Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth CenturyFullerton, Georgiana
History
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century
Fullerton, Georgiana
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
He said he meant not otherwise, but that he had great confidence it
should then be so. When at last we parted he went down Holborn Hill
very fast, and I slowly to Ely Place, many times stopping for to catch
one more sight of him in the crowd, which howsoever soon hid him from
me.
When I arrived at home I found Muriel in great affliction, for news
had reached her that Mistress Ward had been apprehended and thrown
into prison. Methinks we had both looked for no other issue than this,
which she had herself most desired; but nevertheless, when the
certainty thereof was confirmed to us, it should almost have seemed as
if we were but ill-prepared for it. The hope I had conceived a short
time before that she should escape in the same vessel with Basil and
Mr. Watson, made me less resigned to this mishap than I should have
been had no means of safety been at hand, and the sword, as it were,
hanging over her head from day to day. The messenger which had brought
this evil news being warranted reliable by a letter from Mr. Hodgson,
I intrusted him with a few lines to Basil, in which I informed him not
to stay his departure on her account, who was now within the walls of
the prison which Mr. Watson had escaped from, and that her best
comfort now should be to know he was beyond reach of his pursuers. The
rest of the day was spent in great heaviness of spirit. Mr. Congleton
sent a servant to Mr. Roper for to request him to come to London, and
wrote likewise to Mr. Lacy for to return to his house in town, and
confer with some Catholics touching Mistress Ward's imprisonment.
Muriel's eyes thanked him, but I ween she had no hope therein and did
resign herself to await the worst tidings. Her mother's unceasing
asking for her, whose plight she dared not so much as hint at in her
presence, did greatly aggravate her sufferings. I have often thought
Muriel did then undergo a martyrdom of the heart as sharp in its kind
as that which Mistress Ward endured in prison, if the reports which
did reach us were true. But more of that anon. The eventful day, which
had opened with so much of fear and sorrow, had yet in store other
haps, which I must now relate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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