed words, until the name of 
 Prideaux was mentioned. Then he recollected what 
 Strickland had told him of De Burg and Kelder and
 
 KELDERBY AA'D SAA'Dys. 449 
 
 the Quaker Prideaux, and he understood the holy eyes, 
 and the face upon which the dove visibly brooded, and 
 the ravishing simplicity of manner and dress. His glance 
 went from- Olivia to Nathaniel, and he regarded both 
 with great favour. 
 
 " I think, Mistress Kelder, that the king has in you 
 a loyal subject." 
 
 "Yea; for thou hast been kind to many suffering 
 wrongfully. In the day when all need mercy, may God 
 give thee mercy." 
 
 " Be it so." 
 
 " I offer thee neither lip service nor knee worship, 
 but my heart hath none the less truth and honour." Then 
 perceiving him about to unfasten a jewelled clasp of 
 great value, she said, modestly, 
 
 " Give me the rose thou wearest, and I will keep it 
 for a token of thy kindness to me and to my people." 
 
 Instantly Charles understood her. He had been on 
 the point of making her a much richer present than the 
 one given to the wife of his faithful adherent, a present 
 also which her principles forbade her to wear. But that 
 wisdom which springs from an uaselfish heart had pre 
 vented a gift likely to bring unkindness and embarrass 
 ment, anl it was with a sentiment of grateful admiration 
 that he took the rose from his jewelled vest and gave it 
 to her. 
 
 An act of such evident favour at once attracted atten 
 tion. Indeed, it was impossible, in that company, for 
 Olivia to escape a critical regard. The gift of the rose 
 was to many who un lerstood none of its motives, a gift 
 suggestive of the evil in their hearts. "The king is 
 freshly smitten ; ' t is a love gift," was the universal 
 comment. 
 
 Ons woman, however, was not so deceived. She saw 
 29
 
 450 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 in it the expression of a respect which Charles believed 
 very few men or women deserved. It was Mistress 
 Chenage. She was with the players at the basset table ; 
 and though a bank of at least two thousand pounds in 
 gold lay before her, she was thinking only of the king's 
 rose. 
 
 At first when she saw Nathaniel and Olivia, with the 
 Stricklands, enter the royal presence, she had wisely 
 determined to be indifferent to them. But the exclama 
 tions about Olivia's beauty, her angelic face, her charm 
 ing simplicity, had been gradually growing more frequent 
 and emphatic, and more difficult for her to endure. The 
 gift of the rose, attended by a general murmur of pleasure 
 and admiration, roused her to that pitch of jealous envy 
 which demands the relief of offensive speech. 
 
 As the Kelders retired from the audience she was con 
 scious of their every footstep. The closer to her they 
 came the more imperative and insolent her temper grew. 
 She turned with the cards fan-shaped in her hand, and 
 watched with her old mockery the approach of the party. 
 Her beautiful face was flushed with wine and anger ; her 
 dark hair, combed back from her forehead, fell in heavy 
 curls over her shoulders, and mingled with the pearls 
 that clasped her slender throat and the lace which af 
 fected to cover her bosom. A dress of pink brocade 
 and silver threads clung to her form with seductive grace ; 
 and she flung its heavy folds aside to display her little 
 feet, shod in pink and silver shoes, as she rose from the 
 table and stood directly in the way of the retiring visitors. 
 Strickland was first. She made him a sweeping courtesy 
 and suffered him and his bride to pass ; then, in a chal 
 lenging voice, she said, 
 
 " Cousin Nathaniel, be not in such a hurry to hide 
 your Quaker wife. Come here, Saint Olivia. If you
 
 KELDERBY AA'D SAA'DYS. 451 
 
 kiss me, I vow to show you how to cheat the Devil at a 
 game of basset." 
 
 "If thou playest with the Devil in any wise thou wilt 
 lose thy soul. And what gain will profit thee for that 
 loss? " Nathaniel could feel his wife's inward tremor as 
 she spoke, but outwardly she was calm as a lily motion 
 less in the moonlight ; and with a stern courtesy he said, 
 " We are in the king's presence, Cousin Chenage. You 
 shall show your anger to me at a more fitting time." 
 
 " How wise are we grown ! How strangely loyal ! 
 How beyond all comparison excellent ! Here, boy, 
 I will give you a song for this great and grand 
 monseigneur, 
 
 " Que son mints est extreme ! 
 Que de grices ! Que de grandeur 1 
 Ah ! combien monseigneur 
 Doit etre content de lui-mSme." 
 
 This little episode had not occupied more time than 
 the ordinary salutation of friends would have done, but 
 it had made a much more pronounced impression. The 
 hurry of the beautiful Mistress Chenage, her rapid 
 speech, the excitement which made her forget the cards 
 in her hands and led her to intercept the king's special 
 visitors, gave to the interruption a marked character. A 
 swift intelligence of its spirit passed through the great 
 hall ; the players held their next throw in suspense, the 
 singing boy was humming at Anastasia's elbow, " Que de 
 graces ! Que de grandeur ! " and the woman who was 
 leaning against the king's shoulder said, 
 
 " Sire, Chenage hath a temper again. A bride or a 
 beauty is a red flag to her." 
 
 Charles laughed with scornful good nature. " On my 
 honour ! 't was a red rose that bred the present tern-
 
 452 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 per ; " and the king's wit raised the laugh which Anas- 
 tasia felt she paid for. 
 
 Her game was every way lost. While she was turning 
 Nathaniel's virtues into a ridiculous rhyme, he had passed 
 quietly out of her presence. Her anger had missed its 
 mark, and she was equally unsuccessful in her play. She 
 lost heavily, she provoked the temper of her companions, 
 she had evidently offended her genius by taking revenge 
 into her own hands. Never had she felt so utterly 
 foiled ani humiliated. 
 
 She went to her lodgings in a fever. "The king 
 openly forsoothed me," she cried passionately, as she 
 tore off her robe of pink damask and the pearls from her 
 neck and wrists. She looked at her long white arms, 
 they were exquisitely formed ; she looked at her white 
 throat and bosom, no woman in the presence was lovelier 
 than herself. But the king had "forsoothed" her; 
 treated even her passion as matter for laughter. She 
 held her fair face between her hands and muttered : 
 
 " Alack-a-day ! I am but a wretched woman. Every 
 thing in life deceives me. Every plan I make fails. My 
 lovers adore and then leave me. My father has so small a 
 sense of what I have done for him that I have the heart 
 ache for it. Failure is writ all over my life. I wish I 
 had been born good, for the Devil is a cheat of all 
 cheats. I have been mortified beyond all endurance. I 
 have lost more money than even John will like, and my 
 poor head is in a sad .taking with the wine. Nathaniel 
 Kelder kissing the king's hand ! Saint Olivia with the 
 king's rose at her breast ! Lord, if I swear a little, write 
 me innocent, having such good cause. But I shall tell 
 John to-morrow, and he will curse them all for me ! " 
 
 For she had not come to London without John. He 
 had a lodging at Greenwich by the seaside, and there he
 
 KELDEKBY AA'D SAA'DYS. 453 
 
 sat in the sunshine and heard the cries of the sailors and 
 the voice of the ocean once more. " I shall tell John 
 to-morrow. He will find out a way. Lord, how my 
 head aches ! " Then she bent herself toward a half- 
 open drawer, and took from it a soiled pack of cards. 
 She shuffled them to and fro a few times, and then, with 
 a slow and vicious hatred, tore them, one by one, to 
 pieces. " You, too, are prophesying liars. A plain un 
 doing you have been to me. What devil is behind you ? " 
 So she sat musing until sleep mastered her, and, only 
 half undressed, she threw herself upon the bed. 
 
 But in the sinful and tragic events of the last four years 
 she had lost the aptitude for that deep, animal-like sleep 
 which had once made her so cruelly riant in her perfect 
 health and perfect spirits. She could not escape the cha 
 grin of her position. The phantasmagoria of the White 
 hall, with its gamblers and drinkers, its clinking of gold, 
 and its murmur of song that no one listened to, troubled 
 her consciousness, and made her frequently start with 
 that cry of mortification and that catch in is expression 
 which denotes the extremity of painful vexation. Her 
 lovely flushed face amid the scattered hair of sleep, her 
 white arms flung upward, her white bosom troubled with 
 her restless breathing, showed that her soul, left without 
 excuses, was wandering in those halls of remorseful 
 memory in which the wisest of all sacred seers saw the 
 sleeping wicked vexed. 
 
 The unhappy incident did not much disturb either the 
 Stricklands or the Kelders. They went from the palace 
 to Strickland's lodging and talked about it a little, and so 
 rubbed the slight annoyance away. For both felt that 
 they had received that favour which kings give to men 
 whom they delight to honour, and from Nathaniel's heart 
 there had dropped, even at the king's feet, that heavy
 
 454 FRIEND OLIVIA. 
 
 load of apprehension concerning his estate which he had 
 so long carried. 
 
 It was past midnight when Nathaniel and Olivia 
 reached their own inn. There was a large letter on the 
 table, and Nathaniel saw at a glance that the direction 
 was in his mother's writing. He lifted it with a slight fear 
 of annoyance, but the first words dispelled his anxiety. 
 
 FOR MY BELOVED CHILDREN, NATHANIEL AND OLIVIA 
 KELDER THESE : 
 
 DEAR ONES, If you will be pleased to know that I 
 wish you with me, 't is a satisfaction you may perpetually 
 have. There is great and good news, and I am so little sel 
 fish that I will not keep it for my own delivery, but at once 
 add it to the joy of your bridal. Mistress Mettelane came 
 here two days ago at my own invitation, and never was I 
 more pleased with myself for a kindness; for truly she hath 
 astonished us all with her excellence and her generosity. I 
 had indeed made such preparation for your comfort in Kel- 
 derby as our means and the house permitted ; but she has far 
 outdone all, having brought with her the vellums securing 
 to you and yours the house and estate of Sandys. And, to 
 be plain-hearted with you, I went there this day, and with 
 Mistress Mettelane put into place all the silver and linen and 
 ornaments which had been taken away for safe keeping, but 
 brought back with such good intent as I cannot but honour 
 and join in. Jane D'Acre was also there, busying herself 
 about filling the posy bowls with holly and wood-berries and 
 house roses, and hanging the pots of sweet musk, which she 
 saith Olivia dearly lovetli. So then, if God is willing, you 
 are coming to as fine a home as any in England. But both 
 houses are ready to entertain you ; and if you come first to 
 Kelderby, we shall take the daylight with us some bright 
 morning, and father and mother and aunt and neighbours put 
 you safe inside the portals of Seat Sandys. And, as Mistress 
 Mettelane said, may God make your home there until your 
 father and I have seen the twentieth Odinel Kelder of full 
 age and worthy of his name. As you know, I am but a poor
 
 KELDERBY AND SANDYS, 455 
 
 scribe, and I write now in such haste and excitement as 
 cannot satisfy myself, nor express my thoughts as I mean 
 them ; and if I did, I should have more to say to you than 
 this paper would hold. Dears, shall we not be very happy? 
 Indeed, I think the promise of it infinitely above what 1 can 
 deserve, and more than God Almighty usually allots to the 
 very best of people. Pray have a care of your healths. I 
 would fain say more, and yet it would only be saying with 
 more circumstance that I rest to each of you a loving 
 mother. 
 
 JOAN KELDER. 
 
 They read this letter together twice over ; and smiles, 
 and little laughs, and sweet asides, and sweeter kisses in 
 terpreted it. And then Nathaniel drew his wife close to 
 his side. For a few moments they made a still picture 
 of wondrous beauty, Nathaniel's stately figure in the 
 sombre richness of his velvet habit, Olivia's slender form 
 in the pearly splendour of her white satin robe ; the mas 
 culine beauty of one bending face luminous with love, 
 the feminine beauty of the other lifted face, transfigured, 
 speechless, yet saying things unutterable, the spiritual 
 woman making sweet the mortal woman. 
 
 Nathaniel kissed the words upon her lips, and then, 
 with a sigh of deep content, said softly, " Many blessings 
 are ours, dear heart, and many others are sought for us ; 
 but tell me, in thy judgment, which is best of all? " And 
 she laid her cheek against his, and put her arms around 
 his neck, and whispered between her kisses, " Beloved ! 
 that we may receive the great grace of our bridal prayer, 
 'Mercifully ordain that we may grow old together.' " 
 
 THE END.
 
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