“A peddler?” I said. “Why does he come to the stables?”
“He was on his way to the house and so weary that I said he should rest here awhile before taking his wares to the house.”
There was something dignified about Richard, interesting too. Moreover, the advent of a peddler was always exciting, more particularly here than at the Abbey. There we were not far from London and could take barge to the Chepe and buy from the mercers and lacemakers and merchants.
The peddler had come forward and bowed to me.
“His name is John, Mistress,” said Richard. “He craves your indulgence.”
The man bowed again.
“Can he not speak for himself?”
“I can, Mistress,” said John; and his voice reminded me of Richard’s.
“You have traveled far?”
“From the North,” he said.
“You should have gone to the kitchens. There they would have fed you. There was no need for the maid to steal food and bring it here.”
“’Tis not the fault of the maid,” said Richard gently. “’Twas I who sent her for food. Peddler John was footsore and sank into the straw to rest awhile.”
“Well, he can eat to his fill. And, Jennet, you may go and bring some ale for him to drink. He can come to the washhouse then, and there spread out his wares for us to see. Jennet, you may take him to the washhouse when he has eaten and I will tell Mistress Ennis that we have a peddler who wishes to show his wares.”
I found Honey and when I told her what had happened she was as eager as I to see what the peddler had brought. He spread out his pack. In it he had silks to make kerchiefs; he had trinkets and little boxes and combs. I saw a magnificent comb, to be placed in the hair and to stand so tall that it added three inches to the height.
I pounced on it and stuck it in my hair. Honey declared it was becoming.
I left her brooding over the peddler because I wanted to try the comb; and I thought of myself wearing it at the betrothal ceremony, which but a short while ago I was planning to escape.
I dressed myself in a russet velvet gown and I placed the comb in my hair and I liked it. I wanted to show it to Honey and was about to go to her, when it occurred to me that she might still be considering what the peddler had in his pack. I glanced out of the window and at that moment saw her with the peddler. He had rolled up his pack and they were talking earnestly. Then I saw her take him across the courtyard, through the door and into the house, not toward the kitchens but to that part where she and Edward had their apartments.
That was strange. When peddlers came they were not invited to that section of the house. They showed their wares and were refreshed and allowed to rest, while their mule or mules were fed and watered in the stables; after they had shown their goods to the mistress of the house they did the same for the servants. It was an occasion when the peddler called and an excitement to us all; but they were not entertained in the owner’s apartments.
I could only imagine that she had found something in his pack which she thought might please Edward, and was filled with curiosity to know what.
I went into the punch room, which I supposed was the most likely place to find them.
They were not there. I drew aside the curtain and mounted the stone stairs to the solarium. This was a large room with a curtain placed halfway which could be pulled to divide it. The curtains were pulled and I went through to the second room. There was no one there. Then I heard their voices and guessed where they were. At the end of the solarium was a door which opened into a small chamber and inside this chamber high in the wall was a peep—a star-shaped hole which was scarcely perceptible. Through this one could look down to the hall to see who was arriving.
The door of this chamber was now shut and as I walked toward it I heard the sound of voices.
They must be there.
“Honey,” I called. “Are you there?”
There was a short silence. Then Honey’s voice said: “Yes, yes, Catharine. We … we’re here.”
I opened the door. Edward and Honey were seated at a table and the peddler sat with them.
Honey said: “We were just about to look at the pack. I wanted Edward to see something.”
I said I would like to have another look at them. I bought some cambric to make a petticoat and Honey bought some needles and thread.
There was nothing of interest to Edward and I wondered why Honey had brought the peddler into the house.
Edward appeared to be rather tense and there was a pulse beating in his temple which I hadn’t noticed before.
Three nights after the day the peddler came I saw the galleon again. The Pennlyons were still away, but I expected them to be back at any time. I awoke as I had on that other occasion. It was three o’clock in the morning. I wondered what had awakened me. There was something going on. In my sleep I had been aware of unaccustomed sounds—or had I been half awake? The great harvest moon—almost full—shone into the room; I rose and went to the window: and there was the galleon in all its glory, its four masts clearly visible—the tallest and most majestic ship I had ever seen.
The Rampant Lion, dwarfed beside it, made me laugh. I wished that he could be here at this moment. How I should like him to see that other ship! But the idea of wishing that he could be with me for any reason whatsoever was so contrary to my wishes that I must laugh at myself.
Then I saw the boat on the moonlit waters; it was clearly making for the shore. I knew then that it contained someone from the galleon.
I could hear Jake Pennlyon’s voice: “By God’s Death, it would seem that you are describing a Spanish galleon.”
He hadn’t believed I had in fact seen what I claimed to. He had pooh-poohed the idea of a Spanish galleon daring to enter the harbor.
As I watched, the rowing boat disappeared as it had on that other night. I did not return to bed. I sat watching.
Half an hour passed. The galleon was still there. Then I heard movements below. I looked down and saw a light in the courtyard. Instinct told me that the movement below was in some way connected with the galleon. Something was happening and my curiosity needed to be satisfied. I wrapped a robe about me and putting on slippers, I descended the staircase and went down to the courtyard.
As the cool night airs enveloped me I heard voices—quietly whispering. I saw the lantern and there was Edward and with him a stranger. I slipped back into the house, my heart beating fast. I ran swiftly to the solarium chamber and looked down through the peep. Edward had come into the hall and with him was the stranger. I could see them only vaguely in the dim light. They were talking earnestly; then Edward led the stranger up the stairs to the punch room and I could see them no more.
I was bewildered, but I was sure that someone had come from the Spanish galleon to see Edward.
I went to my room. The galleon had started to move. I stood there watching as she slipped below the horizon.
I was possessed by a sudden fear. Edward, who seemed so gentle, was involved in some intrigue. That much was obvious. Where would it all lead us? So far his association with the visiting priest had brought me to a situation which was distasteful and would have been alarming if it had not been so ridiculous. At the same time it was not going to be easy to extricate myself from the Pennlyon web.
I went back to bed. Sleep was impossible. I had a glimmering of what this night’s visitation meant.
No, I told myself. Edward would not be such a fool. He is too gentle, too much a dreamer. But it was precisely men such as he who placed themselves in dangerous situations.
I spoke to Honey next morning.
“What happened last night?” I demanded.
She turned first red and then quite pale so I was aware that she knew something.