"But she was liberated from the Tower," said my father, "and went back to France."
"But not before I saw her, Master Rashcliffe," replied Katharine Harcomb, "and not before she told me that she was Charles Stuart's wedded wife."
"She told you that?"
"Ay, she told me that."
"But did she tell you where the marriage contract was?" asked my father.
"Of that I shall say nothing until I know whether Master Roland here will undertake the work I have spoken of," and again the woman's dark bright eyes scanned my face, as though she saw there an index to the thoughts which possessed my mind.
"Roland," said my father, "I would e'en talk with Katharine Harcomb alone. Do you leave the room, and return in an hour's time."
I did not much like this, for, as may be imagined, I was much interested, and wanted to hear more of what the woman had to tell; but I obeyed my father quickly as every dutiful son should, and went out of the house into the park lands.
The sun had now gone down, but it was not dark neither did I think it would be throughout the whole night. For not only was there a moon, but the sky was clear. Indeed, the time was the middle of May, when the air was clear and the countryside was beauteous beyond words. It is true the roses had not yet appeared, but the trees were wellnigh in full leaf, for the season was early. Even the oaks and the ashes were covered with spring leaves, which I saw shining in the light of the moon. No stars appeared that night, the moon was so bright, and no sound did I hear save the babbling of the trout stream that ran through the park, and now and then the twitter of a bird which settled itself to rest.
I walked along the grass-grown drive which led to the gates, wondering about what the woman Katharine Harcomb had said, and thinking if ever the time would come when carriages would be drawn up to the house as they were in the days before the Long Parliament, and when my old home would be full of gaiety.
"This is a strange happening," I said to myself. "Ever since Richard Cromwell died my father hath spoken of possible change to our fortunes if Charles should come back, not because the king would do aught for us of his own free will, but because we should gain the power to compel him."
And then as I thought of these things, in spite of the way the woman had inspired my fancy by the story of the king's marriage, the whole thing became like old wives' fables, and I was glad that I had not been led to make any promises.
I had barely got in sight of the gate where I had seen old Adam in the earlier part of the day, when I heard the sound of footsteps. They were not the footsteps of a man: of that I was certain. They were neither firm enough nor heavy enough. Moreover, they were uncertain, and, as I thought, feeble. I stopped and looked along the road, and saw the form of a woman coming towards me.
Bright although the moonlight was, I could not at first make out her age or her station, but as she drew nearer I thought that she was old and poor.
"Whither go you, dame?" I asked as she came up.
"And what is that to you, young master?"
By this time I was able to see that she was bent, and that her clothes were those of one of low degree. I knew by the way she spoke that she was toothless, for her words were not clearly spoken.
"It may be much to me, dame," I replied, "but whether it be or no, I would warn you against going to the house yonder, for the dogs be let loose of a night, and they would make short work of you."
She mumbled some words which I could not understand; then looking up at me, she said, "And who may you be, young master?"
"I am Master Rashcliffe's son," I replied.
At this she gave a start, and scanned me more eagerly than before.
"Ay, ay, I should a' known," I heard her mumble, "I should a' known, for did not Katharine tell me?"
At this I was all ears again, and all eyes too for that matter, for evidently she knew something of the woman who was even then at the house talking with my father.
"Dogs or no dogs, I must e'en go," she said presently.
"Why? is your business of import?" I asked.
"Ay, or I would not have come all the way from St. Paul's Cross to Epping. For that matter I should never have got here did not a man coming hither give me a lift on his cart. But, young master, tell me. Hath a woman come to your father's house this day?"
"What kind of a woman?" I asked.
"A woman who hath forty-five years, but carries them lightly," she replied; "a woman who hath not the attire of a woman of quality, and yet speaketh as if she were; a woman who years ago lived at Rashcliffe Manor."
"And if such a woman hath been there?" I said.
"Then must I go thither."
"But if she hath been there, and is gone?"
"Then lack-a-day, I know not; ay, but even then I must know what she hath told Master Rashcliffe."
"Come with me," I said; "I will take you to the house."
"But is she there?" she asked eagerly.
"Ay, she is there," I replied.
"Then let us go quickly," and although she still stooped low, she walked by my side at a good speed.
A little later I led her into my father's hall, wondering at the meaning of what was happening, but little dreaming of what lay before me.
CHAPTER III
THE KING'S MARRIAGE CONTRACT
Bidding the woman be seated, and going straight to the room we called the library, I knocked at the door.
"Who is there?" asked my father.
"It is I, Roland."
My father opened the door, and looked at me questioningly. I saw that the woman Katharine Harcomb was standing by the chair on which she had sat during the time I had been in the room; but the hard defiant look in her eyes had gone. Rather I thought I saw fear, almost amounting to terror in them. Evidently my father had been speaking about matters which moved her mightily. She no longer bore the expression of one who would make her own terms, but rather as one who lived under the shadow of a great fear.
"You are back soon Roland," said my father, "it is not an hour since you left us."
"Nay," I replied, "but I met an old woman from St. Paul's Cross who was coming hither, who declared she must see Katharine Harcomb."
The woman gave a start as I spoke.
"Where is she?" she cried, "let me see her without delay."
"Tarry a little," said my father; "tell me more of this, Roland."
So without more ado I told him of my meeting with the dame, and of what had passed between us.
"I would speak to her, I would speak to her alone!" cried Katharine Harcomb, like one bereft of her senses, and she made for the doorway as if to pass me. But my father closed the door quickly and seemed to be deep in thought. A moment later I saw that he had made up his mind.
"Have any of the kitchen wenches seen her?" he asked.
"Nay," I replied. "I myself opened the door, and she is waiting in the hall."
"Then do you bring her here, Roland, and afterward do you leave us again."
I