Earl Hubert's Daughter Part 37

"My treasure! I will have Master Aristoteles to see to thee. I really hoped thou wert getting over it."

"It is of no use trying to keep me," she answered quietly. "You had better let me go--Mother."

The Countess's reply was to clap her hands--at that time the usual method of summoning a servant. When Levina tapped at the door, instead of bidding her enter, her mistress spoke through it.

"Tell Master Aristoteles that I would speak with him in this chamber."

The mother and daughter were both very still until the shuffling of the physician's slippered feet was heard in the pa.s.sage. Then the Countess roused herself and answered the appeal with "Come in."

"My Lady desired my attendance?"

"I did, Master. I would fain have you examine this child. She has a strange fancy, which I should like to have uprooted from her mind. She imagines that she is going to die."

"A strange fancy indeed, if it please my Lady. I see no sign of disease at all about the damsel. A little weakness, and low spirits,--no real complaint whatever. She might with some advantage wear the fleminum [Note 1],--the blood seems a little too much in the head: and warm fomentations would help to restore her strength. Almond blossoms, pounded with pearl, might also do something. But, if it please my Lady--let my Lady speak."

"I was only going to ask, Master, whether viper broth would be good for her?"

"A most excellent suggestion, my Lady. But, I was about to remark, the physician of Saint Albans hath given me a most precious thing, which would infallibly restore the damsel, even if she were at the gates of death. Three hairs of the beard of the blessed Dominic [Note 2], whom our holy Father hath but now canonised. If the damsel were to take one of these, fasting, in holy water, no influence of the Devil could have any longer power over her."

"_Ha, jolife_!" cried the Countess, clasping her hands. "Magot, my love, this is the very thing. Thou must take it."

"I will take what you command, Lady."

But there was no enthusiasm in Margaret's voice.

"Then to-morrow morning, Master, do, I beseech you, administer this precious cordial!"

"Lady, I will do so. But it would increase the efficacy, if the damsel would devoutly repeat this evening the Rosary of the holy Virgin, with twelve Glorias and one hundred Aves."

"Get thee to it, quickly, Magot, my darling, and I will say them with thee, which will surely be of still more benefit Master, I thank you inexpressibly!"

And hastily rising, the Countess repaired to her oratory, whither Margaret followed her. Father Warner was there already, and he joined in the prayers, which made them of infallible efficacy in the eyes of the Countess.

At five o'clock the next morning, in the oratory, the holy hair was duly administered to the patient. All the priests were present except Bruno.

Master Aristoteles himself, after high ma.s.s, came forward with the blessed relic,--a long, thick, black hair, immersed in holy water, in a golden goblet set with pearls. This Margaret obediently swallowed (of course exclusive of the goblet); and it is not very surprising that a fit of coughing succeeded the process.

"Avaunt thee, Satanas!" said Father Warner, making the sign of the cross in the air above Margaret's head.

Father Nicholas kindly suggested that a little more of the holy water might be efficacious against the manifest enmity of the foul Fiend.

Master Aristoteles readily a.s.sented; and the additional dose calmed the cough: but probably it did not occur to any one to think whether unholy water would not have done quite as well.

When they had come out into the bower, the Countess took her daughter in her arms, and kissed her brow.

"Now, my Magot," said she playfully--it was not much forced, for her faith was great in the blessed hair--"now, my Magot, thou wilt get well again. Thou must!"

Margaret looked up into the loving face above her, and a faint, sad smile flitted across her lips.

"Think so, dear Lady, if it comfort thee," she said. "It will not be for long!"

Note 1. A garment which was supposed to draw the blood downwards from the brain.

Note 2. "Hairs of a saint's beard, dipped in holy water, and taken inwardly," are given by Fosbroke (Encyclopaedia of Antiquities, page 479) in his list of medieval remedies.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

FATHER BRUNO'S SERMON.

"And speak'st thou thus, Despairing of the sun that sets to thee, And of the earthly love that wanes to thee, And of the Heaven that lieth far from thee?

Peace, peace, fond fool! One draweth near thy door, Whose footprints leave no print across the snow.

Thy Sun has risen with comfort in His face, The smile of Heaven to warm thy frozen heart, And bless with saintly hand. What! is it long To wait and far to go? Thou shalt not go.

Behold, across the snow to thee He comes, Thy Heaven descends, and is it long to wait?

Thou shalt not wait. 'This night, this night,' He saith, 'I stand at the door and knock.'"

_Jean Ingelow_.

Earl Hubert went very pale when his wife told him of the conversation which she had had with Margaret. She was his darling, the child of his old age, and he loved her more dearly than he was himself aware. But the blessed hair, and the holy water, were swallowed by him in a figurative sense, with far more implicit faith than they had been, physically, by Margaret. He was quite easy in his mind after that event.

The Countess was a little less so. The saintly relic did not weigh quite so much with her, and the white, still, unchanged face of the girl weighed more. With the restless anxiety of alarm only half awake, she tried to bolster up her own hopes by appeals to every other person.

"Father Nicholas, do you think my daughter looks really ill?"

Father Nicholas, lost at the moment in the Aegean Sea, came slowly back from "the many-twinkling smile of ocean" to the consideration of the question referred to him.

"My Lady? Ah, yes! The damsel Margaret. To be sure. Well,--looking ill? I cannot say, Lady, that I have studied the n.o.ble damsel's looks.

Perhaps--is she a little paler than she used to be? Ah, my Lady, a course of the grand old Greek dramatists,--that would be the thing to set her up. She could not fail to be interested and charmed."

The Countess next applied to Father Warner.

"The damsel does look pale, Lady. What wonder, when she has not confessed for over a fortnight? Get her well shriven, and you will see she will be another maiden."

"She sighs, indeed, my Lady; and I do not think she sleeps well," said Levina, who was the third authority. "It strikes me, under my Lady's pleasure, that she would be the better for a change."

This meant, that Levina was tired of Bury Saint Edmund's.

"Oh, there's nothing the matter with her!" said Eva, testily. "She never takes things to heart as I do. She'll do well enough."

"Lady, I am very uneasy about dear Margaret," was Doucebelle's contribution. "I am sure she is ill, and unhappy too. I only wish I knew what to do for her."

Beatrice looked up with grave eyes. "Lady, I would so gladly say No!

But I cannot do it."

The last person interrogated was Bruno; and by the time she came to him, the Countess was very low-spirited. His face went grave and sad.

"Lady, it never does good to shut one's eyes to the truth. It is worse pain in the end. Yes: the damsel Margaret is dying."