CHAPTER XLV.
I know no labour of the body which fatigues so much as agitation of the mind; but the fatigue which it produces is very often of that kind which refuses repose. The mind, in its immortality, does not so easily yield to slumber as its death-doomed companion. More than an hour passed ere Iola slept; but, when she did sleep, it was with the calm and tranquil repose of youth and innocence. Fears she might feel; strong emotions might affect her; dangers, anxieties, and cares she might undergo; but there was no evil act to be regretted, no evil thought to be combatted. The worm that dieth not was not in the heart. The fire that cannot be quenched had not passed upon the brain. She slept sweetly, tranquilly then; and daylight found her sleeping still.
The light-hearted country girl, who lay on the small bed at her feet, slept quietly too; but she had her accustomed hour of waking, and, at that hour, she rose. Her moving in the room roused Iola; and on being informed of the hour, though it was an early one, she said she would rise too, that she might be ready for whatever course Chartley chose to follow. Her toilet was nearly complete, and the girl had left the room some minutes, when she suddenly returned with a look of alarm, saying:
"Oh, lady, there is that terrible-looking black man at the door, insisting to speak with you."
Iola waited not to hear more, though the girl was going on to tell her that the whole house was in confusion, but sprang to the door and threw it open, demanding,
"What is it, Ibn Ayoub?"
"There is danger, lady," said the Arab. "My lord gave me charge to guard you to Lichfield in case of strife; and strife is coming."
"But where is your lord?" demanded Iola, with eager alarm in her tone and look.
"It is not known," replied the Arab. "He rode out this morning alone, it is supposed to visit some posts, or see for the men not yet come up. But he commanded me yesterday to guard you safely to Lichfield in any hour of peril. That hour is now. The Lord Stanley with a large force is marching on us; and our people are parlying with his, at the end of the village. They say they will give admission to none, till our lord's return; and Lord Stanley says he will force them. Throw on your hood, lady, and come down. Your horse is ready; and there is a way through the farm into the fields."
Iola hesitated for a moment; and then, looking earnestly in the Arab's face, she demanded:
"Did he say that I was to go?"
"By the beard of the prophet, he did," replied Ibn Ayoub.
At the same moment came the blast of a trumpet from no great distance; and the voice of the master of Chartley's household was heard calling up the stairs, and exclaiming:
"Call the Lady Iola, call the Lady Iola!--Tell her she had better hasten away, out by the other end of the village. Bid her make haste--bid her lose no time."
Iola snatched up her hood from the table; and leaving all the little articles of dress which had been brought with her, scattered about, she hurried down the stairs. All was confusion below; and in vain she tried to obtain some further information concerning Chartley. Most of the men had gone forth at the first news of danger; and there were none but the farmer and his sons, and the master of the household, an elderly and somewhat infirm man, on the lower story. The latter urged her eagerly to fly; and, hurrying into the court at the back of the house, she was soon mounted on the fleet horse which had borne her thither. Ibn Ayoub seized the bridle. One of the young men opened the great gates behind and in a minute or two after, Iola found herself amongst the fields and hedgerows, to the east of Fazely. Those hedgerows were then numerous, and in full leaf, hiding the fugitives from all eyes; and for nearly half an hour, the Arab urged the horses on at a quick pace. At first, just as they issued from the village, a number of loud sounds were borne upon the air; and once again a blast of a trumpet was heard. But gradually the sounds became faint, as Iola rode on; and very soon the calm sweet silence of an early summer morning fell over the scene around. Nought was heard but the beating of the horse's feet upon the road, the lowing of some distant cattle, and the singing of a bird. All was peaceful, except poor Iola's heart; and it beat with manifold agitating sensations.
"Let us go slower, Ibn Ayoub," she said. "We must be out of danger now--at least, out of that danger. Let me think, let me think. At this pace, I seem to leave thought behind me."
"Ay, there is no peril now," said the Arab, in his peculiar Oriental tone; "but yet it were well to reach Lichfield as soon as may be; for there my lord said he would join us."
"But are you sure you are in the way to Lichfield?" asked Iola. "And are you sure, also, that your lord will be able to join us?--Heaven, what will become of me, if he should not?"
"God is good," said the Arab, reverently laying his hand upon his breast, "and fate is unchangeable. This is the road to Lichfield; so I understood them; but every road has an end; and we shall soon see. Yet let us go slowly. I forgot you are not an Arab."
The way was longer however than the good slave thought, and seemed to Iola interminable. Villages were in those days few in the land; and many of the towns now existing were then villages. The road they travelled was evidently a small country road, good enough from the dryness of the season, but little frequented, and furnished with none of that convenient information, which tells the traveller of modern times, by an inscription on a tall post, that he must turn to the right to reach one place, or to the left to reach another. The heat was very great too, oppressing both the horses and the riders which they bore; and gradually the bright clear light of the summer morning began to be obscured. A thin filmy veil was drawn over the sky; and, as if forming themselves out of it, the yellowish outlines of gigantic clouds were seen writhing and twisting themselves into a thousand strange fantastic shapes. There was no wind, and yet they moved, and, gradually piling themselves up, they seemed to climb one over the other, like the Titans in the strife with Heaven.
"We shall have a storm ere night," said the Arab; "and you seem weary and alarmed, lady."
"Alarmed I am, but not for the storm, Ibn Ayoub," replied Iola. "It is for your dear lord, I am alarmed. It is this apprehension makes me feel weary, I believe, and the agitation of our sudden departure. Yet the air is terribly oppressive. I feel as if I could hardly breathe;" and she unclasped the sort of collar, called a gorget, which, at that time, formed a part of every lady's dress.
The Arab smiled. "It has but the feeling of spring to me," he said, "though in your cold clime, doubtless, it seems hot; but we will find some house where you can get refreshment and a few minutes repose."
"We may obtain information," said Iola; "and that is of more importance. I can very well ride on to Lichfield. It was but six miles, I think they said, from Fazely. By this time, we ought to have seen it, I think."
"True, we have travelled more than six miles," said the man; "but yet all seems clear. Nay, there is a house there. I see the roof peeping over the hill; and this must be, the gate leading up to it."
They turned along the little farm road, which they saw winding through two neighbouring fields, sloping upwards towards the west; and, as they rose upon the little hill, they attained a more distinct view of a good sized farmer's or franklin's house, with the low sheds and barns, which were then common in England.
"You go first and speak to them, lady," said Ibn Ayoub. "My skin frightens them--as if it needed to be washed in milk, to have a true heart."
He spoke from experience; and, judging that he was probably right, Iola rode on to the door, and called to a girl, who was carrying a milk-pail through the passage. She instantly set down the pail, and came running out to speak with the beautiful lady who called to her; but the moment she cast her eyes beyond Iola, to the face and figure of Ibn Ayoub, she ran back into the house with a scream. An elder woman, however, appeared in her place, with a frank good-humoured countenance, to whom Iola explained that she had come from Fazely, intending to go to Lichfield, but that, from the distance they had travelled without finding the city, she judged they must have made some mistake.
"Mistake, sweet lady! ay, marry, have you," answered the good woman. "Why, you are within four miles of Castle Bromwich, and I don't know how far from Lichfield--fourteen miles, we reckon; and they are good long ones, as I know. But you look tired and pale. Won't you come in and rest? That foolish child was frightened at your tawny Moor; but I'll warrant she'll soon be playing with his golden bracelets."
Iola had turned pale, to find that she was so far distant from the place of her destination. She feared, too, that in so long a ride as was now before her, she might fall in with some parties of the troops that were crossing the country; and, judging that she might obtain some information for her guidance at the farm, she accepted the good woman's offer, and dismounted. Ibn Ayoub led the horses round to a stall at the back of the house; and Iola was soon seated in the kitchen of the cottage, with milk and eggs before her, and the good dame pressing her to her food. There is something in graceful sweetness of manner, which wins upon the rudest and most uncultivated. But the good farmer's wife was not so. By character kind and cheerful, nature had taught her the best sort of courtesy, and to it had been added an education superior to that of many in her own rank. She could read, and she could write, which was more than one half of the class above her own could do; and she had lived in towns before she married a farmer, which had rendered her polished in comparison with others. It was with the kindness of her heart, however, that Iola had most to do; for there was so much frank sincerity in her hospitality, that Iola was encouraged to place some sort of confidence in her, and to ask her advice as to her farther course. The opportunity of so doing was easily found; for the good woman herself was not without that share of curiosity which is almost uniformly found amongst persons leading a very solitary life; and she asked full as many questions as it was discreet to put. Amongst the rest, how it happened that a lady, like Iola, was going to Lichfield, with only one man to guard her, and he a tawny Moor?
"There were plenty of men to guard me this morning," replied Iola; "but Fazely was menaced by a large body of troops, which the people about me judged to be enemies; and I was advised to fly as fast as possible, with the good Arab, who is a faithful and devoted attendant of----"
There Iola paused and hesitated, not knowing how to conclude her sentence, without calling forth inquiries or perhaps exciting suspicions, which might be difficult to answer, and unpleasant to endure. But the good woman saved her all pain on the subject.
"There, never mind names," she said. "These are not times for people travelling to give their names. It may be your husband, it may be your brother, you are talking of; but it is all the same to me. So then, there are two sets of them at Fazely, are there I heard of some people having mustered there from the west, three or four days ago; but I did not know there were any others marching up. Are you aware, dear lady--nay, do take another egg; you want refreshment, I can see--are you aware that the earl of Richmond and all his people are at this time in Lichfield?"
"No, I was not," answered Iola; "but, nevertheless, I must get forward thither as fast as I can; for there I am to be met by those to whom I must look for assistance and protection; and what I now fear is encountering any of the bands of lawless soldiers, who are now roaming about the land."
"Ay, marry, 'tis to be feared you do, riding so lonely. Why, Castle Bromwich was full of Sir William Stanley's people; but the greater part moved on yesterday to Atherston; two thousand goodly men as you would wish to see, they tell me; one half of them in armour of plate. I know not whether any were left behind, but 'tis very likely; for there is generally what they call a rear guard. Then there are the king's troops moving from Tamworth towards Leicester. They were to go yesterday. I don't know whether they did. As for that matter, Sir William's are the king's troops too, I suppose."
This intelligence did not serve to cheer Iola very much, for it only showed her, more forcibly than ever, the difficulty she might meet with, in trying to escape from that circle of military operations which were taking place all around her; and, for a moment or two, she looked so disconsolate, that the good woman's pity was moved.
"Ah, poor thing," she said, "I wish I knew what I could do for you. You are too young, and too gentle, to be exposed to such sort of things. Now, I warrant you, you have seldom stretched your limbs on a hard bed, or eaten homely fare like ours."
"Oh yes, I have, often," replied Iola, with a gayer smile than she had ever assumed since she entered the house; "and very happy was I when I did so."
"But you are a lady by birth?" said the good woman, with a doubtful look.
"Oh yes," replied the fair girl, "I am the heiress of a high house, my good dame; more's the pity."
"Ay, why more's the pity?" asked the farmer's wife.
"Because flies will come where there is honey," answered Iola; "and many a one seeks riches who cares little for love."
"True, very true," replied the other, with a sigh. "I wish I could help you, dear lady; but I know not how. They took all our horses and carts yesterday, and the men with them, and my husband too, to carry over the baggage of Sir William's troops to Atherston. If my man had been at home, he would have told you what to do soon enough; for he has got a head, I'll warrant."
"Let us call in the slave, and consult with him," said Iola. "He is faithful and honest; and we trust him much."
Ibn Ayoub was accordingly sought for, and found in the farm-yard, where he had already made such progress in overcoming the prejudices of the farmer's daughter, that she had brought him a bowl of milk with her own hands. Although he spoke English but imperfectly, and understood less what others said than they understood him, his questions soon elicited from the good farmer's wife and her daughter, who followed him into the room, much more intelligence than Iola had obtained. The girl told them, that people from Bromwich had been seeking more carts that morning, that a band of Sir William Stanley's men had arrived at the town by daybreak, and were to depart at noon, or before, if they could get carriage. The farmer's wife remembered, too, that one body of them was likely to pass along the very road upon which she had been about to direct Iola towards Lichfield.
"Can we learn when they have gone by?" asked Ibn Ayoub, in his laconic way.
"Then we could go on at once, when the way is clear," said Iola.
"That were easily done," said the farmer's wife. "The road is not very far. We have a field that overlooks it."
"Send the little cow-boy to feed the cattle by Conyer's copse," suggested the daughter. "There he will see them all pass; and, my life for it, he will go down and talk with some of the archers, and learn what they are doing, and all about it."
"'Tis a good way," said Ibn Ayoub. "Let him not know why he is sent, lest he tell as well as ask."
Such was the course followed. With his dinner put into his wallet, the boy was sent to drive the cattle from the pasture where they were feeding, to that which overlooked the road; and he was strictly enjoined, if any soldiers went by, and asked whether there were carts or waggons at the farm, to say, no, they had gone to Atherston and not returned, and to come back and tell when they had passed. Iola, it was arranged, should remain where she was, till it was ascertained that this body at least had gone by; and when she made some faint excuse for intruding so long upon the good dame's hospitality, her hostess laughed, saying--
"Bless thee, my child, if 'twere for a month, thou art welcome. So thou art safe, I do not care. Come, Jenny, you've got the churning to do; and I have to make the cakes."
All that frank and simple kindness could do, during the next three or four hours, was done by the good woman of the house, to make her fair guest comfortable and at ease. Amongst the most painful periods of life, however, are those when thought and feeling are compelled to strive against each other for the mastery, when the heart is filled with deep emotions, and yet the external things of life are pressing upon the brain for attention and consideration. Such was now Iola's situation, as she sat meditating upon how she should make her way to Lichfield, through all the difficulties and dangers which surrounded her, while her heart was filled with anxiety for Chartley, and for the result of the struggle which she believed might be going on at Fazely.
Twelve o'clock, one, two, three o'clock came; and the cow-boy did not return. At last, somewhat anxious in regard to his absence, the farmer's daughter set forth herself to see for him. She found him in the very act of watching a small body of troops, passing from castle Bromwich towards Atherston; and, having looked along the road as far as she could see, she returned to the farm to make her report. It was now agreed that Iola, and her attendant, should still remain for half an hour, as the girl had seen a number of stragglers on the road; and while Ibn Ayoub went to prepare the horses, the good dame endeavoured, to the best of her power, to give Iola an accurate notion of the various paths she was to follow, to reach Lichfield by the least dangerous roads. Iola bent all her attention to her lesson; but, at length, she suddenly interrupted the good woman in her detail, saying--
"Oh, I know that spot well, where there are the three stone mounting steps, and the great cross above them. One road leads to St. Clare, of Atherston, and the other to Tamworth."
"And the little one on the left straight to Lichfield," replied the good woman. "It is the same distance from each, just seven miles and a furlong. If you were to go on the Tamworth road, you would have Fazely close upon your left. As you go to Lichfield, you will leave it four miles upon your right."
The horses were soon after brought round. The adieus were spoken. The good farmer's wife would receive no recompense for the entertainment which she had afforded to Iola. But a small brooch, which the lady took from her hood, and bestowed upon the daughter, was more than compensation for everything but the kindness and tenderness which nothing could repay; and, with a motherly blessing upon her head, as she departed, Iola waved her hand, and once more rode upon her journey.