The last lingering remnants of loyalty forbade his seeking to see that son, as much as the fear of offending his son-in-law, and yet he longed to fold Harry in his arms and look in his face once more.
When the travellers reached Hayslope they found the villagers in a wildly excited state. Many of their relatives who had been fighting at Naseby were held prisoners by the Parliament, and of course could not return home this winter; and lads too young to serve as soldiers, and the women, with Martin the blacksmith at their head, were wildly clamouring for the destruction of the Parliament and all the rebels. The poor wounded messenger had most mysteriously disappeared, Maud heard, but on questioning some of them more closely, it seemed that he had more than once been threatened by Martin, if he would not swear to serve the King, while he stoutly refused, and at last he left the village with his wound only half healed.
Poor old Dame Coppins was of course accused of having some hand in this business. Without the help of witchcraft the man could not have escaped, the women said, and for once Maud felt thankful to the unknown witch, whoever she might be, who had done this service. She believed in witchcraft almost as fully as the ignorant villagers, but she did not believe Dame Coppins was a witch simply because she did not choose to tell all the village her business—where she had come from, and what had induced her to take the lonely cottage outside Hayslope,—and this was the only reason they had for supposing her a witch.
Maud had tried to reason them out of this, had told them she was a poor widow who had seen a great deal of trouble, and preferred a solitary life; that she loved the Bible and feared God as much as any of them; but it was all of no avail. That any one could exist without gossip was to them impossible to understand, and they shook their heads sadly, and thought Maud bewitched herself when she talked about Dame Coppins.
So the cottage in the lane was as lonely as ever, in spite of the patronage extended to the widow by Maud and the two children at the Grange.
For a day or two after her return Maud was not able to go to the cottage, for Master Drury had scarcely reached home when he was taken seriously ill, and Mistress Mabel's herbs and decoctions failed to relieve his sickness for some time. Bertram and Bessie, however, went each day, and brought back the report that the widow had seemed very joyful when she heard that Maud had returned, and that her errand had been so successful as to gain the prisoners their freedom.
Maud smiled when she heard this. "Marry, but their freedom is not gained yet," she said, with something of a sigh.
"Dame Coppins says they are free, and on their way to London," said Bessie.
Maud opened her eyes. Was the old woman a witch after all? Bertram's next words quite confirmed her in this wild notion. "Maud," he said in a whisper, "do you know that Harry was one of the prisoners."
"Who told you so?" asked Maud, quickly, for it had been agreed that this intelligence should not reach the children, or even Mistress Mabel.