Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-06-21
CHAPTER, III.
There's no want of meat, sir.-Massi

IHcfe Ho Waut Oh IHeSft, Slr-MaSSlnger
barbara of Ollerton awaited her lover with
| all a woman's expectancy on that morning
! when he set out to win his pardon of the
| chancellor and to seek, if it might be. the
security Of her estate. From her window
In my lord of Taunton's house, which lieth
but stones throw from the village of
Charing, she watched the busy people pass
ing the gallants upon horseback the Draw
ling apprentices, the sober merchants, the
multitude of priests, the women upon their
pillions-all that merry scene which spoke
of London's wealth and London's gayeties.
A winning figure in her gown of violet,
with sable furs about her pretty neck, and
a jewel which found coronal of gold in
her abundant hair, none the less her pref
tiness could not cloak anxiety nor Danish
from her wistful eyes the story of that hour
AS the day waxed older and Roy did not
come to her, and still she found new ex-
cuses for him, the shadow which had doomed
over her since she quilted Ollerton became
a cloud, of deep foreboding an omen which
no courage might turn.
Now, there was none in my lords house
hold save the servants and sleek steward
they called the Abbot Parkenham; and he
was a man who had been turned from the
| monasteries in Henry's day, and now had
become philosopher, suffering himself to eat
| and drink right well at his masters expense.
because he said, the Lord so wlled it,
A monstrous lean man. who shuff1ed In his
step, and had eyes deepest in his head,
and went star-gazing often-he was a dole
full pessimist indeed; and word Of COM
fort could he speak for my lady's consola-
ton.
THE house is open to you mistress. as my
lord commands. Here you Sail do well
in the flesh, if that be of any moment to
you. Were 1 of the world l would say that
the wines are of France and the table well
kept. But care for none of these things,
nor would 1 concern myself with earthly
cub otto ACc,, div nt,i
as the sparks which fly upward-a little
! while in brightness and then but ashes!'
Now, my Lady Barbaras laughter
swered this very doeful fellow with a
philosophy very strange to him.
These things may be nothing to you,
Abbot she said, but am no spark which
flieth upward. nor will seek the heavens
when those dear to me still the chill
dren of the earth. Is it aught to me that
the wines are of France and the table we'll
kept when he that 1 love will imperil his
life for the sake of that affection he bears
to me? Nay, all my heaven is at the pal
ace this hour What philosophy can speak
for young girls heart? Indeed, you show
me a withered parchment while 1 would cry
for roses to wear them on my heart until
love shall pluck them thence again"
She spoke with a courage which surprised
him, for her. dolorous always. could but
shake his head upon this madness Of her
love.
NAY" he said, where shall one pluck
roses in the winter of the year? You speak
of things but little known to me- daughter.
If your husband, indeed, be gone to the
palace to seek favor, ! wonder not at
your impat thence l will not counsel hope,
for what right have 1? So the gods jest
with US. We live in dangerous times, when
he who prayed yesterday shall himself
be prayed for tomorrow.
He went on, in ghostly word, to tell her
Of the times; how that a spirit of unrest
was abroad in the city, men beginning to
question each other for the faiths sake.
and man speaking freely OF that which
was in his heart.
| You, that are of the heretics-what seek
you in London, my child? For myself. I
care for none of these things; l am not of
the world. If the heavens give me many
gods, what are those of the priests to me!
But you are young, your story is known,
you will not pass without the question. For
that, perchance, your husband fingers still
at the palace. l speak of what may be-
fall. You were wiser to leave the city, my
lady. now, when the gate is open!''
My lady, who stood at the window while
he spoke joyfully clapped her hands for
answer and ran swiftly from the room.
1.-The gate, indeed is open,' she cried,
| "but it is my dear husband who rides in"
1t was true word, for Roy of Calverton,
| as she said had then returned from the
palace. Accompanied by many Of those who
had followed him from Sherwood forest
Meagre. the dwarf. and Rene. the page:
John. the hermit. and one they called the
knight Of the Silver Bow, monks become
monks-with these about him and their own
warm words of welcome in his ear. the out
law crossed the threshold and there heard
the better greeting.
Roy. dearest, 1t is thou! Nay, hadst thou
delayed. I had died for very cruelty of
waiting! Tell me It's well with thee. dear
husband.
She lifted child's face to his. and while
he took her in his arms he made haste to
satisfy her curiosity.
Thrice well, beloved! My tidings are of
| the best! Here Is a chancellor so curious
| that he must run to the queen like chick
| en- to hen! Could aught befall with bet
ter promise? Queen Mary honored the
| fathers name; she may yet receive the
| son. Let the next hour bring the summons;
| 1t shall not surprise me, sweet, for what
miracle mira, is left in life now. that thou art
| this and other talk Of her content, with
| woman's questions upon the palace. and the
| dresses of the serving women and the bear
| Ing OF the gallants, with hundred prom
| and Of that which they would do when they
| were come home again. Roy led her into
| the house and began. both for her pleas
| ure and the abbot's, to speak more particu-
| larly Of his welcome at st. James.
"A shrewd man, my Lord Gardiner, vet
| little acquainted with honesty. Plain speech
| affrights him. He is ever at war with the
| word, asking how far does this man lie;
| with that deceit shall I answer him.?
played merry stan and down he went az
my pumpkin! Twas all fence Of speech,
1 dear heart, SO that when I engaged he
covered more closely. But won him in the
| end. for have left him curious and when
he has gotten the better of his surprise to
| find one that speaks the truth, he will come
to Vs.
God grant it!" she said earnestly. God
grant It, dear sRoyi There Is no music for
my ears like this report you bear to me. Oh,