Oddsfish! by Robert Hugh Benson (i am malala young readers edition TXT) 📕

I cannot, for my horse is lame."

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My Cousin Tom received the priest in a surprising medley of emotions which he exhibited one by one to me who knew him so well. He was at first plainly terrified at receiving a priest and a Jesuit; but, presently recovered himself a little and strove to remember that here was one of God's priests who would bring a blessing on the house--(and said so); finally all else was swallowed up in pleasure, or very nearly, when I took occasion on Mr. Hamerton's going upstairs to pull off his boots, to tell him that I had seen this priest very intimate with His Royal Highness the Duke of York; and that he had been a near friend of Mr. Bedingfeld, the Duke's confessor.

My Cousin Dorothy received him with the reverence that pious maids can shew so easily towards a priest. She had his chamber ready for him in ten minutes; with fresh water in the basin and flowers upon the table: she even set out for his entertainment three or four books of devotion by his bedside. And all the time at supper she never ceased to give him attention, drawing the men's eyes to his plate and cup continually.

Mr. Hamerton was a very quiet gentleman, wonderfully at his ease at once, and never losing his discretion; he talked generally and pleasantly at supper, of his road to Hare Street, and told us an edifying story or two of Catholics at whose houses he had lain on his way from Lincolnshire. These Jesuits are wonderful folk: he seemed to know the country all over, and where were the safer districts and where the dangerous. I have no doubt he could have given me an excellent road-map with instructions that would take me safe from London to Edinburgh, if I had wished it.

"And have you never been troubled with highwaymen?" asked my Cousin Tom.

"No, Mr. Jermyn," said the priest, "except once, and that was a Catholic robber. I thought he was by the start he gave when he saw my crucifix as he was searching me; and taxed him with it. So the end was, he returned me my valuables, and took a little sermon from my lips instead."

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When supper was over, and Dorothy had gone upstairs to make all ready for mass on the next morning, Mr. Hamerton, at our questioning, began to tell us a little of the state of politics and what he thought would happen; and every word that he said came true.

"His Grace of Monmouth will be our trouble," he said. "The King adores him; and he hath so far prevailed with His Majesty as to get the Duke of York sent twice to Scotland. I think few folk understand what feeling there is in the country for the Protestant Duke. It was through my Lord Shaftesbury, who is behind him, that His Royal Highness was actually sent away, for Monmouth could do nothing without him; and I have no kind of doubt that he has further schemes in his mind too."

(This was all fulfilled a couple of months later, as I remembered when the time came, by my Lord Shaftesbury's actually presenting James' name as that of a recusant, before the grand jury of Middlesex; but the judges dismissed the jury immediately.)

"And you think, father," asked my Cousin Tom very solemnly, "that these seditions will lead to trouble?"

"I have no doubt of it at all," said he. "The country--especially London--is full of disaffection. Their demonstration last year did a deal to stir it up. The Duke of York is back now, against my advice; but I have no doubt he will have to go on his travels again. Were His majesty to die now--_(quod Deus avertat!)_--I do not know how we should stand."

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Mr. Hamerton took occasion to ask me that night, when we were alone for a minute or two, what I was doing in the country.

"I remember you perfectly now," said he. "Father Whitbread spoke to me of you, besides."

I told him that I had nothing to do in town; and with His Majesty's consent was lying hid for a little, in order that what little was known of me might be forgotten again.

"Well; I suppose you are wise," he said, "and that you will be able to do more hereafter. But the time will come presently when we shall all be needed."

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he could read cipher, and to shew him my paper--reminded of it, by his talk of disaffection; but my Cousin Tom came back at that moment; and I put it off; and I presently forgot it again.

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The memory of the mass that we heard next morning will never leave me; for it was the first time that I had heard it in the house.

We used the long attic, for fear of disturbance, and had a man posted beneath--for it was still death for a priest to say mass in England. All the servants that were Catholics were there; and all, I think, went to the sacraments. Mr. Hamerton heard confessions before the mass began.

The north end of the attic had been prepared by Dolly and her maid; and looked very pretty and fine. A couple of men had carried up a great low press, that had the instruments of the Passion painted upon its panels; and this served for an altar. Behind it Dolly had put up a hanging from downstairs, that was of Abraham offering Isaac, and had set upon the altar a pair of silver candlesticks from the parlour, and a little standing crucifix, with jugs of country flowers between the candlesticks and the cross. She had laid too, as a foot-pace, a Turkey rug that came too from the parlour; and had put a little table to serve as a credence. Mr. Hamerton had with him little altar-vessels made for travelling, with a cup that unscrewed from the stem, and every other necessary except what he asked us to provide.

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It is the experience of everyone, I think, that mass differs from mass, as a star (in the apostle's words) differs from another star in glory--I do not mean in its essential effects, for that is the same always, but in the devotion which it arouses in those that hear it. This mass then seemed to me like scarcely any other that I had ever heard, except perhaps that at which I received my first communion in the country church in France. Mr. Hamerton said it with great deliberation and recollection; and, as my Cousin Tom served him, as a host should, I was not distracted by anything. My Cousin Dolly and I kneeled side by side in front, and again, side by side, to receive Holy Communion.

I was in a kind of ecstasy of delight, and not, I think unworthily; for, though much of my delight came from being there with my cousin, and receiving our Lord's Body with her, I do not think that is any dishonour to God whom we must love first of all, to find a great joy in loving Him in the company of those we love purely and uprightly. So at least it seems to me.

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Mr. Hamerton told us he must be riding very early; and not much after seven o'clock we stood at the gate to bid him farewell. I made my man James go with him so far as Ware to set him on his road, though the priest begged me not to trouble myself.

When I came back to the house I was in a torment of indecision as to whether this would not be the best occasion I could ever find of telling my Cousin Dorothy all that was in my heart in her regard; and I even went into the Great Chamber after her, still undecided. But her manner prevented me; for I thought I saw in her something of a return of that same shyness which she had shewed to me when I had come last time back to Hare Street; and I went out again without saying one word except of the priest's visit and of what a good man he seemed.

Even then, I think, if I had spoken, matters might have taken a very different course; but, whether through God's appointment or my own diffidence, this was not to be; and again I said nothing to her.


CHAPTER IV

Our next adventure, not unlike the last exteriorly, was very different from it interiorly; and led to very strange results in the event. It came about in this way.

It was in May that Mr. Hamerton had come to us, for Easter that year fell in that month; and the weather after that, which had been very bitter in the winter, with so much snow as I never saw before, but clearer about Eastertime, fell very wet and stormy again in June.

It was on a Thursday evening, in the first week in June, that the bad weather set in with a violent storm of rain and a high wind. We sat in the Great Chamber after supper, and had some music as usual: and between the music we listened to the gusts of wind and the rattle of the rain, which made so great a noise that Dolly said that it was no use for her to go to bed yet, for that she would not sleep if she went. Her maid went to bed; and we three sat talking till nearly half-past ten o'clock, which is very late for the country where men rise at four o'clock.

The wind made such a noise that we heard nothing of the approach to the house; and the first that we knew of anyone's coming was a hammering at the door.

"Why, who is that;" said I, "that comes so late?"

I could see that my Cousin Tom did not like it, for his face shewed it--(I suppose it was the memory of that other time when the hammering came)--so I said nothing, but went myself to the outer door and unbolted it.

A fellow stood there in a great riding-cloak; but I could see he wore some kind of a livery beneath.

"Well," I said,