Sir Hugh said no more; he stepped to a concealed pannel beside the huge chimney-piece, and drawing it aside, ushered his guest into a small closet-like apartment, and then carefully closed the pannel again. A narrow winding staircase ascended from this small room into the chamber above, and which was only known or used by Sir Hugh himself, together with Martin and the priest, who occasionally visited at the Hall.
After entering, Sir Hugh signed to his guest to ascend the staircase.
"Thou wilt find every accommodation here in this chamber," he said, "and refreshment shall be served to thee by one I can trust. Father Eustace is at present absent from Clopton, but to-morrow I expect he will return."
"I would confer with him without delay," said Parry, "so soon as he returns."
"Be it so," said Sir Hugh, retiring from the apartment, and descending the stairs; seeming, as he did so, by his manner, not sorry to withdraw from the companionship of his new guest.
As soon as he had descended into the small apartment we have before described, he paused for a few moments, and then unlocked and opened a low postern door, which admitted into the garden, and, guided by the voices of his daughter and her party in the distance, immediately sought them.
It was by no means uncommon for the Catholics, during this reign, to hold secret intercourse with each other after the fashion we have just described, going from house to house with the utmost care; the more violent and remorseless making it their practice to seek refuge oft-times amongst the quieter gentry, and, under cover of their respectability, carrying on their designs with greater security.
In pursuance of such custom, Sir Hugh's new visitor had now sought shelter at Clopton. He had, on that same evening, arrived at Stratford in company with others, and immediately on dismounting from his horse, had walked across the meadows, entered the grounds, and being well acquainted with the localities, introduced himself into the house without being seen by any one.
When Sir Hugh joined his daughter and her party, there was a something of anxiety upon his brow which was not usual with him. But so deeply interested were Charlotte and Walter Arderne with the conversation of their new formed acquaintance, that they observed it not. The quick eye, however, of the shrewd Martin (who so well knew his old master's habits) saw at a glance that something had puddled the clear spirit of the knight; and advancing towards him, they walked apart and held converse together.
"Is there ill news toward?" said Martin. "Something I perceive hath disturbed you, and broken in upon your slumbers."
"I have had a visitor, Martin," said Sir Hugh; "one with whom I had long closed the accounts of acquaintanceship as a dangerous companion."
"Know I the man?" inquired Martin.
"Like myself you did so," returned Sir Hugh; "but evil courses drove him from the country some years back. You remember Gilbert Parry?"
"What," said Martin, "he who was condemned to death as a traitor some five years ago, and to whom the Queen graciously granted a free pardon?"
"The same. He hath been with me just now."
"He was ever a restless dangerous knave," said Martin; "his visit might well have been spared. I trust it was a short one."
"Nay," said Sir Hugh, "he hath claimed the hospitality of Clopton on matters of moment connected with holy mother Church, and hath shewn me letters from the Nuncio Campeggio, and from Ragazoni at Paris."
"He comes from abroad, then, I dare be sworn," said Martin, "and on no good errand depend on't, and he makes Clopton his place of residence on his first arrival, in order to be in security whilst he spies into the localities, and sounds his instruments; ah, and by my fay, 'tis a crafty and a dangerous companion, whose designs may get us into trouble. But an I dive not into his contrivances I would I might never taste hippocras again."
"I would have thee do so, Martin, if it be possible," said Sir Hugh, "for I like not such guests; albeit, their visits are sanctioned and enjoined by the mighty in our Church. Nay, it was but last week I had a visit from Ralph Somerville, of Warwick, who held me in dangerous converse a whole hour, upon the necessity of smiting all heretics and persecutors. His discourses on religious matters shewed a distempered brain. Troth, I was glad to be rid of him."
"'Tis strange," said Martin, "to behold the spirit which everywhere actuates those who profess more religion than their neighbours, both Protestants and Catholics. By my faith, men will dispute upon the subject, cut a throat for religion, indite most learned matter appertaining—anything but live for it."
"'Tis even so, Martin," said Sir Hugh with a sigh, "and therefore doth it behove us, and all those who are not of this bigoted and intolerant spirit, to guard our hearths from the danger of such association. A presentiment of evil is upon my mind since this man's coming, which I cannot shake off. Be it thy business to look to his wants this evening. To-morrow Father Eustace returns, and we shall then know more about his designs."
"Ah, that Eustace!" muttered Martin to himself. "Hath he ever seen this man?" he inquired aloud.
"I think not," said Sir Hugh; "they have never met to my knowledge."
"Enough," said Martin; "leave him to me. Now break we off, and let us join our party. See where the lady Charlotte leads her two attendant swains toward the house yonder. This new-found friend, Sir Hugh," continued Martin, "this youth, whose merits seem so far beyond his fortunes, is he likely to remain long at Clopton?"
"He tarries here to-night, Martin," said Sir Hugh, "and shall be ever welcome. We are deeply his debtor."
"Humph," said Martin significantly, "I supposed as much, and I suppose it must even be so—but——"
CHAPTER VII.
PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS.
England, up to the period of Elizabeth's reign, at which our story has now arrived, had been blessed in the enjoyment of the most absolute security.
The scene, however, was now beginning to change, and multiplied dangers to threaten the maiden Queen from various quarters.
Scotland and its affairs gave Elizabeth continued uneasiness, and every new revolution amongst the wild and turbulent nobles of that rude land caused her fresh anxiety, because that country alone being not separated from England by sea, and bordering on all the Catholic and malcontent countries, afforded her enemies an easy mode of annoying her.
Nothing could be more romantic, wild, and extravagant than the stories which those of the English who had penetrated far north brought back of the state of the nation, and the manners and disposition of the inhabitants; and which, if they were to be believed, described the chieftains in the hill countries as living amidst their wild and savage retainers in a singular style of feudal grandeur and semi-barbarism.
Nay, such was, in reality, the nature of the rude Highlanders in the remoter districts of Scotland, that, for an Englishman to attempt to penetrate into their fastnesses, would have been attended with the same difficulty and danger as at the present time a journey into the centre of Africa is exposed to. So that to the generality of the English nation the interior of Scotland was a terra incognita; whilst the dark and ominous rumours continually floating about, pictured the very court itself of that distracted country in a most strange and unnatural light. Murders, conspiracies, rebellions, and every sort of consequence upon misrule and headstrong passion, seemed the every-day occurrence there.
In Ireland, too, (where the inhabitants were equally wild, reckless, and opposite to England,)