“It grieves me, Master Cobbe, and, though I speak this, it is not as an enemy but as a friend. I merely place my position before you, and say is it not better to avoid all this trouble, when instead the way is open to wealth and honour, and a peaceful old age?”
“Who and what are you?” cried the founder, passionately; “and why do you come to disturb my peaceful home?”
“I am his Majesty’s servant, Master Cobbe. I came here at his command to investigate certain malpractices alleged against thee. I found them to be true, but I found here also a greater king than his Majesty James the First. I found here that all-powerful monarch—Love, and, vanquished by him, I suffered thy sword; I made reports that softened thy case; I returned from my mission with so goodly an account that the King gave me leave to offer thee honour and wealth if, in place of being of doubtful allegiance, thou becomest his faithful liege subject, and work for him as you have been accused of working for others. There, Master Cobbe, it is late, and thou art angry. Think over it all; sleep on it; take time to consider. I am one who can wait; for, believe me, I would rather see thee honoured than know that a lingering imprisonment was sapping thy vital forces and bringing thee low. Good night, Master Cobbe, good night.”
Sir Mark held out his hand, but it was not noticed; the founder sitting back in his stiff old-fashioned chair, and going over the words of his guest, who, with a peculiar smile, glanced at him mockingly, and slowly ascended to his chamber, leaving his host to sit thinking hour after hour, and at last to stumble off heavily to bed with the feeling upon him that he had been playing at some game with heavy stakes, and that the luck had been all upon the other side.
How Mistress Anne was Unquiet, and how the Founder came to Terms.
The coming back of Sir Mark had the effect of driving Mace to her room, where she stayed as much as possible. Gil need have had no jealous fears, could he have read her heart, for her every thought was of him. Seated at her window, looking over the Pool, her eyes might be gazing at some azure kingfisher darting across the shallows, or seated on some twig, ready to plunge down and emerge from the water with the drops falling like glistening pearls from its sides, as it bore away a tiny silvery fish; or her pensive look be fixed upon the heron, so grey and lank of mien, standing motionless, deep in the water, amidst the varied aquatic growth, where it seemed at times to launch its long beak, like some javelin, at a luckless fish, to stab or seize it for its prey; or at even, when the soft wreaths of mist came floating over the Pool, she watched the flight of the owl as it uttered its peculiar cry, and swept by so softly that it passed as noiselessly as a ghost, while the white moths flitted and danced amidst the roses round her casement by night, as the golden flies and gauzy-winged dragons darted and played about in the sun. By soft balmy day, or cool delicious dreamy night, Mace sat at her window, watching and thinking, but it was always of the white sails of a ship, ever gliding farther and farther away.
These thoughts formed her bright dreams, to which she turned when fancies about Sir Mark became obtrusive; for the days glided on, and he stayed, growing each hour more courtly and respectful to her. While he was bright and full of compliments she could fence with him, and turn away the points of his speeches, but now that he had become grave and earnest she was full of fears.
A greater cause for fear though was the conduct of her father, who seemed to be giving way to their guest, though at times he broke out with his old independent ways, and appeared to be setting him at defiance.
Mace was puzzled, for she could not comprehend her father’s manner. He had never been more tender and affectionate, but there was something behind which troubled her.