 CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Jocelyn was brought to the fleet? After his arrest by the sergeant at arms, Sir Jocelyn was taken, in the first instance, to the star chamber, where some of the lords of the council were sitting at the time, and examined respecting the libelous language and false scandal he had used in reference to the proceedings of that high and honorable court, the young knight did not attempt to deny the truth of the charge brought against him. Neither did he express contrition or sue for forgiveness, but though he demanded to be confronted with his accusers, the request was refused him, and he was told they would appear in due time. Several interrogatories were then addressed to him, which he answered in a manner calculated in the judgment of his hearers to aggravate the original offense. After this, he was required to subscribe the minutes of his confession, as it was styled, and a warrant for his committal to the fleet prison and close confinement within it was made out, consigned once more to the custody of the sergeant at arms. He was placed on board a barge of ill-ohmened appearance being covered with black cloth, like a Venetian gondola, and kept for offenders against the star chamber. In this he was rode down the Thames and up the fleet to the entrance of the prison, the progress of the well-known Sable barge up the narrow river having been noted by the passengers along its banks as well as by those crossing fleet bridge. Some curiosity was felt to ascertain whom it contained and a crowd collected in front of the prison gate to witness the disembarkation. When the young knight's title and the nature of his offense, which latter did not appear so enormous in their eyes as in those of the lords of the council, became known to the bystanders, much sympathy was expressed for him, and it might have found a manifestation in more than words but for the guard, who kept back the throng. At this juncture, Sir Jocelyn heard his own name pronounced in familiar tones, and looking round for the speaker, perceived a person placed in a tub close beside him. The individual who occupied this singular and degrading position was the ill-starred Dick Tavernor, who it appeared, had made an attempt to escape from prison on the third day after he had been brought thither, and was punished according to the custom of the place by being bound hand and foot, set within a tub, and exposed to public gaze and derision. Alas, Sir Jocelyn, ejaculated the apprentice, but for you I should not have been here. I undertook a thankless office, and have been rightly served for my folly. We have both found our way to the fleet, but I much doubt if either of us will find his way out of it. Because for me I liked the appearance of the place, and the society it seems to furnish so little that I resolved to make a clearance of it at once, and accordingly I managed to scramble up yonder lofty wall in the hope of effecting my deliverance without asking for a license to go abroad from the warden. But unfortunately, in dropping down from so great a height, I sprained my ankle and fell again into the hands of the Philistines, and here I am, like the cynic philosopher in his tub. Sir Jocelyn would have addressed a few words of consolation to the poor fellow, but at this moment the wicket was opened, and he was pushed through it by the attendants of the sergeant at arms, who were apprehensive of the crowd. The small aperture that had given him admittance to the prison was instantly closed, and all chance of rescue cut off. The prisoner, being thus effectually secured, the officials felt more easy, and smiling at each other, they proceeded deliberately to the porter's lodge at the entrance of which stood a huge, powerfully built, ill-favored man evidently chosen for the post of porter from his personal strength and the savageness of his disposition. With a growl like that of a mastiff to the black, broad muzzle of which animal his own features bore a remarkable resemblance, the porter greeted the newcomers and ushered them into an apartment built of stone, octagonal in shape, with a vaulted roof, narrow windows like loopholes, and a great stone fireplace. Its walls, which resembled those of an ancient guard room, were appropriately enough garnished with fetters, mixed up with which, as if to inspire greater terror among the beholders, and executioner's heavy whip, with many knotted thongs, several knives with strange blades, the purpose of which was obvious enough, and branding irons. As Sir Jocelyn was brought into the lodge by his guards, an elderly man with a bald head and gray beard and mustaches, and possessing, in spite of his years, a most repulsive physiognomy advanced to meet him. His doublet and hose were of Murray color, and his inflamed visage, bloodshot eyes, fiery nose, and blotchy forehead were in keeping with the hue of his apparel. This was Joaquim Tunstall, deputy warden of the fleet. Behind him were some half-dozen jailers attired in garments of dark brown frieze, and each having a large bunch of keys at his girdle, all of them were stout, hard-featured men, and bore upon their countenances the stamp of their vocation. The warrant for Sir Jocelyn's committal to the fleet was delivered by the sergeant at arms to the deputy warden, and the latter, having duly perused it, was conferring with one of the jailers as to where the prisoner should be conducted, when a side-door was suddenly opened, and Sir Giles' mom-pesson, issuing from it, tapped the deputy warden on the shoulder. You need not consider where the prisoner is to be lodged, Master Tunstall, he said, looking fixedly at Mountain Sea all the while. The dungeon he is to occupy is the darkest, the deepest, and the dampest in the fleet. It is that in which his father died. You know it well, Grimbald, he added, to one of the burliest of the jailers. Take him thither at once, and I will go with you to see him safely bestowed. Pass on, Sir, he continued, with a smile of fiendish satisfaction, as Mountain Sea was led forth by the jailer. CHAPTER XXXIV OF THE STAR CHAMBER AND HISTORICAL ROMANTZ, VOLUME II CHAPTER XXIV THE ABDUCTION Knight had come on, and Aveline was anxiously expecting the arrival of her lover, when a loud knocking was heard at the door of the cottage, and before the summons could be answered by Anthony Rock, two persons entered, and pushing past the old serving man, who demanded their business, and vainly endeavored to oppose their progress, forced their way into the presence of his mistress. Dame Sherbourne was in an inner room, but alarmed by the noise, she flew to the aid of her charge, and reached her at the same moment with the intruders. Her lamp threw its light full upon their countenances, and when she found who they were, she screamed, and nearly let it fall, appearing to stand much more in need of support than Aveline herself. The foremost of the two was Sir Giles Mompesson, and his usually stern and sinister features had acquired a yet more inauspicious cast from the death-like paleness that bespread them, as well as from the fillet bound round his injured brow. The other was an antiquated coxcomb, aping the airs and graces of a youthful gallant, attired in silks and velvets, fashioned in the newest French mode, and exhaling a mingled perfume of civet, musk, and ambergris. And in him Aveline recognized the amorous old daughter who had stared at her so offensively during the visit she had been forced to make to the extortioner. Sir Francis's deportment was not a wit less impertinent or objectionable now than here to fore, after making a profound salutation to Aveline, which he thought was executed in the most courtly style, and with consummate grace he observed in a loud whisper to his partner, for heaven a matchless creature, a divinity, introduce me in due form, Sir Giles. Suffer me to make known to you, Sir Francis Mitchell, fair mistress, said Mompesson. He is so ravished by your charms that he can neither eat, drink, nor sleep, and he professes to me, his friend and partner, that he must die outright unless you take pity on him. Is it not so, Sir Francis? Nay, plead your own cause, man, you will do it better than I, who am little accustomed to tune my voice to the ear of beauty. During this speech, the old usurer conducted himself in a manner that, under other circumstances, must have moved Aveline's mirth, but it now only excited her disgust and indignation, sighing, groaning, placing his hand upon his heart, languishing, lee, regarding her, and turning up his eyes till the whites alone were visible. He ended by throwing himself at her feet, seizing her hand, and attempting to cover it with kisses. Dane, to listen to me, peerless and adorable damsel, he cried in the most impassioned accents he could command, though he wheezed terribly all the while, and was ever and and on interrupted by a fit of coughing. Incline your ear to me, I beseech you. Sir Giles has in no respect exaggerated my said condition. Ever since I beheld you, I have been able to do nothing else than dwell upon your surpassing attractions. Day and night, your lovely image has been constantly before me. You have driven sleep from my eyelids and rest from my frame. Your lustrous eyes have lighted up such a fire in my breast as can never be extinguished unless plague take this cough. I owe it to you, fair mistress of my heart, as well as my other torments. But as I was about to say, the raging flame you have kindled in my breast will utterly consume me unless here he was well nigh choked, and Sir Giles had to come to his assistance. What my worthy friend and partner would declare if his cough permitted him, fair mistress Evelyn, urged the extortioner, is that he places his life and fortune at your disposal. His desires are all centered in you, and it rests with you to make him the happiest or most miserable of mankind. Speak I, not your sentiments, Sir Francis, in every particular good Sir Giles, replied the other as soon as he could recover utterance, and now most adorable damsel. What say you in answer? You are too gentle, I am sure, to condemn your slave to endless tortures. Nay, motion me not to rise. I have that to say will disarm your frowns and turn them into smiles of approval and dissent. Oh, this accursed rheumatism! he muttered to himself, I shall never be able to get up unaided. I love you, incomparable creature, love you to distraction, and as your beauty has inflicted such desperate wounds upon my heart, so I am sure your gentleness will not fail to cure them. Devotion, like mine, must meet its reward. Your answer, divinest creature, and let it be favorable to my hopes, I conjure you. I have no other answer to give, replied Evelyn coldly and with an offended look, except such as any maiden, thus unwarrantably and unseasonably importuned, would make. Your addresses are utterly distasteful to me, and I pray you to desist them. If you have any real wish to oblige me, you will at once free me from your presence. Your hand, Sir Giles, your hand, cried the old usurer, raising himself to his feet with difficulty. So you are not to be moved by my sufferings, by my prayers, cruel and proud beauty, he continued, regarding her with a mortified and spiteful look. You are inflexible, eh? Utterly so, she replied. Anthony Rock, cried Dame Sherbourne, showed the gentleman to the door and bolted upon them. She added, in a lower tone. Not so fast, madame, not so fast, exclaimed Sir Francis, we will not trouble old Anthony just yet. Though his fair young mistress is indisposed to listen to the pleadings of love, it follows not she will be equally insensible to the controlling power of her father's delegated authority. Her hand must be mine, either freely or by compulsion. Let her know on what grounds, I claim it, Sir Giles. Your claim cannot be resisted, Sir Francis, rejoined the other, and if you had followed my counsel, you would not have condescended to play the abject warrior, but have adopted the manlier course and demanded her hand as your right. Nay, Sir Giles, you cannot wonder at me, knowing how infatuated I am by this rare and admirable creature. I was unwilling to assert my rights till all other means of obtaining her hand had failed, but now I have no alternative. Whence is your authority derived, inquired Evelyn, trembling as she put the question, from your dead father, said Sir Giles sternly. His last solemn injunctions to you were that you should wed the man to whom he had promised you, provided your hand were claimed by him within a year after his death. With equal solemnity you bound yourself to fulfill his wishes. The person to whom you were thus sacredly contracted is Sir Francis Mitchell, and now in your father's name and by your father's authority he demands fulfillment of the solemn pledge. Oh, this is wholly impossible. I will not believe it. Almost shrieked, Evelyn, throwing herself into Dame Sherbourne's arms. It is some wicked device to ensnare you. I am convinced, said the old lady, clasping her to her breast. But we defy them, as we do the Prince of Darkness and all his iniquities. Avoid thee, thou wicked old sinner, thou worse than the benighted heathen. Get hence, I say, Saphonus. She ejaculated to Sir Francis. I am well assured it is all a fabrication, said Anthony Rock. My master had too much consideration and tenderness for his daughter to promise her to a wretched old honks like this, with one foot in the grave already. Besides, I knew he held both him and Sir Giles Mompesson in utter abomination and contempt. The thing is, therefore, not only improbable, but altogether impossible. Hold thy peace, sirrah! cried Sir Francis, foaming with rage, or I will cut thy scurll tongue out of thy throat. Honks, indeed, as I am a true gentleman, if thou wert of my own degree, thou shouldst answer for the appropriate expression. What proof have you that my father entered into any such engagement with you, inquired Evelyn, turning to Sir Francis? Your bare assertion will scarcely satisfy me. Neither will it satisfy me, remarked Anthony. Let him produce his proofs. You are acquainted with your father's handwriting, I presume, Fair Maiden, rejoined Sir Francis, and it may be that your insolent and incredulous serving man is also acquainted with it. Look at this document and declare whether it be not, as I assert, traced in Hugh Calvally's characters. Look at it, I say, thou unbelieving hound, he added to Anthony, and contradict me, if thou canst. It is my master's writing, I am compelled to admit, replied the old serving man, with a groan. Are you prepared to render obedience to your father's behest, Maiden? demanded Sir Giles menacingly. Oh, give me counsel, what shall I say to them? cried Evelyn, appealing to Dame Sherbourne. Would that Sir Jocelyn were here? It is in vain to expect his coming, rejoined Sir Giles, with a bitter laugh. We have taken good care to keep him out of the way. There is no help, then, said Evelyn, despairingly. I must submit. We triumph, whispered Sir Giles to his partner. Talk not of submission, my dear young lady, implored Anthony Rock. Resist them to the last. I will shed my best blood in your defense. If my master did give them that paper, he must have been out of his senses, and you need not, therefore, regarded as other than the act of a madman. Peace shallow-pated fool, cried Sir Giles, and do you, fair mistress, attend to me, and you shall learn under what circumstances that contract was made, and how it becomes binding upon you. Deeply indebted to Sir Francis, your father had only one means of discharging his obligations. He did hesitate to avail himself of it. He promised you to his creditor and obtained his own release. Will you dishonor his memory by a refusal? Oh, if this tale be true, I have no escape from misery, exclaimed Evelyn, and it wears the semblance of probability. I take upon me to declare it to be false, cried Anthony Rock. Another such insolent speech shall cost thee thy life, Serah, cried Sir Giles fiercely. Read over the paper again, my dear young lady, said Dame Sherbourne. You may, perhaps, find something in it not yet discovered, which may help you to a better understanding of your father's wishes. I read it, read it, cried the old usurer, giving her the paper. You will perceive in what energetic terms your father enjoins compliance on your part with his commands, and what awful denunciations he attaches to your disobedience. Read it, I say, and fancy he is speaking to you from the grave in these terms. Take this man for thy husband, O my daughter, and take my blessing with him. Reject him, and my curse shall alight upon thy head. But Evelyn was too much engrossed to heed him. Suddenly her eye caught something she had not previously noticed, and she exclaimed, I have detected the stratagem. I knew this authority could never be committed to you. What mean you, fair mistress? cried Sir Francis, surprised and alarmed. My name may not appear upon the face of the document, but nevertheless I am the person referred to by it. The document itself disproves your assertion, cried Evelyn, with exultation. How so, demanded Sir Giles uneasily, why see you not, that he to whom my father, designed to give my hand, was named Osmond Mounchancy. Osmond Mounchancy exclaimed Sir Giles, starting, this is pure invention, cried Sir Francis. There is no such name on the paper, no name at all, in short, nor could there be any for reasons I will presently explain. Let your own eyes convince you, to the contrary, she rejoined, extending the paper to him, and revealing to his astounded gaze, and to that of his partner, who looked petrified with surprise, the name plainly written as she had described it. How came it there? cried Sir Giles, as soon as he could command himself. I cannot say, replied Sir Francis. I only know it was not there, when I, that is, when I received it, it must be Clement Lanier's handiwork, he added, in a whisper. I see not how that can be, replied the other, in a like, low tone. The alteration must have been made, since it has been in your possession, it could not have escaped my observation. Nor mine, cried Sir Francis. It is passing strange. Your infamous project is defeated, cried Evelyn. Let the rightful claimant appear, and it will be time enough to consider what I will do, but I can hold no further discourse with you, and command your instant departure. And think you, we mean to return empty-handed, Fair Mistress, said Sir Giles, resuming all his wanted audacity. Be not deceived. By fair means or fowl, you shall be the bride of Sir Francis Mitchell. I have sworn it, and I will keep my oath. As I am a true gentleman, it will infinitely distress me to resort to extremities. Fair Mistress, said the old usurer, and I still trust you will listen to reason. If I have put in practice a little harmless stratagem, what matters it? All is fair in love, and if you knew all, you would be aware that I have already paid so dearly for you that I cannot afford to lose you. Cost what it will, you must be mine. Never, exclaimed Evelyn, resolutely, you will soon alter your tone when you find how little power of refusal is left you. Fair Mistress, said Sir Giles, a litter is waiting for you without. Will it please you to enter it? Not unless by force, and you dare to offer me violence, she replied. I advise you not to put our forbearance to the test, said Sir Giles. I should be grieved to impose any restraint upon you, subjoined Sir Francis, and I trust you will not compel me to act against my inclinations. Let me lead you to the litter. As he advanced towards her, Evelyn drew quickly back, and Dame Sherboyne uttered a loud scream, but her cries brought no other help than could be afforded by old Anthony Rock, who, planting himself before his young mistress, menaced Sir Francis to retire. But this state of things was only of brief duration. It speedily appeared that the two extortioners had abundant assistance at hand to carry out their infamous design. A whistle was sounded by Sir Giles, and at the call the cottage door was burst open by some half-dozen of the myrmidons headed by Captain Blutter. Any resistance that the old serving man could offer was speedily overcome. Knocked down by a pike, he was gagged and pinioned and carried out of the house. The cries of Evelyn and the elderly Dame were stifled by scarves tied over their heads, and both being in a fainting condition from fright, they were born to the litter which was standing at the door, and being shut up within it were conveyed as quickly as might be to Sir Giles' Mompesson's mansion near the fleet. Thither also was old Anthony Rock taken, closely guarded, on the way by two of the myrmidons. This is a LibriVox recording. A LibriVox recordings are in the public domain, for more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Dion Giants, Sutleck City, Utah. The Star Chamber and Historical Romance, Volume 2, by William Harrison Ainsworth, Chapter 25, The Stone Coffin. A dreadful dungeon, the last and profoundest of the range of subterranean cells already described as built below the level of the river fleet, a relic, in fact, of the ancient prison which had escaped the fury of Watt Tyler and his followers when the rest of the structure was destroyed by them. Not in aptly was the dungeon styled The Stone Coffin. Those emured within it seldom lived long. A chill like that of death smote Sir Jocelyn as he halted before the door of this horrible place, preceded by Grimbald, the jailer, with a lamp in one hand and a bunch of large keys in the other, and closely followed by the deputy warden and Sir Giles Mompasson, our young knight, had traversed an underground corridor with cells on one side of it, and then descending a flight of stone steps, had reached a still lower pit in which the dismal receptacle was situated. Here he remained up to the ankles in mud and water, while Grimbald unlocked the ponderous door and, with a grin, revealed the interior of the cavernous recess. Nothing more dank and noisome could be imagined than the dungeon. Dripping stone walls, a truckle-bed with a moldy straw mattress rotting litter scattered about, a floor glistening and slippery with ooze, and a deep pool of water like that outside at the further end. These constituted the materials of the frightful picture presented to the gaze. No wonder Sir Jocelyn should recoil and refuse to enter the cell. You don't seem to like your lodging's worshipful sir, said Grimbald, still grinning, as he held up the lamp, but you will soon get used to the place and you will not lack company. Rats, I mean, they come from the fleet in swarms. Look, a score of them are marking off yonder, swimming to their holes, but they will come back again with some of their comrades when you are left alone and without a light. Unlike other vermin, the rats of the fleet are extraordinarily sociable, ho, ho. And chuckling at his own jest, Grimbald turned to Sir Giles Mompesson, who, with Joachim Tunstall, was standing at the summit of the steppes. As if unwilling to venture into the damp region below and observed, the worshipful gentleman does not like the appearance of his quarters, it seems, Sir Giles, but we cannot give him better. And though the cell might be somewhat more comfortable if it were drier and perhaps more wholesome, yet it is uncommonly quiet and double the size of any other in the fleet, I never could understand why it should be called the stone coffin, but so it is. Some prisoners have imagined they would get their death with cold from a single night passed within it, but that's a mistaken notion altogether. You have proved, to the contrary, in Sir Ferdinando Mountain Sea, father of the present prisoner, said Sir Giles, in a derisive tone. He occupied that cell for more than six months. Did he not, good Grimbald? You had charge of him and ought to know. One hundred and sixty days exactly, counting from the date of his arrival to the hour of his death, was Sir Ferdinando, an inmate of the stone coffin, said the jailer slowly and sententiously, and he appeared to enjoy his health quite as well as could be expected. At all events he did so at first. I do not think it was quite so damp in his days, but there couldn't be much difference. In any case, the worthy knight made no complaints, perhaps because he thought there would be no use in making him a worshipful sir, he added to Sir Jocelyn, in a tone of affected sympathy, which only made his mockery more offensive. Your father was a goodly man, of quite as noble a presence as yourself, though rather stouter and broader in the shoulders, when he first came here, but he was sadly broken down at the last, quite a skeleton you would hardly have known him. He lost the use of his limbs, if I remember right, Grimbald, remarked Sir Giles, willing to prolong the scene, which appeared to afford him infinite amusement. Entirely lost the use of him, replied the jailer, but what of that he didn't require to take exercise. A friend was permitted to visit him, and that was more grace than the council usually allows to such offenders. It was far more than an offender like Sir Ferdinando deserved, said Sir Giles, and if I had known it, he should have had no such indulgence. Star chamber delinquents cannot expect to be treated like ordinary prisoners. If they do, they will be undeceived when brought here, eh, Master Tunstall? Most true, Sir Giles, most true, replied the deputy warden. Star chamber prisoners will get little indulgence from me, I warrant them. Unless they bride you well, eh, Master Joachim? whispered Sir Giles merrily. Rest easy on that score, Sir Giles, I am incorruptible, unless you allow it, rejoined the other, obsequiously. My poor father ejaculated Sir Jocelyn, and thou were't condemned without a crime to a death of lingering agony within this horrible cell. The bare idea of it is madness, but heaven, though its judgments be slow, will yet avenge thee upon thy murderers. Take heed what you say, prisoner, observed Grimbald, changing his manner, and speaking with great harshness. Every word you utter against the decrees of the star chamber will be reported to the council and will be brought up against you. So you had best be cautious. Your father was not murdered. He was immured in this cell in pursuance of a sentence of the High Court, and he died before his term of captivity had expired. That is all. Oh, the days and nights of anguish and despair he must have endured during that long captivity, exclaimed Sir Jocelyn, before whose gaze a vision of his dying father seemed to pass, filling him with an utterable horror. Days and nights, which will henceforth be your own, roared Sir Giles, and you will then comprehend the nature of your father's feelings. But he escaped what you will not escape, exposure on the pillory, branding on the cheek, loss of ears, slitting of the nose, and it may be scourging. The goodly appearance you have inherited from your sire will not be long left when the tormentor takes you in hand. Ha! Ha! One censored by the star chamber must wear a paper on his breast at the pillory. You must not forget that mark of infamy, Sir Giles, said the Deputy Warden, chuckling. No, no, I forget it not, laughed the extortioner. How ingeniously devised are our star chamber punishments, Master Joachim, and how well they meet the offenses. Infamous libelers and slanderers of the state, like Sir Jocelyn, are ever punished in one way. But new crimes require new manner of punishment. You recollect the case of Trotsky, who practiced Judaism and forbade the use of swine's flesh, and who was sentenced to be fed upon nothing but pork during his confinement. I recollect it perfectly, cried Tunstall, a just judgment. The wretch abhorred the food and would have starved himself rather than take it. But we forced the greasy morsels down his throat. Ha! Ha! You are merry, Sir Giles. Very merry. I have not seen you so glissom, this many a day, scarcely since the time when Clémont Lanier underwent his sentence. Ah! the accursed traitor, exclaimed Sir Giles, with an explosion of rage. Would he had to go through it again? If I catch him, he shall, and I am sure to lay hands upon him soon. But to our present prisoner, you will treat him in all respects, as his father was treated, Master Joachim. But no one must come nigh him. No one shall approach him, save with an order from the council, Sir Giles, replied the other. Not even then, said the extortioner decisively, my orders alone must be attended to. Ha!m! ejaculated the deputy warden, somewhat perplexed. Well, I will follow out your instructions as strictly as I can, Sir Giles. I suppose you have nothing more to say to the prisoner, and Grimbald may as well lock him up. And receiving a nod of assent from the other, he called to the jailer to finish his task. But Sir Jocelyn resolutely refused to enter the cell, and demanded a room in one of the upper wards. You shall have no other chamber than this, said Sir Giles, in a preemptory tone. I did not address myself to you, sir, but to the deputy warden, rejoined Sir Jocelyn, Master Joachim Tunstall. You well know I am not sentenced by the star chamber or any other court to confinement within this cell. I will not enter it, and I order you at your peril to provide me with a better chamber. This is wholly unfit for occupation. Do not argue the point, Grimbald, but force him into the cell, roared the extortioner. Fair and softly, Sir Giles. Fair and softly, replied the jailer. Now, prisoner, you hear what is said. Are you prepared to obey? And he was about to lay hands rudely upon Sir Jocelyn, when the latter, pushing him aside, ran nimbly up the steps, and, ceasing, Sir Giles by the throat, dragged him downward, notwithstanding the resistance of the extortioner, whose efforts at liberation were seconded by Grimbald, our young knight succeeded in forcing his enemy into the dungeon, and hurled him to the further end of it. During the struggle, Sir Jocelyn had managed to possess himself of the other sword, and he now pointed it at his breast. You have constituted yourself, my jailer, he cried, and by the soul of him who perished in this loathsome cell by your instrumentality, I will send you instantly to account for your crimes on high, unless you promise to assign me a different chamber. I promise it, replied Sir Giles, you shall have the best in the fleet. Let me go forth, and you shall choose one for yourself. I will not trust you, false villain, cried Sir Jocelyn, give orders to the Deputy Warden, and if he pledges his word they shall be obeyed, I will take it, otherwise you die. Bedmaster Tunstall come to me, Grimbald gasped the extortioner. I am here, Sir Giles, I am here, replied the Deputy Warden, cautiously entering the cell. What would you have me do? Free me from this restraint, cried Sir Giles, struggling to regain his feet. Sir Jocelyn shortened his sword in order to give him a mortal thrust, but his purpose was prevented by Grimbald. With his heavy bunch of keys, the jailer struck the young knight upon the head, and stretched him insensible upon the ground. End of Chapter 25 Chapter 26 of The Star Chamber An Historical Romance Volume 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by JennyVoyce.com The Star Chamber An Historical Romance Volume 2 By William Harrison Ainsworth Chapter 26 A Secret Friend When Sir Jocelyn again became conscious, he found he had been transported to a different cell, which in comparison with the stone coffin was clean and comfortable. The walls were of stone, and the pallet on which he was laid was of straw, but the place was dry and free from the noisome effluvium pervading the lower dungeon. The consideration shown him originated in the conviction, on the part of the Deputy Warden, that the young man must die if left in his wounded state in that unwholesome vault. And so the removal took place, in spite of the objections raised by Sir Giles Mompesson, who would have willingly let him perish. But Master Tunstall dreaded an inquiry, as the prisoner had not yet been sentenced by the council. After glancing round his cell, and endeavouring recall the events that had conducted him to it, Sir Jocelyn tried to raise himself, but found his limbs so stiff he could not accomplish his object, and he sank back with a groan. At this moment the door opened, and Grimbald accompanied by a repulsive looking personage with a face like a grinning mask advanced toward the pallet. This is the wounded man, Master Luke Hatten, said the jailer. You will exert your best skill to cure him, and you must use dispatch, in case he should be summoned before the council. The council must come to him if they desire to interrogate him now, replied Luke Hatten, adding after he had examined the injuries received by the young knight. He is badly hurt, but not so severely as I expected. I will undertake to set him upon his legs in three days. I did as much for Sir Giles Mompesson, and he was wounded in the same manner. Why, this is the young knight who struck down Sir Giles at the jousts, said Grimbald. Strange, you should have two mortal enemies to deal with. Is this Sir Jocelyn Mouchensi, inquired Luke Hatten with a pair of curiosity? You did not tell me so before. Perhaps I ought not to have told you so now, returned the other. But do you take any interest in him? Not much, replied the apothecary. But I have heard his name often mentioned of late. You need not be uneasy about this young man being summoned before the star chamber. The great case of the counters of Exeter against Lady Lake comes on before the king and the lords of the council tomorrow or next day, and it will occupy all their attention. They will have no time for ought else. What think you will be the judgment in that case? inquired Grimbald. I have my own opinion, returned the apothecary with a significant smile. But I care not to reveal it. I am a witness in the case myself, and something may depend on my evidence. You asked me just now whether I took any interest in this young man. I will tell you what surprised me to find him here. Sir Francis Mitchell has taken it into his head to rob him of his intended bride. Ah, indeed, exclaimed the jailer with a laugh. The old doder does not mean to marry her? By my troth, but he does, and the wedding is to be a grand one. I will tell you more about it, Anon. At this moment Sir Jocelyn, who had hitherto remained with his eyes closed, uttered a cry of anguish, and again vainly endeavored to raise himself. Aveline married to Sir Francis, he cried. Said you, she was to be forced into a union with that hoary miscreant. It must be prevented. I see not how it can be, Sir Jocelyn, replied Luke Hatton, since she is in the power of Sir Giles Mompesson. Besides which, the hoary miscreant, as you style him, will take means to ensure her acquiescence. Means? What means? demanded Sir Jocelyn, ridding in agony. A love potion, replied Luke Hatton calmly. I am about to prepare a filter for her, and will answer for its effect. She will be the old knights, and without opposition. Infernal villain, and that I should be lying here, unable to give her aid! And overcome by the intensity of his emotion, as well as by acute bodily suffering. Sir Jocelyn relapsed into insensibility. He was not, however, suffered to remain long in this state. Stimulants applied by Luke Hatton soon restored him to consciousness. The first object his gaze fell upon was the apothecary, and he was about to vent his fury upon him in words, when the latter, cautiously raising his fingers to his lips, said in a whisper, I am a friend, Grimbald is only at the door, and a single exclamation on your part will betray me. He then leaned down, and bringing his lips almost close to the young knight's ear, whispered. What I said before the jailer was correct. I have been applied to, by Sir Francis, for a filter to be administered to Mistress Aveline, and I have promised it to him. But I am secretly in the service of Clement Lanier, and will defeat the old user's villainous designs. Sir Jocelyn could not repress a cry of delight, and Grimbald entered the cell. Recording by Deon Giants, Salt Lake City, Utah. The Star Chamber and Historical Romance, Volume 2. By William Harrison Ainsworth, Chapter 17. Showing how judgment was given by King James in the Star Chamber, in the great cause of the Countess of Exeter, against Sir Thomas and Lady Lake, five days had King James and the whole of the privy council been sitting within the Star Chamber, and the great cause that had occupied them during the whole of that time was drawing to an end, little remaining for his majesty to do in it except to pronounce sentence. The cause to which James and his counsellors had lent a hearing so long and patient was no other than that of the Countess of Exeter against Sir Thomas Lake and his Lady. Throughout it, whether prompted or not, as to the course he pursued, the monarch displayed great sagacity and penetration. Prior to the trial, and when the preliminary statements had alone been laid before him, he determined personally to investigate the matter, and without acquainting anyone with his design while out hunting, he rode over to the Earl of Exeter's residence at Wimbledon, the place it will be recollected, where the forged confession was alleged to have been signed by the Countess and proceeded to examine the particular chamber indicated by Lady Lake and Sarah Swarton as the scene of the transaction. He was accompanied by Buckingham and some other lords high in his favour. On examination it was found that the chamber was of such size, and the lower part of it, where Sarah was reported to have been concealed, was so distant from the large bay window that any conversation held there must have been inaudible to her, as was proved upon experiment by the King and his attendants. But the crowning circumstance was the discovery made by James himself, for his courtiers were too discreet to claim any share in it, that the hangings did not reach within two feet of the floor, and consequently could not have screened a secret witness from view, while it was further ascertained that the eras had been entirely undisturbed for several years. On making this discovery, James rubbed his hands with great glee and exclaimed, Aha! my Lady Lake and her Handmaiden may forswear themselves if they choose, but they will not convince me. Oath cannot confound my sight. This asseveration he repeated during the trial, at which he proffered his own testimony in favour of the plaintiff, and indeed it was evident from the first, however much he might seek to disguise it, that he was strongly biased toward the Countess. Not content, however, with the discovery he had made at Wimbledon, James had secretly dispatched a sergeant at arms to Rome, where Lord Ruse had taken up his residence after leaving England, and obtained from him and from his confidential servant Diego a statement incriminating Lady Lake and denouncing the confession as a wicked forgery. Luke Hatton, moreover, who had gone over, as already intimated, to the side of the Countess, and who took care to hide his own complicity in the dark affair, and to give a very different colour to his conduct from what really belonged to it, Luke Hatton, we say, became a most important witness against the Lakes, and it was said to be owing to his crafty insinuations that the King conceived the idea of visiting Wimbledon, as before mentioned. Notwithstanding all this, there were many irreconcilable contradictions, and the notoriously bad character of Lord Ruse, his cruel treatment of his wife, and his passionate devotion to the Countess led many to suspect that, after all, he and Lady Exeter were the guilty parties they were represented. Moreover, by such as had any knowledge of the man, Luke Hatton was not esteemed a credible witness, and it was generally thought that his testimony, not to be received by the King, or accepted only with the greatest caution. But the opinions favourable to Lady Lake and her husband underwent an entire change in the early part of the trial, when, to the surprise of all, and to the inexpressible dismay of her parents, Lady Ruse, who had been included in the process by the Countess, made a confession wherein she admitted that the document produced by her mother against Lady Exeter was fabricated, and that all the circumstances said to be connected with it at the time of its supposed signature were groundless and imaginary. The unfortunate Lady's motive for making this revelation was the desire of screening her husband, and so infatuated was she by her love of him, that she allowed herself to be persuaded by the artful suggestions it was whispered of Luke Hatton, that this would be the means of accomplishing their reconciliation, and that she would be rewarded for her devotion by his returning regard. If such was her belief, she was doomed to disappointment. She never beheld him again. Lord Ruse died abroad soon after the trial took place, nor did his ill-fated lady long survive him. Thus it will be seen all circumstances were adverse to the lakes, but in spite of the difficulties surrounding her, and the weight of evidence true or false brought against her, no concession could be obtained from Lady Lake, and she stoutly protested her innocence and retaliated in most forcible terms upon her accusers. She gave a flat contradiction to her daughter, and poured terrible melodictions on her head, ceasing them not until silenced by command of the King. The fearful charges brought by her ladyship against Luke Hatton produced some effect and were listened to, but as they could only be substantiated by herself and Sarah Swarton, they fell to the ground, since here again Lady Ruse refused to be a witness against her husband, unwilling to admit his wife's criminality, though urged by the King to do so in order to save himself, Sir Thomas Lake was unable to make a successful defense, and he seemed so much bowed down by affliction and perplexity that sympathy was generally felt for him. Indeed, his dignified deportment and reserve gave him some claim to consideration. In this way was the trial brought to a close after three days' duration. Now let a glance be cast round the room wherein the lords of the council were deliberating upon their judgment. It was the star chamber. Situated on the southeastern side of Westminster Hall near the river, this famous room wherein the secret councils of the kingdom were then held, and had been held during many previous rains, was more remarkable for the beauty of its ceiling than for size or splendor. That ceiling was of oak, richly carved and gilt, and disposed in squares in the mists of which were roses, portcullises, pomegranates, and florida lee. Over the door leading to the chamber was placed a star in allusion to its name with the day 1602. Its walls were covered with ancient tapestry, and it had many windows looking towards the river, and filled with painted glass. Though it would appear to be obvious enough, much doubt has been entertained as to the derivation of the name of this celebrated court. Some think it so-called, writes the author of a learned treatise on its jurisdiction, before cited, of Crimean stallionatus, because it handleeth such things and cases as our strange and unusual sum of Stalin. I confess I am in that point a Platonist in opinion, that Nomina natura fient podius quam vaga impostitone. And so I doubt not, but Camara stallata, for so I find it called in our ancient yearbooks, is most aptly named, not because the star chamber where the court is kept is so adorned with stars gilded as some would have it, for surely the chamber is so adorned because it is the seal of that court at Denomenatio, being a Pristantiori, magis, dignum, trahit, ad se minus. And it was so fitly called, because the stars have no light, but what is cast upon them from the sun by reflection, being his representative body, and as his majesty was pleased to say when he sat there in his royal person, representation must need cease when the person is present. So in the presence of his great majesty, the which is the sun of honor and glory, the shining of those stars is put out, they not having any power to pronounce any sentence in this court, for the judgment is the king's only, but by way of advice they deliver their opinions, which his wisdom alloweth or disalloweth, increases or moderatedeth at his royal pleasure. This explanation, which seems rather given for the purpose of paying a fulsome compliment to James, in whose reign the treatise in question was written, is scarcely satisfactory. And we have little doubt that the name originated in the circumstance of the roof of the chamber being embellished with gilded stars. We are told in strips stow that the star chamber was so called, either by derivation from the old English word stearan, which signifyeth to steer or rule as doth the pilot of a ship, because the king and council did sit here as it were at the stern and did govern in the ship of the common wealth. Some derive in from steleo, which signifies that starry and subtle beast so called, from which cometh the word steleonatus, that signifyeth cosinage, because that crime was chiefly punishable in this court by an extraordinary power as it was in the civil law, or because the roof of this court was garnished with gilded stars, as the room itself was starry or full of windows and lights, in which respect some of the Latin records name it camara stalata, the French chamber does atoyles, and the English the starred chamber. The derivation of the name we repeat seems to us sufficiently simple and obvious, but as it has been matter of controversy we have thought it worthwhile to advert to the circumstance to proceed in a chair of state elevated above the table round which the lords of the council were gathered, and having a canopy over it sat the king, calmly watching them as they pursued their deliberations, his own mind being completely made up as to the sentence he should pronounce, and ever and anon stealing a glance at Lady Lake and her husband, who were seated behind a bar that crossed the room below the council table. The defendants or prisoners for such an effect they were, were under the guard of a pursuant and a sergeant at arms, a little behind them was Sarah Swarton, but though faint and frightened and scarcely able to sustain herself she was not allowed a seat, on a raised bench at the side sat the beautiful Countess of Exeter, radiant with smiles and triumph, she was receiving the congratulations of several dames of high rank by whom she was accompanied. Amongst the judges of the court were the Lord Chancellor who sat immediately under the king with his mace and seal before him, the Lord Treasurer and the keeper of the privy seal, the president of the council, the judges, the archbishop of Canterbury and eight bishops and other prelates, and all the dukes, marquise, earls and barons composing the privy council to the number of forty. Besides these there were present Prince Charles, three of the leisure ambassadors, and many other distinguished persons, though all had gone against her. Lady Lake Spirit was still undiminished, and she eyed the council imperiously, but her husband's regards were fixed upon the ground, and his head rested upon his breast. After some further time had been needlessly consumed by the council in stating their opinions to the king, he prepared to deliver judgment. On this the defendants arose, and profound silence reigned throughout the court as James addressed them. The sentence was to this effect, a fine of upwards of twenty two thousand pounds was imposed upon Sir Thomas, with a further censure of imprisonment in the tower during the king's pleasure. Lady Lake was to be imprisoned with him, a public recognition of their offence for reparation of the countess's injured honor was to be made by them, in the most ample manner his majesty could devise. Sarah Swarton was adjudged to the fleet, hence ran the sentence to be whipped at the cart's tail to Westminster and afterwards from the same place to Cheapside, at Cheapside to be branded with F.A. signifying false accusation, one letter on either cheek, to do public penance in St. Martin's Church, to be detained in the fleet till they do weary of her, and then to be sent to Bridewell, there to spend and end her days. When the poor handmaiden heard this severe sentence, she uttered a cry of despair and fell down on the floor in a swoon. Thereupon the delinquents were removed, and as Lady Lake withdrew, a look passed between her and the countess, which in spite of the assurance of the latter, made her turn pale and tremble. In a very remarkable letter subsequently addressed by Lady Lake, to her successful opponent in this great case, she said, I wish my submission could make you an innocent woman and wash you as white as a swan, but it must be your own submission unto God, and many prayers and tears and afflictions, which, seeing you have not outwardly, examine your heart and think on times past, and remember what I have written to you here to fore. The same I do now again, for I yet nothing doubt, but that, although the Lord Ruse was sent away, and is dead, yet truth lives. The truth, however, was never fully brought to light, and that justice, which the vindictive lady expected, was denied her. End of Chapter 27 Chapter 28 of the Star Chamber and Historical Romance, Volume 2 This is a LibriVox recording. A LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Dion Giants, Salt Lake City, Utah. The Star Chamber and Historical Romance, Volume 2, by William Harrison Ainsworth. Chapter 18 The Two Warrants At the conclusion of the trial, James was observed to smile, and Buckingham, who had drawn near the chair of state, then chured to inquire what it was that entertained his majesty. Our fancy has been tickled by a curious conceit, answered the king. We discern a singular similitude between the case we have just heard, and the transgression of our first parents. How so, your majesty? asked the favorite. As thus replied James, Sir Thomas Lake may be likened to our good father, Adam, what fell into sin from listening to the beguilements of Eve, Mithra Eve, being represented by his daughter, My Lady Ruse, and ye will own that there cannot be a closer resemblance to the wildly old serpent than we find in My Lady Lake. Excellent, cried Buckingham, joining in the royal laughter. But before your majesty quits that seat, I must entreat you to perform that which I know you delight in, an act of justice. Another act of justice, ye should say, my lord, return James in a tone of slight rebuke, seeing we have just delivered a most memorable judgment in a case which has cost us five days of incessant labor and anxious consideration. But what is it ye require at our hands, in whose behalf are we to exercise our prerogative? In that of Sir Jocelyn, Mountain Sea, my gracious liege, replied Buckingham, who has been committed to the fleet for contempt of this high and honorable court, and can only be released by your majesty's warrant. As I was myself present on the occasion, when the intemperate expressions laid to his charge were used, I can affirm that he was goaded on by his enemies to utter them, and that in his calmer moments he must have regretted his rashness. Ye shall have the warrant, my lord, said James, with a smile, and it does ye Mechel credit to have made the request. The punishment Sir Jocelyn has already endured is amply sufficient for the offense, and we have no fears of its being repeated. A single visit to the fleet is enough for any man. But in respect to Sir Jocelyn, I am happy to say that his Excellency, the Condé de Gondemar, has quite set him right in our good opinion, and has satisfactorily proved to us that the spy we suspected him to be was another person which shall be nameless. Ha! Here comes the Count himself, he exclaimed, as the Spanish ambassador approached. Your Excellency will be glad to hear, after the handsome manner you have spoken of him, that it is our intention to restore Sir Jocelyn to the favor he previously enjoyed. My lord of Buckingham is to have a warrant for his release from the fleet, and we shall trust to see him soon at court, as here to fore. While your majesty is in this gracious mood, said de Gondemar, bending lowly, suffer me to prefer a request respecting a person of very inferior consequence to Sir Jocelyn, but one in whom I nevertheless take an interest, and who is likewise a prisoner in the fleet. And ye require a warrant for his liberation? Ah, Count! Your Majesty has said it, replied de Gondemar, again bending lowly. What is the nature of his offense, demanded the king. A trifling outrage upon myself, returned the ambassador. A mere nothing, your Majesty. Ah, I know whom you mean. You refer to that rascally apprentice, Dick Taverner, cried James. Call ye his attack upon you, a trifling outrage, a mere nothing? Count, I call it a riot, almost a rebellion, to assault an ambassador. Whatever it may be, I am content to overlook it, said de Gondemar, and in soothe the knaves had received some provocation. Ah, well, since your Excellency is disposed to view it in that light, rejoined James, since ye display such generosity towards your enemies, far be it from us to oppose your wishes. The order for the apprentice's release shall be made out. At the same time as Sir Jocelyn's, my Lord of Buckingham, will give orders to that effect to the clerk of the court, and we will attach our sign manual to the warrants. And now have ye not done? He continued, observing that Buckingham still lingered. Have ye any more requests to prefer? I had some request to make on the part of the prince, my liege, replied the Marquis, but his highness, I perceive, is about to speak to you himself. As he said this, Prince Charles, who had occupied a seat among the council, drew near, and stepping upon the elevation on which the chair of state was placed, so as to bring himself on a level with his royal father, made along, and apparently important communication to him, in a very low tone. James listened to what was said by his son with great attention, and seemed much surprised and indignant at the circumstances, whatever they were, related to him. Ever and anon he could not repress a great oath, and but for the entreaties of Charles would have given vent to an expression of collar which must have betrayed the secret reposed to his keeping. Calming himself, however, as well as he could, he at length said, in a low tone, We confide the matter to you, since you desire it, for we are assured our dear son will act worthily, and well, as our representative, ye shall be clothed with our authority, and have power to punish these heinous offenders as ye see fit. We will confirm your judgments, whatever they be, and so will our previe council. I must have power to pardon, as well as to punish my gracious liege, said Charles. Ye shall have both answered the king, but the distinction is needless, since the one is comprehended in the other. You shall have our own seal and act as if ye were king yourself, and ye will be one of these days. Will that contain ye? Perfectly replied Charles, gratefully kissing his royal father's hand, and descending from the platform he proceeded to join Buckingham and DeGondemire, with whom he held a brief whispered conference. Meanwhile the two warrants were made out, and received the royal signature, after which James quitted the court, and the council broke up. The warrants having been delivered by the clerk to Buckingham were entrusted by the latter to Luke Hatten, who it appeared was waiting for them in the outer gallery, and after the latter had received some directions respecting them from the marquee, he hastened away. As he passed through the new palace-yard, Luke Hatten encountered a tall man muffled in a long black cloak. A few words were exchanged between them, and the information gained by the individual in the cloak seemed perfectly satisfactory to him, so he went his way while Luke Hatten repaired to the fleet prison. There he was at once admitted to the ward wherein Sir Jocelyn was confined, and announced to him the glad tidings of his restoration to freedom. By this time Sir Jocelyn was perfectly recovered from the injuries he had received from the jailer during his struggle with Sir Giles' mampessen, so that there was no obstacle to his removal, and his natural wish was to quit the prison at once. But such cogent reasons were assigned by Luke Hatten for his remaining there for another day, that he could not but acquiesce in them. Indeed, when all the circumstances were explained to him as they were by the apothecary, he could not but approve of the plan, which it appeared was about to be acted upon in the next day for the punishment of his enemies, and it then became evident why Sir Giles should not be made acquainted with his release, which must be the case if the warrant were immediately acted upon. Neither the deputy warden nor the jailer, both of whom, as he knew, were the extortioners' creatures, were to be informed of it till the last moment. Certain disclosures respecting Clément Lanier, which were made by Luke Hatten to the young knight, affected him very deeply, and plunged him for a long time in painful thought. Quitting the cell of the more important prisoner, Luke Hatten proceeded to that of the apprentice whom he acquainted with his good fortune, holding out to him certain prospects of future happiness which drove poor Dick nearly distracted. At the suggestion of his new friend, the apprentice wrote a letter to Gillian Greenford, conjuring her by the love she bore him, and by their joint hopes of a speedy union implicitly to comply with the directions of the bearer of the note, whatever they might be, and armed with this Luke Hatten quitted the meat and, procuring a horse, rode off at a rapid pace to Tottenham. CHAPTER XXIX THE SILVER COFFER Within Sir Giles Mompesson's vast and gloomy mention it has been said there were certain rooms which, from their size and splendor, formed a striking contrast to the rest of the habitation, never used except on extraordinary occasions when their owner gave a grand entertainment with some ulterior object. These apartments, notwithstanding their magnificence, partook in some degree of the chilling and inhospitable character of the house, even when brilliantly lighted up they wanted warmth and comfort, and though the banquets given within them were sumptuous and profuse and the wine flowed without stint, the guests went away dissatisfied and railing against their ostentatious host. Thus, though the stone walls were hung with rich tapestry, the dust had gathered thickly upon its folds, while portions of the rugged masonry were revealed to view. The furniture was massive but cumbrous and ill assorted, and the gilded ceiling and Venetian mirrors from want of care had become tarnished and dim. Such as they were, however, these apartments were assigned to Evelyn when she was forcibly brought to the extortioner's habitation, as before narrated. Allowed to range within them at pleasure, she was kept strictly within their limits. The doors were constantly guarded by one or other of the murmidons, and any communication with the external world was impossible because the windows were partially graded and looked into a courtyard. Beyond this she was subjected to no restraint, and her own attendants, Dame Sherbourne and old Anthony Rock, were suffered to remain with her. Had it not been for her exposure to the annoyance of frequent visits from Sir Francis Mitchell and her anxiety about Sir Jocelyn, Evelyn would not have found her confinement so intolerable. But the enamored old user persecuted her at all hours, and she could never be free from the intrusion since the doors could not be shot against him. Sometimes he came accompanied by his partner, though more frequently alone, but ever with the same purpose, namely that of protesting the violence of his passion and seeking to soften her obduracy. As maybe well-supposed, his pleadings, however urged, were wholly ineffectual and excited no other feelings except those of detestation in her bosom. Such a state of things could not endure forever, and her only hope was that finding all his efforts to move her fruitless he would in time desist from them, not that she was without other fearful apprehensions which were shared by her attendants. Nearly a fortnight had thus passed by, when one day, during which she had seen nothing of her tormentor and was rejoicing at the circumstance, the repast usually served at noon was brought in by a fresh, serving man. Something in this person's manner, and in the meaning glance, he fixed upon her, attracted her attention. Otherwise he was a man of singularly unprepossessing appearance. She addressed a few words to him, but he made no reply, and became suddenly as reserved as his predecessor had been. This deportment, however, it presently appeared, was only assumed. While placing a flask of wine on the table, the man said in a low tone, I am a friend of Sir Jocelyn. Constrain yourself, or you will betray me. Sir Francis is watching us from an eyelet hole in the door. Drink of this, he added, pouring wine into a goblet. Is it medicated? She asked, in a whisper, regarding him anxiously. It is supposed to be so, he answered, with a scarcely perceptible smile. Drink, I say, if you do not, you will mar my project. Tis well, he added, as she raised the goblet to her lips. A few words must explain my design. Sir Francis will fancy you have swallowed a love potion. Take care not to undeceive him, for on that belief rests your safety. When he presents himself, as he will do shortly, do not repulse him as heretofore. Smile on him as kindly as you can, and though the task of duping him may be difficult and distasteful to you, shrink not from it. The necessity of the case justifies the deception. If he presses his suit, no longer refuse him your hand. I cannot do it, murmured Evelyn, with a shudder. You must, rejoined Luke Hatton, for it was he, or incur worse dangers. Provoked by your resistance, Sir Francis has lost all patience, and is determined to accomplish his purpose. Knowing my skill as a brewer of filters, he has applied to me, and I have promised him aid. But have no fear, though employed by him, I am devoted to you, and will affect your deliverance, I, and avenge you upon your persecutors at the same time. If you follow my instructions, exactly, raise the goblet to your lips again, quaff its contents without apprehension, they are perfectly harmless. Force smiles to your features, give tenderness to your tones, and softness to your glances, and all will be one. And with a grin, which though intended to encourage her, somewhat alarmed Evelyn, he took up the flask of wine, and departed. As her singular advisor had predicted, it was not long before the old userer made his appearance evidently full of eagerness to ascertain whether any change had been wrought in her disposition towards him by the wonder-working draft, dissembling her aversion as well as she could, and assuming looks very foreign to her feelings, she easily succeeded in persuading him that the filter had taken effect, and that all obstacles to his happiness were removed. Transported with rapture, he fell upon his knees, and besought her to crown his felicity by consenting to their union on the following day. Bewildered by various emotions, yet still managing to play her part, she returned an answer which he construed into an affirmative, and now, quite beside himself with delight, the amorous old daughtered left her. The alteration in Evelyn's manner and deportment towards her persecutor did not escape the notice of her attendance, and greatly perplexed them. Dame Sherbourne ventured to remonstrate with her, hoping that she could not be in earnest, and old Anthony Rock bluntly told her he would rather see her in her grave than the bride of such a ory reprobate as Sir Francis. Aware that her actions were watched, Evelyn thought it best to dissemble, even with her attendance, and they were both convinced she was either bewitched or had lost her senses, and in either case bitterly deplored her fate. Nor must it be supposed that Evelyn herself was without much secret misgiving, however skillfully and courageously she might act her part. The appearance of Luke Hatton as we have more than once remarked was calculated to inspire distrust in all brought in contact with him, and with no other proofs of his sincerity, except such as were furnished by the circumstances, she might well entertain suspicion of him. While professing devotion, he might intend to betray her. In that event, if driven to extremity, she resolved to liberate herself by the only means that would then be left her. In the evening, Luke Hatton paid her a second visit, and on this occasion comported himself with as much caution as at first. He applauded her conduct toward Sir Francis, whom he stated to be most effectually duped, and counseled her to persevere in the same course, adding with his customary sardonic grin that grand preparations were making for the wedding feast, but he thought the cook's labors likely to be thrown away. Next day Avalyn found all her counselor had told her was correct. Several of the rooms hitherto thrown open to her in a special, the great, banqueting chamber were now closed, and it was evident from the sounds that reached her ear, footsteps, hurrying to and fro, loud, impatient voices, and noises occasioned by the removal of furniture and the placing of chairs and tables together with the clatter of plates and dishes that preparations for a festival were going on actively within them. Nothing could equal the consternation and distress exhibited by Dame Sherbourne and old Anthony Rock, but faithful to her scheme, Avalyn, however she desired it, did not relieve their anxiety. At noon Luke Hatton came again. He seemed in great glee and informed her that all was going on as well as could be desired. He counseled her to make two requests of Sir Francis, first that he should endow her with ten thousand marks to be delivered to her before the nuptials, secondly that she should be permitted to shroud her features and person in avail during the marriage ceremony, without inquiring the meaning of these requests, which indeed she partly conjectured. Avalyn promised ready compliance, and her advisor left her, but not till he had once more proffered her this opposed filter, and caused her to place the cup containing it to her lips. Erlong he was succeeded by Sir Francis, a raid like a bridegroom in doublet and hose of white satin thickly laid with silver lace and a short French mantle of sky blue velvet, branched with silver flowers, white roses in his shoes, and drooping white plumes arranged a la vanolle in his hat. Besides this he was trimmed, curled, oiled, and would have got himself ground young again, had such a process been practicable. But though he could not affect this, he did the next thing to it, and employed all the restoratives suggested by Luke Hatten. He bathed in milk, breakfasted on snail-broth, and swallowed a strange potion prepared for him by the apothecary, which the latter affirmed would make a new man of him, and renovate all his youthful ardor. It certainly had produced an extraordinary effect, and when he presented himself before Alvaline, his gestures were so extravagant, and his looks so wild and unpleasant that it was with the utmost difficulty she repressed a scream. His cheeks were flushed as if with fever, and his eyes dilated and burning with unnatural luster. He spoke almost incoherently, tossing his arms about, and performing the antics of a madman. The filter it was clear had been given him, and he was now under its influence. Amid all this strange frenzy, so alarming to Alvaline, he dwelt upon nothing but his inextinguishable passion, and never for a moment withdrew his fevered gaze from her. He told her he would be her slave for life, proud to wear her chains, and that she should be absolute mistress of his house and all his possessions. On this she mustered up resolution to prefer the requests she had been counseled to make, and Sir Francis, who was in no mood to refuse her anything, at once acceded to them. He laughed at the notion of the veil, said it was a delicate fancy, and quite charmed him. But as to the ten thousand marks they were utterly unworthy of her acceptance, and she should have thrice the amount delivered to her in a silver coffer before the ceremony. With these, and a great many other professions, he released her from his presence, which had become well-nigh insupportable. After a while a magnificent bridal dress of white satin, richly trimmed with lace, together with a thick white veil of the largest size calculated to envelop her whole person, were brought her by a young damsel who told her she was engaged to serve her as tire woman, adding that she hoped she would be able to satisfy her ladyship as she had already served the countess of Exeter in that capacity. Why do you call me ladyship, child? said Avalon, without looking at her, I have no right to any such title. But you soon will have, replied the young tire woman, as the bride of Sir Francis, you must needs be my lady Mitchell. Checking the rejoinder that rose to her lips, Avalon cast her eyes for the first time on the speaker, and then, to her great surprise, perceived it to be her village acquaintance, Jillian Greenford, a significant glance from the blue eyes of the pretty damsel impressed her with the necessity of caution, and seemed to intimate that Jillian herself was likewise in the plot, and so it presently appeared she was, for when the damsel had an opportunity of talking quite in private to her new mistress, she informed her of the real motive of her coming there. I am engaged by one who wishes you well to take your place, sweet mistress Avalon, and to be married in your stead to Sir Francis Mitchell, she said, and have you really consented to such an arrangement, rejoined Avalon, is it possible you can sacrifice yourself thus? I am not to be sacrificed, returned the damsel quickly. If it were so, I would never have agreed to this game, but I am told I shall get a fortune, and oh, then the ten thousand marks are for you, interrupted the other. I now see the meaning of that part of the plan, but what else do you hope to accomplish? The deliverance of my unfortunate lover, Dick Tavener, from the fleet, she answered, but how is your marrying this wicked old user to affect your object, inquired Avalon? You may save me by the proposed stratagem, but you will destroy your own happiness and all your lover's hopes. No, no, I shall not, replied Jillian hastily. I can't tell how it's to be managed, but I am quite sure no harm will happen to me, and that Dick's restoration to liberty will be the reward of the service, if such it may be called, that I am about to render you. He wrote to me so himself. At least tell me by whom you are engaged, and I can then judge of the probability of the rest happening in the way you anticipate. Do not question me further, sweet mistress, replied the damsel, for I am bound to secrecy, but thus much I may declare, I am the agent of one who, for some purposes of his own, be they what they may, is determined to counteract all Sir Francis' vile machinations against you, as well as those of his partner, Sir Giles Mompesson, against your lover, Sir Jocelyn, mountain sea. Ah, you understand me now, I perceive, sweet mistress, you have been guarded by this unseen but watchful friend, during the whole of your confinement in this dreadful habitation, and he has kept an equal watch over your lover in the fleet. What? Is Sir Jocelyn a prisoner in the fleet? exclaimed Evelyn. I knew it not. He is, but the period of his deliverance approaches, replied Jocelyn. The secret friend I spoke of has bided his time, and the hour is at hand, when full measure of revenge will be dealt upon those two wicked oppressors. He has long worked towards it, and I myself am to be an humble instrument towards the great. And you astonish me, cried Evelyn, greatly surprised at the change in the damsel's manner, as well as by what she said. Do not perplex yourself, fair mistress, pursued Jillian. All will be speedily made known to you. But now, no more time must be lost, and we must each assume the character we have to enact, as I am to be the bride, and you, the tire woman, you must condescend to aid me in putting on these rich robes, and then disguise yourself in my rustic attire. We are both pretty nearly of a size, so there is little risk of detection in that particular. And if you can but conceal your features for a short while on Sir Francis's entrance, the trick will never be discovered. All the rest has been arranged, and I am a mere puppet in the hands of others, to be played as they direct. Bless us how beautiful this dress is, to be sure what satan and what lace the countess of Exeter has just such another. Have you heard that her ladyship has gained her cause against those wicked lakes who conspired against her? But what am I saying? When I know you cannot have heard of it. Well then, it occupied five days in the star chamber, and Sir Thomas and his lady are sent to the tower, and Sarah's swarton to the fleet, poor creature. She is to be whipped and branded, and to do penance in St. Martin's Church, dreadful. But I won't think of it. I wonder how this dress will become me. How astounded Dick Tavener would be if he could only see me in it. May have he will, there's no saying. And now, fair mistress, may I crave your aid? While Gillian was thus running on, she had partially disrobed herself, and very soon afterwards was decked out in the rich attire, the effect of which upon her own person she was so desirous of ascertaining. When her toilet was complete, she could not help running up to a mirror, and on seeing the reflection of her well-formed figure now displayed to unwanted advantage, she clapped her hands and cried out with girlish delight, allowing her to gratify her feelings of vanity by the contemplation of her pretty person for a few minutes. Avalyn felt it necessary to recall her to her situation, and her own transformation into the tire woman was speedily affected. Gillian's dress fitted her exactly. The light-hearted damsel was quite as much pleased with this change as with the other, and vowed that Avalyn looked far better in the rustic gown than she herself did in the silken attire. But time pressed, and as Sir Francis might surprise them, they hastened to complete their arrangements. Gillian's comely features, as well as her sumptuous robe, had to be obscured by the envious veil. And as it was thrown over her, she could not help heaving a sigh. Avalyn then put on the muffler, which had been worn by the country damsel, and their disguises were complete. Not a minute too soon. At this juncture, a tap was heard at a door communicating with the adjoining apartment, and the voice of the old usurer was heard inquiring whether his bride was ready. An answer in the affirmative was given by Avalyn, and with a throbbing heart and faltering steps, Gillian prepared to obey the summons. The door was thrown open, and mustering up all her resolution, she passed through it. Both Sir Francis and his partner were waiting to receive her. The latter was richly attired, but had not changed the somber hue of his habiliments, even for the anticipated ceremonial, being clad as usual in black. In this respect, he offered marked contrast to the gay apparel of the antiquated bridegroom, as well as by the calmness of his department, and the stern gravity of his looks. Behind them stood Luke Hatton bearing a heavy silver coffer of antique workmanship. What means this veil? cried Sir Giles, gazing suspiciously at Gillian as she emerged from the inner room, followed cautiously by Avalyn, who was wrapped in the muffler. Why are the bride's features thus hidden? A mere whim, Sir Giles, a pleasant fancy, replied the old usurer, but she must have her way, I mean to indulge her in everything. You are wrong, rejoined the extortioner, make her feel you will be her master, bid her take it off. On no account whatever, Sir Giles, I have only won her by submission, and shall I spoil all, at the last moment, by opposing her inclinations, of a truth not. Who is the maiden with her? demanded Sir Giles, scrutinizing Avalyn, with a keen glance. Why does she wear a muffler? Is that a whim likewise? Perchance it is, replied Sir Francis, but I have given no consent to it. She is only the tire woman. Come, mistress, unmuffle, let us see your face, cried Sir Giles, striding towards the terrified maiden, who thought discovery was now inevitable. But Luke Hatten interposed to save her. Prevent this rudeness, he whispered, plucking Sir Francis' cloak. Prevent it instantly. If her whim be thwarted, I will not answer for the consequences. Desist, Sir Giles, desist, I pray you, cried the old userer, in alarm. It is my bride's wish that her attendant be not interfered with, and mine too. Well, be it as you will, replied the extortioner, testily. But I would not permit the impertinence where I, in your case, the bride must raise her veil when she stands before the priest. She shall do as she pleases, replied Sir Francis gallantly. If she desires to hide her blushes, I will not put any compulsion upon her to disclose them. Come, fair mistress, he added, taking the trembling hand of the veiled maiden. The priest awaits us in the further chamber, where the ceremony is to take place, and where several of the noble and illustrious guests who have consented to grace our nuptials are already assembled. Some of the most illustrious personages in the land will be present, the Marquis of Buckingham, and perhaps Prince Charles himself. His excellency, the Spanish ambassador, has promised to come. Let us on, then. Yet, ere we proceed further, I have to request your acceptance of that silver coffer. The thirty thousand marks within it constitute your dowry. As he spoke, Luke Hatten advanced, and holding the coffer towards the veiled damsel, so that she could touch it, said, place your hand upon this silver box, and take possession of it, fair mistress. I am a witness that Sir Francis Mitchell has freely bestowed it with its contents upon you. It will remain in my custody till you require me to deliver it up to you.