On this news, the messenger immediately set off again, leaving Dr. Wilbraham to discuss what matters he liked with the page, now that his own insolent haste was satisfied. The servants instantly recognised their master's uncle, and permitted him, with his fair companions, to enter and take possession of his book-room, while awaiting his return; and the rosy maid, whom Sir Osborne had found scrubbing crucibles, now bustled about with good-humoured activity to make the lady comfortable.
Long seemed the minutes, however, to the mind of poor Constance till the physician's return. Her path was now entirely amidst uncertainties, and at each step she knew not whether it would lead her to safety or destruction. Such a proceeding as that in which she was engaged does not strike one, when calmly related, as full of half the anxiety and alarm that really accompanied it. Let it be remembered, that not only her fortune, but her liberty for life, and the whole happiness of her existence, were involved; and it may be then conceived with what trembling fear she awaited each incident that might tend to forward her escape or to betray her flight.
Though it seemed to her an age, Dr. Butts was not really long in returning; but no language can depict the astonishment of his countenance when he beheld Lady Constance with his uncle. "'Odslife!" cried he, "what is this? Lady, are you ill, or well, or wise? Uncle, are you mad, or drunk, or foolish?"
The good clergyman informed him that he was in none of the predicaments to which he alluded, and then proceeded to relate the circumstances and motives which had induced them to resolve upon leaving the court of England and flying to France, to claim the protection of the French king, who was, in fact, the lady's sovereign as far as regarded her maternal estates.
"It's a bad business!" cried Dr. Butts, who still stood in the middle of the floor, rubbing his chin, and not yet recovered from his surprise; "it's a bad business! I always thought it would be a bad business. Nay, nay, lady, do not weep," continued the kind-hearted mediciner, seeing the tears that began to roll silently over Constance's cheek; "it is not so bad as that. Wolsey will doubtless claim you at the hands of the French king; but Francis is not a man to give you up. However, take my advice: retire quietly to one of your châteaux, and live like a nun till such time as this great friendship between the two courts is past. It will not last long," he added, with a sententious shake of the head: "it will not last long. But, nevertheless, you keep yourself in France, as secretly as may be, while it does last."
"But how to get to France is the question," said Dr. Wilbraham: "we shall do well enough when we are there, I doubt not. It is how to get to France that we must think of."
"Oh! we will manage that," replied Dr. Butts; "we will manage that: though, indeed, these are not things that I like to meddle with; but, nevertheless, I suppose I must in this case. Nay, nay, my dear lady, do not grieve. 'Slife! you a soldier's daughter, and afraid! Nay, cheer up, cheer up! It shall all go right, I warrant."
The doctor seated himself, and observing that Constance looked pale and cold, he insisted on her swallowing a Venice glass of mulled sack and going to bed. As to the sack, he said, he would ensure it for the best in Europe; and in regard to the beds in his house, he could only say, that he had once entertained the four most famous alchymists of the world, and they were not men to sleep on hard beds. "Taste the sack, lady; taste the sack;" he continued. "Believe me, it is the best medicine in the pharmacy, and certainly the only one I ever take myself. Then while you go and court your pillow, I will, devise some scheme with this good uncle of mine to help you over to the Frenchman's shore."
The physician's rosy maid was now called, and conducted Lady Constance and Mistress Margaret to a handsome bedchamber, where we shall leave them for the present; and without prying, into Dr. Butts's household furniture, return to the consultation that was going on below.
"Well, uncle," said the physician, as soon as Lady Constance had left them, "you have shown your wisdom truly, in running away with an heiress for another man. On my life, you have beaten the man who was hanged for his friend, saying that he would do as much for him another time! Why, do you know, you can never show your face in England again?"