During all this time Mistress Margaret remained obstinately silent; but at length, seeing the distress of her mistress, she brought up her forces to the charge, and turned the tide of battle. Attacking the hostess full tilt, she declared that there should be another room found directly, informing her that the young lady was not a simple nun, but noble and rich, and just named prioress of the Lord knows where; that Sister Mary, i.e. Dr. Wilbraham, was badly troubled with a night-cough, which would keep the prioress awake all night; and in short, that Sister Mary must and should have a room to herself, for which, however, they would willingly pay.
This latter hint overcame the hostess's objections, and the matter being thus settled, they were allowed to repose in peace for the night. Fatigue, anxiety, and want of sleep, had now completely exhausted Constance; and weariness, acting the part of peace, closed her eyes in happy forgetfulness till the next morning, when they again set out for Sandwich.
Without any new adventure they arrived at that town; and after passing through it, quickly perceived the convent rising on a slight elevation to the left. As soon as this was in sight, so that he could not miss his way, Dr. Wilbraham got out of the litter, for the purpose of pulling off his nun's dress under some hedge, in order that, by following a little later than themselves, he might appear at the gate of the nunnery in his true character, without the change being remarked by the driver of the litter, to whom he said on descending that he would follow on foot.
After this, Constance and Mistress Margaret proceeded alone, and in a few minutes reached the convent, where, presenting Dr. Butts's letter to the prioress, they were received with all kindness and attention, and found themselves comparatively free from danger. Dr. Wilbraham was not long in arriving, restored to his proper costume; and being admitted to the parlour, entered into immediate consultation with the superior and Constance, as to the best means of concluding their flight as happily as it had commenced.
CHAPTER XXX.
So catchers
And snatchers
Do toil both night and day,
Not needie,
But greedie,
Still prolling for their prey.
However a poor novelist may like to pursue the even tenor of his way in peace and quietness, it is quite impossible for him to do so if he take a true story for the basis of his tale. Circumstance is always jumping about; and if he would follow nature, he must join in the game of leap-frog too. Here is the palace of Fortune, with its glitter, and its splendour, and its show; and there the cottage of Want, with its care, and its foulness, and its misery. In one house, new-born Life is coming into the world, all joyous; in the next, stern Death leads man away to eternity; weeping Sorrow and laughing Joy sit mocking each other at every step; and smiles and tears are still running after each other on the high road, though little formed to bear company together. Then, since the world is full of oppositions and of jumps, he that copies it must sit upon his hind legs and play the kangaroo also.
I found it necessary to put forth this excuse before proceeding with Vonderbrugius, who, without offering any reason for so doing, suddenly flies back to scenes that we have not long quitted, and brings the reader once more to London, where he shall be detained as short a time as possible, on the word of a scribe.
All those who have read the history of that little, powerful nook of island-earth called Great Britain, must very well know that the imperious minister of Henry the Eighth was not one to receive contradiction with patient resignation: what then was his rage on hearing that Lady Constance de Grey was not to be found at Richmond! True to what he threatened, Wolsey had not failed, immediately on arriving in London, to send a horse-litter down to Richmond for his fair ward, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour and the cold he had himself experienced on the water; and towards eleven the same night his messengers returned, informing him that the lady was not to be found in the palace; adding, also, that a man belonging to the gate had been employed to carry some luggage for her down to a two-oared boat, which had received her at the stairs, and rowed off towards Westminster.
This was the sum of all the news they had obtained, but it was sufficient to guide Wolsey on the search which he instantly prepared to institute for the fugitive. Before going to rest, he took every precaution for preventing her leaving the kingdom; ordered messengers to set out early the next morning for every port where she was likely to embark; and commanded an officer to post to Richmond that very night, and, stationing himself at the palace-stairs, to await the arrival of the men who rowed the boat which had conveyed her away, giving him at the same time an order for their arrest.