Poor Ella Brune felt that she was indeed alone; that there was no one to whom she could apply for anything that the heart and spirit of the bereaved and desolate might need. She knew, that had she been a leper, or halt, or blind, or fevered, she could have found those who would have tended, cured, supported her; but there was no comfort, no aid, for her loneliness; and scorn, or coldness, or selfish passion, or greedy knavery, would have met her, had she asked any one, in the wide crowd through which she passed, "Which way shall I turn my footsteps? how shall I bend my course through life?"
She felt it deeply, bitterly, and, as I have said, walked on full of her own sad thoughts, while the numbers round her grew less and less. At length, in the sort of irregular street that, even then, began to stretch out from the edge of Farringdon, without the walls, into the country towards Charing, she was left with none near her but the two men of whom we have spoken, and an old woman, walking slowly on before. The men seemed to notice no one, and conversed with each other in an under tone, till, in the midst of the highway, a little beyond St. Clement's well, one or two small wooden houses appeared built in the middle of the high road, with the end of a narrow lane leading up to the Old Temple in Oldbourne, and the house of the Bishop of Lincoln. There, however, one of them advanced a step, and spoke a word to Ella Brune, over her shoulder.
"Whither away, pretty maiden?" he said. "Are you not going to see the batch of country nobles who have come up to do homage?"
"I am going home," answered Ella Brune, gravely; "and want no company;" and she hurried her pace to get rid of him. The next instant the other man was by her side, and taking her arm roughly, he said, "You must come with us first, our lord wishes to speak with you."
Ella Brune struggled to disengage herself, saying, "Let me go, sir; if your lord wishes to speak with me, it must be at some other time. I have people expecting me hard by. Let me go, I say."
"Ay, we know all about it," rejoined the man, still keeping his hold, and drawing her towards the mouth of the lane. "You live at the Falcon, pretty mistress; but you must go with us first."
The sounds behind her had caused the old woman to turn round the moment before, and, seeing Ella struggling to free herself from the man who held her, she turned to remonstrate, exclaiming, "What are you about, sirs? Let the young woman go!"
"Get you gone, old beldame!" cried the other man, thrusting her back. "What is it to you?" and at the same time he seized Ella by the other arm, and hurried her on, in spite of her resistance.
"Beldame, indeed!" exclaimed the old woman, gazing after them. "Marry, thou art not civil. If thou callest me so, I will call thee Davy.[[2]] I will see whither they go, however;" and thus saying, at the utmost speed she could master, she followed the men who were dragging poor Ella Brune along, calling in vain for help--for the houses in that part of the suburb were few, and principally consisted either of the large gothic mansions of the nobility, shut in within their own gates and surrounded by gardens, or the inns of prelates, isolated in the same manner. Whither they were dragging her, the old woman could not divine: for she thought it unlikely that any of the persons who dwelt in that neighbourhood would sanction such a violent act. Ella herself, however, knew right well, for she had taken the same road the day before, on her brief visit to Sir Simeon of Roydon. Peril and wandering, and sad chances of various kinds, such as seldom are the lot of one so young, had taught her to remark every particular that passed before her eyes with a precision which fixed things in her memory that might have escaped the sight of others; and she had seen the snake embroidered on the breast and back of the knight's servants, and recognised the badge instantly on those who held her.
As she expected, the men stopped at the gates of the house, which were open, and dragged her into the court; but her cries and her resistance ceased the moment she had reached that place, for she knew that they were both in vain, and made up her mind from that moment to the course which she had to pursue.