"My sister!" said the monk, bending over her, and blessing her; and after a moment, during which he calmed the agitation of his feelings, he added—"How has it fared with you? Where is Stephen?"
But Margaret was many minutes ere she could do more than kiss his hand, and wet it with her tears. At length, when her emotions of joy and surprise had in some degree subsided, she replied, that Holgrave was still living a villein at Sudley.
"What!" exclaimed the monk—"the smith was indeed told that treachery had betrayed him into the baron's power; but is he chained to the spot—that for three long years he should bear the oppressor's rod?"
"No," replied Margaret: "he would have found some means of getting to the forest; but they hold the villeins bound for him—if he flies, all they possess of crops or cattle will be seized. But here is Stephen. I was just going over the hill to meet him, when I saw you."
Holgrave approached, and was scarcely less surprised than Margaret had been; and when he spoke of the report current, that it was the monk who had gone about striving to burst the chains of bondage, John Ball replied—
"Listen to me, Stephen Holgrave! I went in before the great ones of the land; before him who is appointed ruler of the people, to demand justice; and because I was of the blood of the bond, my prayer was rejected!—because I was born in bondage I was unworthy of the privilege of the free. The finger pointed, the lip scorned, and the tongue derided; and I was driven, amidst the jeers of the scoffer, from the palace of the king. But as I went forth, the spirit came upon me, and I vowed that I would not give rest to my feet until the bondman's fetters should be broken! And they shall be broken! A spirit has been roused that they reck not of—a spirit that will neither slumber nor sleep until he, whose first breath was drawn beneath the thatch of the villein-hut, shall be as free to come and to go as he whose first pillow was of the cygnet's down!—and no man shall say to him, what dost thou?"
But it was not merely Holgrave that the monk was now addressing; two or three passers-by had been attracted. The monk was recognized, and these were commissioned to whisper secretly in the bondman's ear, that he who had baptized their children, and breathed the prayer of faith over their sick beds, and who had wandered through the land, gladdening with the bright promises of hope the soul of the weary and the oppressed, had come once more amongst them to speak of personal enfranchisement, and of rent, instead of the accustomed service for the land they might hold. Father John then withdrew with Holgrave by a private path, to avoid any further interruption.
At an early hour the next morning, it was intimated to Calverley that the barony was all in motion—that the bondmen, and, indeed, all of the labouring class, were gathering, and whispering to each other, and evincing any thing but a disposition to commence their customary toil. These things certainly gave evidence of some extraordinary sensation; and Calverley's first inquiry was, "had any one seen the prophet?"—for such was the appellation by which John Ball was distinguished. No positive information could be obtained; the fact could be merely inferred, and the steward, who was not one to hesitate when an idea struck him, ordering a few retainers to attend him, proceeded to Holgrave's abode. But Holgrave was from home; there was no trace of the monk; and Calverley, knowing that it would be to little purpose to question Margaret, bethought him that the inquisitive Mary Byles might probably be the most proper person to apply to. From those who had crossed his path, he had merely been able to extract a sullen negative: but so well had the secret been kept, that the steward's interrogatory was the first intimation she had received of the probability of John Ball's being in the neighbourhood. However, Mary volunteered, provided Calverley would remain a few minutes, to collect some information. Presently, she returned—John Ball was, indeed, at Sudley! She had herself seen him come out of a cottage; she had beheld him harangue some bondmen who were awaiting his appearance, and after many impassioned words, he had gone on publicly through Winchcombe, with the blessings of the enthusiastic peasantry accompanying him. Calverley started at this information.
"Did you see Holgrave?" he asked, eagerly.
"Yes," replied Mary; "he was by the monk when he stood at the door of the villein's hut, and I dare say he is with him now."