"You are still a maimed man, sir. To be foiled would be worse than to let it pass."
"There, fellow, I'll spare you, so you ask pardon of me and the lady."
Perhaps they thought they had gone too far, for there was a sulky growl that might pass for an apology, and Ridley's counsel was decided that Pierce had better not pursue the matter.
What had been said, however, alarmed him, and set him on the watch, and the next evening, when Hardcastle was walking along the cliffs beyond the castle, the lad who acted as his page came to him, with round, wondering eyes, "Sir," said he, after a little hesitation, "is it sooth that the lady spake a spell over your arm?"
"Not to my knowledge," said Pierce smiling.
"It might be without your knowledge," said the boy. "They say it healed as no chirurgeon could have healed it, and by magic arts."
"Ha! the lubbard oafs. You know better than to believe them, Dick."
"Nay, sir, but 'tis her bower-woman and Madge, the cook's wife. Both aver that the lady hath bewitched whoever comes in her way ever since she crossed the door. She hath wrought strange things with her father, mother, and brothers. They say she bound them to her; that the little one could not brook to have her out of sight; yet she worked on him so that he was crooked and shrivelled. Yet he wept and cried to have her ever with him, while he peaked and pined and dwindled away. And her mother, who was once a fine, stately, masterful dame, pined to mere skin and bone, and lay in lethargy; and now she is winding her charms on you, sir!"
Pierce made an exclamation of loathing and contempt. Dick lowered his voice to a whisper of awe.
"Nay, sir, but Le Tordu and Ned of the Bludgeon purpose to ride over to Shields to the wise, and they will deal with her when he has found the witch's mark."
"The lady!" cried Hardcastle in horror. "You see her what she is! A holy woman if ever there was one! At mass each morning."
"Ay, but the wench Thora told Ralph that 'tis prayers backward she says there. Thora has oft heard her at night, and 'twas no Ave nor Credo as they say them here."
Pierce burst out laughing. "I should think not. They speak gibberish, and she, for I have heard her in Church, speaks words with a meaning, as her priest and nuns taught her."
"But her face, sir. There's the Evil One's mark. One side says nay to the other."
"The Evil One! Nay, Dick, he is none other than Sir Leonard himself. 'Twas he that all unwittingly, when a boy, fired a barrel of powder close to her and marred her countenance. You are not fool and ass enough to give credence to these tales."
"I said not that I did, sir," replied the page; "but it is what the men-at-arms swear to, having drawn it from the serving-maid."
"The adder," muttered Pierce.
"Moreover," continued the boy, "they have found out that there is a wise man witch-finder at Shields. They mean to be revenged for the scanty fare and mean providings; and they deem it will be a merry jest in this weary hold, and that Sir Leonard will be too glad to be quit of his gruesome dame to call them to account."
It was fearful news, for Pierce well knew his own incompetence to restrain these strong and violent men. He did not know where his knight was to be found, and, if he had known, it was only too likely that these terrible intentions might be carried out before any messenger could reach him. Indeed, the belief in sorcery was universal, and no rank was exempt from the danger of the accusation. Thora's treachery was specially perilous. All that the young man could do was to seek counsel with Cuthbert Ridley, and even this he was obliged to do in the stable, bidding Dick keep watch outside. Ridley too had heard a spiteful whisper or two, but it had seemed too preposterous for him to attend to it. "You are young, Hardcastle," he said, with a smile, "or you would know that there is nothing a grumbler will not say, nor how far men's tongues lie from their hands."
"Nay, but if their hands did begin to act, how should we save the lady? There's nothing Tordu would not do. Could we get her away to some nunnery?"
"There is no nunnery nearer at hand than Gateshead, and there the Prioress is a Musgrove, no friend to my lord. She might give her up, on such a charge, for holy Church is no guardian in them. My poor bairn! That ingrate Thora too! I would fain wring her neck! Yet here are our fisher folk, who love her for her bounty."
"Would they hide her?" asked Pierce.
"That serving-wench-would I had drowned her ere bringing her here- might turn them, and, were she tracked, I ken not who might not be scared or tortured into giving her up!"
Here Dick looked in. "Tordu is crossing the yard," he said.
They both became immediately absorbed in studying the condition of Featherstone's horse, which had never wholly recovered the flight from Wakefield.
After a time Ridley was able to steal away, and visit Grisell in her apartment. She came to meet him, and he read alarm, incredulous alarm, in her face. She put her hands in his. "Is it sooth?" she said, in a strange, awe-stricken voice.
"You have heard, then, my wench?"
"Thora speaks in a strange tone, as though evil were brewing against me. But you, and Master Hardcastle, and Sir Lucas, and the rest would never let them touch me?"
"They should only do so through my heart's blood, dear child; but mine would be soon shed, and Hardcastle is a weakly lad, whom those fellows believe to be bewitched. We must find some other way!"
"Sir Leonard would save me if he knew. Alas! the good Earl of Salisbury is dead."
"'Tis true. If we could hide you till we be rid of these men. But where?" and he made a despairing gesture.
Grisell stood stunned and dazed as the horrible prospect rose before her of being seized by these lawless men, tortured by the savage hands of the witch-finder, subjected to a cruel death, by fire, or at best by water. She pressed her hands together, feeling utterly desolate, and prayed her prayer to the God of the fatherless to save her or brace her to endure.
Presently Cuthbert exclaimed, "Would Master Groats, the Poticary, shelter you till this is over-past? His wife is deaf and must perforce keep counsel."
"He would! I verily believe he would," exclaimed Grisell; "and no suspicion would light on him. How soon can I go to him, and how?"
"If it may be, this very night," said Ridley. "I missed two of the rogues, and who knows whither they may have gone?"
"Will there be time?" said the poor girl, looking round in terror.
"Certes. The nearest witch-finder is at Shields, and they cannot get there and back under two days. Have you jewels, lady? And hark you, trust not to Thora. She is the worst traitor of all. Ask me no more, but be ready to come down when you hear a whistle."
That Thora could be a traitress and turn against her-the girl whom she had taught, trained, and civilised-was too much to believe. She would almost, in spite of cautions, have asked her if it were possible, and tried to explain the true character of the services that were so cruelly misinterpreted; but as she descended the dark winding stair to supper, she heard the following colloquy:
"You will not deal hardly with her, good Ralph, dear Ralph?"
"That thou shalt see, maid! On thy life, not a word to her."
"Nay, but she is a white witch! she does no evil."
"What! Going back on what thou saidst of her brother and her mother. Take thou heed, or they will take order with thee."
"Thou wilt take care of me, good Ralph. Oh! I have done it for thee."
"Never fear, little one; only shut thy pretty little mouth;" and there was a sound of kissing.
"What will they do to her?" in a lower voice.
"Thou wilt see! Sink or swim thou knowst. Ha! ha! She will have enough of the draught that is so free to us."
Grisell, trembling and horror-stricken, could only lean against the wall hoping that her beating heart did not sound loud enough to betray her, till a call from the hall put an end to the terrible whispers.