The Heiress of Haddon

CHAPTER V.

A VISIT TO. NOTTINGHAM.

One sole desire, one passion now remains,
To keep life's fever still within his veins.
Vengeance, dire vengeance, on the wretch who cast
On him and all he had the ruinous blast.

-MOORE.

T was upon the third day after the occurrences narrated in the last chapter had taken place, that a lonely traveller might have been seen urging his way across the fields just outside the town of Nottingham. The gates closed at dusk : it was now past sunset, and he hastened forward to gain admittance.

It was the man known at Haddon by the name of Nathan Grene, the locksmith, whose actions had ever been at variance with his character, and whose nature had always seemed to have been unequally yoked with the common occupation of a smith.

Nathan, in fact, was no true smith. He was a brother-in-law of Sir Roland Bury, and having taken up the practice of astrology and alchemy, this fact had been seized upon by his foes, and he had been obliged to fly in disguise to save himself from one of those persecutions which were so readily and frequently levelled against the followers of the "black arts."

In the character of a locksmith he had lived for some months in an uneasy state of security at Haddon. The lack of comfort which he was compelled to experience in his new position being compensated for in some small degree by the kind attentions he received at the hands of the widow Durden, which began directly upon his arrival, and which soon rapidly ripened into a sincere regard for each other, and from that eventually progressed into love.

Being well born, Nathan Grene-or rather Edmund Wynne, for such was his proper name-had never taken kindly to the conditions imposed upon him by the disguise he had chosen to assume. He had never sought for work, and had done as little of it as he possibly could, and he had held aloof from the people around him, treating them with a supercillious indifference which they were not slow to resent. Under such conditions it was by no means surprising that he was decidedly unpopular in the neighbourhood, and the dislike to him was heightened by the intimacy which grew up between himself and the woman who was regarded as a witch.

It was for his vigorous defence of Mary Durden that he had been placed in the stocks. His whole spirit revolted from such a degradation; he had pleaded and had raged, but all in vain, and even Dorothy's appeal on his behalf had failed to save him from the bitter humiliation.

The ordeal, again, had been a very trying scene for him, and his annoyance was more than doubled when he saw how his beloved was being persecuted by her neighbours and oppressed by the baron. As she escaped through the gateway he made up his mind to strike Sir George down, but in spite of his resistance he was carried out beyond the limits of the Hall in the wild rush that took place when the first moment of surprise and terror had passed away.

All night long he lay upon the floor of his little smithy pondering schemes of revenge, but when he ventured out on the following morning all his ideas were dispelled by the sight which met her gaze, for there was Mary Durden hanging from the branch of a tree at the foot of the slope which led up to the gateway of the Hall.

He rubbed his eyes in sheer astonishment and looked again, but the second view only confirmed the vision of the first. His worst fears were realised; his Mary was dead!

Mechanically he walked to the tree; there was a paper fastened to it upon which was some writing in the hand of the baron. He read it:

MARY DURDEN.

THE STORM AVAILED HER NAUGHT.

Impatiently he snatched it down, and tearing it into a hundred fragments, cast them down upon the ground, and slowly turning on his heel, he walked homewards utterly dejected and cast down, and with a bitter heart. The last tie which bound him to Haddon was now severed, and he longed to get away.

In melancholy silence he dug a grave in the little garden behind his lowly cottage, and then, with all the coolness which is lent by desperation, he proceeded again to where the body was hanging, and cut it down. He had brought another paper with him, and this he affixed in exactly the same place as the

one he had destroyed. It was laconical enough, for it had but one word, and that was

REVENGE!

He laid the body in the grave, and put some plants upon the top, and then, after watering them with the tears which copiously ran down his cheeks, he turned his back on Haddon, and started for Nottingham with few regrets, leaving behind him little enough to love, and much to be revenged.

Footsore and weary he hastened to the Chapel Bar, glad indeed to find himself so near the end of his journey; but before he had quite reached it he had the mortification to hear the sound of the closing bell, and when he arrived there the gates were shut.

"Ho, ho, there, porter!" he cried, and he violently kicked the iron post by way of emphasis to the call.

Aye, aye, there, steady now, thou't over late," replied the burly porter as he tantalisingly rattled the heavy keys in his hand.

in,

Yes, but only a minute," Edmund replied; "you can let me and you will.

Nay, master, not till next sunrise," he returned. Edmund groaned.

"But I cannot stay outside all night," he said. 'Come, open the gate, there's a good fellow."

"I were like to lose my position if I did," answered the other. "I cannot unless- and he significantly jingled

some coins in his pocket.

Unless what ?"

The gatekeeper thought Edmund Wynne uncommonly dull of comprehension, and with a little hesitation he suggested that it were surely worth a trifle if he did break through the rule.

'Here, here's a groat then," exclaimed the smith, bringing out his last coin as he saw the other moving away.

'Pooh, a sorry groat," said the keeper, "make it two, and then!"

"But I must get in to-night," expostulated Edmund, "I have urgent business with Sir Ronald Bury. It is important, it is a matter of the State."

At the mention of Sir Ronald's name the key was inserted in the lock, and by the time the sentence was completed the great gate was swung open, and the visitor found himself, to his great satisfaction, beyond the barrier.

"I was but jesting," humbly said the man as he re-locked the gate; "for you must well know that we are not allowed to take bribes, though where the harm of it would be, I confess I cannot see.

Having succeeded in passing the barrier, Edmund did not stay to argue the question with the gatekeeper. He turned his steps towards the Castle, and in a very few minutes found himself at its embattled entrance.

The gates, of course, were fastened, but the bell-rope was hanging down, so seizing hold of that he gave it a vigorous pull.

Halloa, my hearty, what's amiss ?" asked a stentorian voice. 66 "That's the third summons to-night."

"I want to see the constable of the Castle," replied the traveller.

'Well thou hadst better hie thee to London, and happen, if you're lucky, you may find him there."

Sir Ronald, at London!" exclaimed Edmund, in blank dismay.

Sir Ronald," repeated the other, " no, the Earl of Rutland." "But Sir Ronald Bury ?"

'He's the deputy-constable."

"Well, I would see him. Is he here ? "

'Yes, he is here," responded a gruff voice, "I am Sir Ronald, who art thou? What dost thou require at this time o' night ?"

"I want to see thee privately, upon a matter of much importance," answered the pseudo smith, somewhat annoyed not to be recognised by his brother-in-law.

"See if he has any weapons on him, Wilton," said the knight, "and let him enter if there is no suspicion of foul play. It will go badly with him though, I trow, has he ventured here on no sufficient reason."

Wilton approached him to obey his master's commands, but Edmund waved him back by an imperious gesture of the arm. Nay, cousin Ronald," he exclaimed in high dudgeon. is beyond a joke to take matters so far. Ellice might well expect that a little kinder treatment would have been extended to her brother at the hands of her husband."

Eh, what! Are you Edmund; risen from the grave?" asked the knight in high surprise.

"I am Edmund sure enough," was the reply, "but I have not risen from the grave. I am not astrologer enough for that. This is a sorry welcome and no mistake.'

"Faith man, how could I tell it were thee? We thought

thee dead twelve months agone. Come in man, come in; there's no occasion for thee to tarry there now. Let him in Wilton, and be sure the gates are well fastened to-night. Robert and Lucy will be right glad to see you again," he said, "especially little Robert, who has never forgotten those littleiron toys that you made for him two years ago."

Edmund Wynne needed no second invitation. He hurried through the open portals and the two walked up together towards the inhabited part of the building.

"This is indeed a strange surprise," began Sir Ronald, as soon as they were out of danger of being overheard. "We felt sure that thou wast dead and have often thought of thee. Where hast thou been?"

"Hiding in the country. I have been a village smith." "A smith," cried the knight, "then that fancy of yours for working with metals has stood thee in good stead for once." "It has indeed, but it was a base use withal."

"Thou hast been well hidden, for her Majesty's servants have scoured the country to discover your whereabouts." I have been at Haddon in the Peak," he replied.

"Haddon phew! Do you know that arrogant knight, Sir George Vernon ?

Do I know him ?" echoed Edmund. "Would to heaven I had never cast my eyes upon him."

"Ha, he has stung thee too, I perceive," exclaimed Sir Ronald; "I hate him like poison. It should go ill with him did I ever have the power. I hear he is a Papist; cannot we prove aught against him on that score ?" and the excited knight wistfully regarded his companion's face, waiting for a favourable reply.

"I should like some supper first," drily suggested the toilworn traveller, "and then," he added, "I may satisfy your eagerness to the fullest extent. I have a score of my own against him to clear off yet, and what is more to the point, Roland, I have the power. It was for that I came to visit you.' "Ha!" ejaculated the knight expectantly. "He can satisfy my craving to the fullest extent," he mused. This is fortunate."

"Yes," continued Edmund, "we shall have him cited to London; he is surely within our power. He hath grievously broken the law, and will have to answer to the charge of murder and treason; and if we cannot compass his ruin, then, between us, I have other ways, of which no man knows.' 66 That led thee into trouble aforetime. Here is Lettice coming down the steps."

'Hush," said Sir Ronald.

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