Part 134 (1/2)

”She died about three years ago, and was buried here.”

”Oh, that is another matter,” said Jorian; ”that was before my time; the vicar could tell you, likely; if so be she was a gentlewoman, or at least rich enough to pay him his fee.”

”Alas, my son, she was poor (and paid a heavy penalty for it); but born of decent folk. Her father, Peter, was a learned physician; she came hither from Sevenbergen--to die.”

When Clement had uttered these words his head sunk upon his breast, and he seemed to have no power nor wish to question Jorian more. I doubt even if he knew where he was. He was lost in the past.

Jorian put down his spade, and standing upright in the grave, set his arms akimbo, and said sulkily, ”Are you making a fool of me, holy sir, or has some wag been making a fool of you?”

And having relieved his mind thus, he proceeded to dig again, with a certain vigour that showed his somewhat irritable temper was ruffled.

Clement gazed at him with a puzzled but gently reproachful eye; for the tone was rude, and the words unintelligible.

Good natured, though crusty, Jorian had not thrown up three spadesful ere he became ashamed of it himself. ”Why what a base churl am I to speak thus to thee, holy father; and thou standing there, looking at me like a lamb. Aha! I have it; 'tis Peter Brandt's grave, you would fain see, not Margaret's. He does lie here; hard by the west door. There; I'll show you.” And he laid down his spade, and put on his doublet and jerkin to go with the friar.

He did not know there was anybody sitting on Peter's tomb. Still less that she was watching for this holy friar.

FOOTNOTE:

[C] Pietro Vanucci, and Andrea, did not recognize him without his beard.

The fact is, that the beard, which has never known a razor, grows in a very picturesque and characteristic form, and becomes a feature in the face; so that its removal may in some cases be an effectual disguise.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIX

WHILE Jorian was putting on his doublet and jerkin to go to Peter's tomb, his tongue was not idle. ”They used to call him a magician out Sevenbergen way. And they do say he gave 'em a touch of his trade at parting; told 'em he saw Margaret's lad a coming down Rhine in brave clothes and store o' money, but his face scarred by foreign glaive, and not altogether so many arms and legs as a went away wi'. But, dear heart, nought came on't. Margaret is still wearying for her lad; and Peter, he lies as quiet as his neighbours, not but what she hath put a stone slab over him, to keep him where he is: as you shall see.”

He put both hands on the edge of the grave, and was about to raise himself out of it, but the friar laid a trembling hand on his shoulder, and said in a strange whisper--

”How long since died Peter Brandt?”

”About two months. Why?”

”And his daughter buried him, say you?”

”Nay, I buried him, but she paid the fee and reared the stone. Why?”

”Then--but he had but one daughter; Margaret?”

”No more; leastways, that he owned to.”

”Then you think Margaret is--is alive?”

”Think? Why I should be dead else. Riddle me that.”

”Alas, how can I? You love her!”

”No more than reason, being a married man and father of four more st.u.r.dy knaves like myself. Nay, the answer is, she saved my life scarce six weeks agone. Now had she been dead she couldn't ha' kept me alive. Bless your heart I couldn't keep a thing on my stomach; nor doctors couldn't make me. My Joan says, ”Tis time to buy thee a shroud.' 'I dare say, so 'tis,' says I; 'but try and borrow one first.' In comes my lady, this Margaret, which she died three years ago, by your way on't, opens the windows, makes 'em s.h.i.+ft me where I lay, and cures me in the twinkling of a bed post; but wi' what? there pinches the shoe; with the scurviest herb, and out of my own garden, too; with sweet feverfew. A herb, quotha, 'tis a weed; leastways it was a weed till it cured me; but now whene'er I pa.s.s my bunch I doff bonnet, and, says I, 'My service t'ye.'

Why, how now, father, you look wondrous pale, and now you are red; and now you are white? Why, what is the matter? What in Heaven's name is the matter?”