The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 6 April 1911, Page 603

The Storyteller

THE DAFFODIL LADY The daffodils were standing sentry fashion among the grass in the glades of Dane Court Park. Spring had come again; spring, with its fresh breezes and warm showers and bright sunshine, filling the air with the sweet incense of the fragrant wood violets and the joyous ' carolling of birds. Mistress Betty Franklin strolled in the park. She was .like a dainty daffodil herself; gowned in dark green velvet with a glimmer of gold where _ her overskirt fell apart revealing her underdress of satin. Her step was as light as the swaying of the flowers on their long stems, and to complete the resemblance her head was crowned with a mass of golden curls,beneath which her eye shone like bits of blue sky caught in a mist of sunshine. From time to time she looked around, as though expecting someone. Then she strolled, carelessly humming a song the while, in the direction of the beechwood where the violets lay hid in the shadow of the tall tree trunks. The moss lay thick underfoot like a green velvet carpet gemmed here and there with dewdrops that sparkled in the sunlight. Still the girl held on her way, trilling out her song in a birdlike voice, until she reached an open glade surrounded with trees as yet bare against the sky, though the buds were already bursting through their brown envelopes. Here she paused and seated herself upon a fallen tree. Then there emerged from the thicket a tall figure clad in tight-fitting garments of black velvet, with a short cloak lined with blue satin and an outstanding ruff. At his side dangled a long rapier, and on his head was a cap of velvet with a white plume. 'How now, Betty!' he said as he-approached her. Sho rose demurely and curtseyed. 'Good-morrow, Hugh'' then in a lower key, almost in a whisper, 'Hast seen Father Trevelyn?' He gave a hasty glance around before he replied, in the same tone Ay, sweetheart; to-night he will be with us at the court, and in the early morning, long before the lark has risen, will bless our marriage.' ' Hugh, I am sore afraid ' 'Afraid, dear heart! Art thou afraid ? Geoffrey Franklin's daughter?' ' Nay, Hugh, not for myself—but the priest. Thou knowest the new law, and the death is so terrible. It seems selfish to let him run the risk for our own happiness.' She covered her eyes. 'My dearest one, it is God's own ordinance. Some must be —some must die —and all must be shriven,' he said, almost lightly. 1 Ay, I know, Hugh.' Then, sinking her voice still lower and casting a furtive look around: ' Shall we have Mass?'

'Yes, dearest one.' Then, as if to change the current of her thoughts: ' See! I have brought you this necklace,' displaying as he spoke a string of pearls. ' Oh, Hugh, they are in truth too fine! Alas! that we should be wearing gems and seeking happiness while the Church is so sore oppressed.' She broke into a passion of sobs, it was but a year since her only brother had suffered imprisonment and torture and finally banishment for exercising the functions of his priesthood, and now that he had returned in defiance of the law, it was he and no other who would say the Mass and bless her marriage with Hugh Fisher that very night. Hugh passed his arm around the weeping girl and drew her head down to his own broad shoulder. ' Do not weep, sweetheart! I shall think that you are afraid to trust me. See,' he continued, as he clasped his bridal gift about her neck, 'my peerless Betty, they are like dewdrops on a daffodil! My Daffodil Lady, dost remember the day I first discovered thee? Thou wast a merry, care-free child, thy green velvet lap filled with lent lilies; and now thou art still more fair —though I would fain behold thine eyes, sweetheart.' ' Nay, Hugh, thou wilt think me but a silly wench, 7 she protested, as he led her gently from the little glade back along the path down which they had come. They had not noted the occasional rustle of a leaf or snapping of a twig as they stood together in the wood. Neither had they seen the outline of a man's slim figure clad in a hunting suit, who, with his dogs at his heels, had been a witness of their meeting. So Mistress Betty hath a lover,' he soliloquised ' and therefore she will have none of me. And yet I am personable enough—and I have riches enough— houses and lands enough— say nothing of the fat Grange that the Queen's Grace hath promised me if I can but catch the priest Trevelyn. "My Daffodil Lady!" oh! oh! Sir —my Daffodil Lady! Come, Point! Come, Arrow!' The dogs followed at his heels as he crashed through the undergrowth, laughing aloud, and impatient for the hunt. As he emerged from the wood on to the high road he laughed again' scornfully, as he thought how easily tho Grange would be his. But how about Betty? She would scarcely care to marry the man who had hunted her brother to death, and it might be her father, tooand Hugh Fisher. Master Fisher was already under suspicion, for he was related to the late Bishop of Rochester, who, had

lost his head in King Henry's reign, for upholding the Pope's authority. There was plenty of time to get the warrant. It would be best to surround the house and take the whole family in the act of hearing Mass. As for Mistress Betty, she would soon be a widow, for Hugh could be conveniently hanged. A sudden turn in a narrow path brought him face to * face with an old woman bent nearly double under a bundle *of sticks that she had been gathering. She looked at him keenly out of piercing black eyes that seemed to read his very soul: 'Plotting and planning!' She droned out the words in.a sort of refrain: 'planning and plotting Your bed is made and your trap is laid, Master Topham,' she crooned. ? 'What do you mean, woman?' he said savagely, and lifted his foot as though he would have spurned her. A glance that shot from her eye restrained him. ' Get out of my woods, else I will have you hanged for a vagabond or burned for a witch.' ' Think better of it now, Master Topham—'tis best to have the witch's good word —even though I am no witch, God save us!' she added, hastily crossing herself as she spoke. Topharaf paused. He needed a tool — well this one as another. 'Dost want to earn a golden guinea?' he asked her. 'For myself? Or that Master Topham may gain fifty?' she asked, shrewdly. ' A truce to thy jesting, woman! If thou wouldst do the Queen's Grace a service I will give thee a golden guinea.' She lay down the sticks slowly as if loth to part with the result of a morning's toil. ' Ay, if thou givest me the guinea now.' He laughed but flung her the coin carelessly he would not risk touching her. Lettice Wren was a wellknown character in the neighborhood. She lived in a little deserted hovel on the common and had the reputation of being a skilful fortune-teller. She was really successful in the use of herbs and simples which she gathered and prepared for the common people, who paid her with gifts of food and clothing. It was not often that a guinea came her way. She looked at it carefully and bit it. Topham laughed. 'Thou dost not trust me, Mistress Wren?' he queried. ' Nay, thou'rt v too close kin with the Evil One.' 'Enough! Now to business. Didst ever see Trevelyn the priest?' 'No.' ' Think again. He has another name. Didst ever see Walter Franklin She laughed carelessly. Ay I know him passing well,' she said. ' Good— was banished from her Grace'? realms last year for that being a priest in the pay of the Pope, he did feloniously celebrate Mass in a cave by the seashore in the county of Kent. He has returned, and to-night he will perform a marriage ceremony at Dane Court, where Mistress Betty Franklin proposes to marry Master Hugh Fisher.' 'And I am to be there?' ' No, thou wilt go to Master Combwell and request him to send a pursuivant to arrest the priest. And thou wilt be sure to tell him to arrest the bridegroom, too,, and to report to the Queen's Grace that the information came from me.' 'lt will be all right,' mumbled the old woman. 'A guinea right easily and pleasantly earned.' He looked at her suspiciously. ' See to it that thou play'st no tricks,' ho said. ' Never fear, good Master Topham. I will earn thy guinea, never fear.' * There had been a few intimate friends gathered at Dane Court, but in order to avert suspicion they left in the course of the afternoon. Master Franklin was left alone in the House, for Betty and Hugh were wandering about the grounds. 'Look, Hugh!' exclaimed the girl. 'There is Lettice Wren and she is bringing me flowers.' The old crone was moving slowly up the driveway, both arms filled with golden daffodils nestling amidst their own green leaves. She laughed softly to herself as she saw the young people approaching her. As Betty reached her she let the flowers fall in a golden shower at her feet. 'A guinea's worth for you, Mistress Betty,' she said, 'from old Lettice Wren. No witch either, my sweet Daffodil Lady, but wise to spoil Master Topham's traps for all that.' Betty turned pale at the mention of the priest-hunter's name, and Hugh stepped forward. He understood that their interview in the wood had been overheard, for Lettice Wren never made signs in vain, and when she said ' Daffodil Lady,' he recognised the words as his own.

A hurried consultation ensued, and Hugh Fisher, after a few words of explanation to Geoffrey Franklin, rode' away,; for his presence might have been dangerous to Mistress Betty. The household thus warned and ready for a surprise, Betty strolled out into the grounds, for'Walter had . not arrived. She had dressed herself in a long dark cloak, with a hood that drew down closely around her face,' and with beating heart she waited in the little pathway by-the rabbit warren by which her brother would approach the fyouse, A voice came to her out of the darkness;

'Good-night, good friend!' ' God save you, Walter,' she whispered softly, as her brother's hand clasped hers. Overhead the stars were shining in a cloudless sky; there was no moon. The sound of a footstep approaching warily over the grass made Father Franklin draw his sister further into the shadow. A dark form stole past them, then another, and another. They stood motionless, afraid to breathe. When the intruders had passed them and taken their stations around the darkened house, brother and sister stole quietly into the wood. Skirting the hedge, they came to the main road, and after an hour's difficult walking reached Lettice Wren's hut. Where are the rest, Lettice asked the priest. For answer she moved aside the rags that served her for a bed, revealing a few boards. These she raised and they descended into a natural cavern through which ran a little underground brook. Hugh sprang forward. 'My Daffodil Lady!' he exclaimed as he caught Betty in his arms. Father and son clasped hands in silence. They were too full of thought for speech. One by one they knelt at the priest's feet while he heard their confessions and absolved them; then he turned to the rude altar which was hidden, beneath a mass of golden daffodils; where Betty stood radiant in her bridal white with the pearls, Hugh's gift, clasped about her throat. Benziger's Magazine.