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DAME ELINOR'S ATONEMENT

It was a fair spring evening, with the buds burning into leaves and the birds singing their merriest lays as Gilbert Sheldon Jeft "!k ark and trudged southward 'j-'nc years before he had left his home in the shadow oi Mostyn Castle to try his fortune in the Low Countries Fate had not been kind to him, and he was tomm* back as poor as he had gone lorth For all that Ins heart utn.s morrv as he tramped along. Should he not again see his old mother and Lord Mostyn, Ins old master '' The latter nutrhi inako a hannle'ss icst concerning the wealth he had gone to win, and won not but he would gi\e him a Welcome none the less sincere of that, and his mother— how glad she would be to s<ec lum again ' He t lamped onward still singing, but after a time his song ceased The face of the country was changed in some indescribable way Beside that gro\e ot lrrs had stood the fai in-house of one John Potilton whose daughters mauiage to a rotund butchei had perhaps been the cause of }oung Sheldon's (it of wandering But no trace of the farm-house was to be seen The ground that had been occupied by two or three cottages was also bare, and Gilbert walked on in bewilderment till he cani'e to a place where four ioads met On that spot was a gibbet but lately elected, and Gilbeit recoiled as the ill-omened and gruesome obiect met his sight lie stood ea/mg at it so intently that the sound of approaching footsteps failed to rouse him from the won-* de-rment into which he had fallen, and the newtomei, a slight wuy man of pet haps fifty years of age, had time to recognise him belote Gilbert movod his glaiuc to lrm ' Ila, Master Culcheth ' How lares the woildwitli thee ? ' Master Culcheth shook his bend and pointed to the gibbet ' Is theie need to ask the question, think you, Gilbert Sheldon ? ' ' Aye, is there, of a truth. Since I left the neighborhood I ha\e heard naught of what went on in it 'Then thou wert blessed of a surety Hast thou not heard ol the changes that are made in England ' 1 Marry, and so 1 haAe ' I'\e heard it said that one Thomas Cromwell has made the king Pope in England But what of that 7 ' 1 We ha\e Cromwell to thank for all,' Cuk-hcfh made answer in bittei tones, ' for the plundering of the monasteries, for the reduction of the Sacraments, lor the rum oi our country, lor the death oi FisJier and More ' ' Hut what hast ah' this, good Master Cukheih, to do with Mostyn "> ' Gilbeil asked ' The tolk of Most\n would not change the faith Christ left them at a layman's bidding een though the layman be King of EnglafTn\' ' Nay, i hey would not and for thai h<i\e Hhe suffered,' Master Cukhcth made answer ' The north was true to the old faith, and rose in arms when the monks were hounded from their abbeys, but fan wmiK and lying words disbanded the army of the noith, and then Cromwoll struck. The Abbots' of Whalle\, ol Woburn, and Saw ley went to the gallows, others died at Tyburn with the bia\e Percy Lady Bulmei was buinl at the .4akc and Lord Mostyn was hanged at his o\\ m castle gate ' 'Loid Mostyn hanged ' ' Gilbert gasped To him that was the worst of the tidings Master Cul'lieth nairated. ' Aye, hanged He was one of the fust of the noithern lords to rise vi arms ' ' Well ' ' 'Come to yonder 'hill top,' Master Culcheth said and Gilbert obeyed him From the summit ot the hill a large 4 tact of country was visible, and the returned wanderer ca\e a ciy r as he looked tound ,Mosty n ( 'astl^ that he last saw a strong and stately ediiice, was a pile < f blackened ruins 'It was Richard Car) 11 s work, 1 Masler Cnh lu-ii. explained after a pause 'He had command of a troop of hoise, and by his otdeis Mostyn Castle vas burned, and its lord and bis bra\est retainers left dead Can 11 came by stealth when no lear was in our hearts, and did carry out his master's ! rcacherous plan.' ' Were nil 1 il'od — all in the castle? ' the horrorstricken Gillcrt demanded ' Nay, not all \m I not still alive 9 Bui not •through the renecade Carvll's good-will I was left for dead nist outside the castle but albeit mv wound pro\ed a bad one, I saw Richard Caryll and his men ride off with those they had taken prisoners ' ' They took prisoners ? ' 'The priests that ministered to vs — laier they weif nut to death because they would not admit the kine: to be the head of the Church— the scullions and kitchen

wenches, tather Finchey was placed among the others with hi* hands bound. 1 saw Caryll's ruffians strike him with then: spears as they matched away. At the foot of the lull on winch the castle was built Caryll paused and looked back I .saw lu.s outstretched hand, and heard his jeering laughter. ' And young Piers Mostyn ? ' 'He escaped by (lods mace Lady Mostyn had taken him with hei to v.sit hci dying motjhci ' ' Where may the young lord be ' Master Cukhcth shook his head. -1 know not Lady MosUn's kindred were driven Irom their home later, and I heaid that she died <>i grifl If was said ,ils-n ih.it ihe child was earned o\cr seas b> a faithful ser\ant to he Inought up in France He may come back,' (iilbert said. ' And prithee 1o what "> A mined house and an attainted name Why, Caryll earned away the gold and siher that Lady Mostyn brought as dowry to her husband \ye, and her jewels too' Then- was silence for a tune. The former serwtor of the Alosiyns was inwardly repeating a prayer for the soul, of hi* dead master and mistress, whilst tullieit Sheldon was meditating on the news he had listened l o Suddenly lie asked • ' Know si thou aught of my mother ' ' 'I hy mothei '' Anne Sheldon sleeps in the old rAuryms giound She saw not the tilings I ha,\c spoken oi ' Master Cult hei h answered. ' Then I shall louiney no further this way,' Gilbert Sheldon said slowly ' I'll c'en ha.stc back to York ' 1 And then ■' ' Master Cultheth inquired ' Whei esoe'er foitune leads me ' 1 Lea\e this land, then lad.it is accursed, j and Gilbert smiled at the elder man's \ehemence. ' And thou "' 'he asked ' Why bidest thou heie ? ' ' Meiause mv old mother lues, and I may not go ' 1 Well, fare ye well, Master Cukhelh,' Gilbert said and turned away. It was a spimg morning many \eais after that on wlmh Gilbert S'heldon had hoard of the religious changes in England llemy '1 udoi and his son were both dead, and Mary Tudor ieigned as Queen of a tounliy ieconci!ed to Rome The old ecclesiastical ordei had been H'stoied, and in north and south, in east and west, nun prated as their fathers had prayed, and Master Culcheth looked but little older for all Utc >'c.us that haa gone by as he watched two women, one young and fair, one od and feeble, take the road that led to the mined castle ol Mostyn '1 hey had arrived at the countiy inn thiee days before, and though Us masterhad put many inquiries to both, he had learned but little of them. As they appioachcd him, Master Culeheth gave them a < our Icons good-day, and the younger showed a willingness to enter into conversation with him Master Culcheth was nothing loth and was soon giwng her and her companion the benefit oi all the information concei miiL 1 the district which he possessed 1 Hast tnou chanced to meet Dame E'inor 9 ' he asked The >oungei woman shook her head, and answered In a question Who may Dame Eluuu be '' ' ' That I know not We only know her by that name. She i aim 1 heie years since, and has gncn her time, ad\ite, and mone\ fun to all,' Master Culcheth said ' Is she \ unrig? ' his questioner asked 1 Nay , but she carries herself well She is skilled as am leer h In the e\il days now passed away she was e\er ready to sacrifice herself and her own c omfoi t len the iaith of old.' ' Hast the woman any kinsfolk 7 ' the joung stranger asked. ' None She lues unattended and lonely, though she is a lady without doubt, and of abundant 'mean 1 -,' Mastei Cuitheth said, and after a few more words, Doth women lesumed then walk They had gone but a short distance when the \oungei saw a woman sealed on a large stone Mind the grass .that grew on a little hillock Her face was tinned fiom them and she woie a dark grey cloak with the hood drawn over her head 'It is Dame Elinor, of whom we ha\e heard, I doubt not ' the young woman said to her companion, Mid she laid her hand on her aim ' Look, Margery, I feel suite that is Dame Elinor ' The elder woman looked as directed, but wit' out much lhteie^t' ' Aye, it may be,' she said indifferently 1 T should like to speak to her Margery ' 'Doso if thou wilt, mistress mine, and T wait, thy return here My old limbs will be glad of the rest ' The speaker looked around her till she espied the i'-"n\ of a fallen tree, and on it she seated hrrself while the younger woman crossed to where Dame Elinor

sat engaged with a coarse kind of knitting. She looked up at the stranger's approach and smiled. It was wonderful how tine smile softened an otherwise set and stern face. In a few minutes the two were conversing freely. ' Thou hast a strangely familiar look to me, young mistresb,' Dame Elinor said. ' May I inquire your name ? ' The stranger hesitated an instant ere she replied 1 My name is Mostyn— Alice Mostyn.' Dame Elinor raised her hands. ' Hut the child of the late lord was a boy, she said, ' at least I have heard so.' 4 I am that hoy's wile,' Alice Mostyn replied with a smile and a blush. • We were wed in Rheimt, two moons ago, Piers Mostyn and I.' ' Thank God ! 1 have waited long for this.' Alice looked at her in amazement, and Dame i^hnor said : 1 You will have heard of the last Lord Mostyn's death ? ' Alice inclined her head. ' It was an evil deed, and it brought its own punishment. But where is thy husband ? ' ' In London. There are matters concerning which he had occasion to bee the Queen, and 1 and my old nurse journeyed thither We are unused to Courts. As ;,oon as may dc— when Piers hath Queen Mary's permission to resume his tit/le — he will join me.' ' Aye, those were evil days,' Dame Hlinor moittered, more to herself than her cotrrpamon, • and Richard Caryll suffered for his crimes.' ' Richard Caryll ? ' 'My husband I lei— alas that I should tell it— gave up his belief at Cromwell's bidding, and aided in the nwdering of monks and plundering of monasteries. He it was who burned the house of thy husband's race and — biut why tell of those horrors. Suffice to say that a grievous illness fell on him after his acts here, and he died in terrible agony 1 believe he repented, for in his last moments he begged me to make atonement to the heir of Mostjn ' Yes ? ' ' But what could J do 7 My husband's brother succeeded to his estates, aii'd I was powerless to an extent I ha\e indeed the Mostyn jewels and some gold in my care. When my husband was buried I fled with them and settled here, hoping that the person for wihom J held them might one day come this way. I was careful to keep my name a secret for several reasons.' ' And your Kindred ? ' Alice Mostyn asked. ' I have none. My mother died long since. She feared I should be won o^er to adopt my husband's opinions, and she did me a great wrong, but it was in kindness She sent my child across the sea that her faith mfght not be tampered with, and before she could inform me of her whereabouts she died.' ' And you never heard aught of your child ' ? ' Alice inquired m a sympathetic tone. ' Never. Margery Fenton, my mother's own maid, •went with her.' ' Margery Fenton ' She is here, she is my nurse, and I was called by her name.' In a few minutes all needful explanations were gu en Margery Fenton had given her solemn promise to keep chaige of her mistress's giandchild till she recened further notice fiom hei Margery was well supplied with moncv and she did not hear of hn mistress s death till long after the event Then she wrote to Oame Elinor, and sent her note by a trusty messenger, but the latter came back to France with the tidings of Richard Caiyll's death and of his wife's disappearance. Margery had grown fond of her charge, and decided to do nothing further in the matter, and Alice never Knew her parents' name P'ers MosUn took possession of his home, and m part restored it, and a large family of boys and 'j;irls often listened to their granddame's story of her own atonement — ' Catholic Fireside.'

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19040602.2.57

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXII, Issue 22, 2 June 1904, Page 24

Word Count
2,258

DAME ELINOR'S ATONEMENT New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXII, Issue 22, 2 June 1904, Page 24

DAME ELINOR'S ATONEMENT New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXII, Issue 22, 2 June 1904, Page 24

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