WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 57, 8 March 1871, Page 4

WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

A STORY OF LONDON LIFE IN THE DATS OF RICHARD COEUR DE LION. Frovi the Family Friend.

"Your grandfather," continued FitzOsbert, " went into the castle to abide by your mother, while I, with a heavy heart and whirling brain, staggered back to our ruined home, to look for you and to plan some method of rescue. To plan ? I was helpless! My wife had beeu dragged away from her home, from her child, from me; and I had lifted no arm to defend her. God forgive me! I was mad — an idiot — a coward. In vain I tried to think and plot. I had been able to think for others with clearness, and to plot for others with success, in the most complicated cases ; and now my own dear wife's life was at stake — the happiness of my own horne — all for which. I cared to live, — and I was brainless, hopeless, speechless. I went every day to the Tower, but was not permitted to see your poor mother. The Mistress of Danedred — foul tigress! — had resolved to have her fill of cruelty. I saw your grandfather, who told me all. He told me she grew weaker and paler every day, and how bitterly she felt the unexpected order which prevented our meeting. At last the day came for the trial. The Justices arrived at the Tower, and in the great hall ihe witnesses were assembled together. To my surprise, neighbors whom I least expected, stood up and gave false evidence against your mother. The Lady of Danedred was present, and they probably felt that her eye was on them. Your mother stood as you stood this morning — pale, erect, proud, with the mighty spirit of an angel beaming in her face. I waited patiently until all had been said against her, and then I arose and addressed the justices. My tongue seemed to cleave to my mouth, my words seemed to fall flat and dull, my arguments seemed to lose all their points, and I felt that your mother was looking at me with pity and shame. I concluded wildly, incoherently, and sat down burying ray head in my hauds. There was a movement among the judges, and a look of mercy beamed from their faces. It was a momentary ray of unexpected hope, but the bloodthirsty fury, the Lady of Danedred, was there, and her keen eyes read the judges through, and springing to her feet she demanded to ba heard. 'I, too, am a witness,' she said. 'This sinful woman hath threatened me with death, and my estate with confiscation, and in my presence she hath made strange signs and spells. Am Ito be believed or yonder dribbling lawyer?" The effect on the judges was instantaneous. They wagged their heads together, and all was lost. 'Woman!' I cried, 'You lie! By heaven, you lie! My wife's blood will be upon you and yours. You alone are the wretched slave of the infernal craft. You are scheming away the life of an innocent woman — but beware, a fiercer vengeance will await you and your house for this deed. The curse of God will fall on. you, the curse of all Heaven will crush you, the curse of the world will cling to you, and every moment of my existence shall be devoted to your exposui'e and your ruin!' I should have said more, but strong hands seized me, and I was hurried away. At the same moment I observed your grandfather snatch a mace from one of the soldiers near him, and in an instant he had struck to the ground the principal witness, a low beetle-browed villain who dwelt ou the Danedred lands. Then there was a great commotion, and in spite of desperate efforts to release myself I was. carried from the hall. As I left I turned and saw your mother — saw her for the last time. She looked at me as never woman" looked before, and her lips moved, but I only heard "our daughter Nelly." That look and those words decided my future life, and they have haunted me ever since. The look was a look of love, devotion, holy resignation; the words rang in

my ears like spiritual music that defied the clamor and uproar of the selfish world. I was locked up in. the keep, and remained there several days. The agony of those days drove me almost mad. I pictured to myself your poor dear mother, with her beautiful face, writhing in the horrible torture of walking the redhot iron, or convulsed in the last struggles of drowning and in my frenzy I tore at the iron chains which bound me, in frantic attempt to break through my prison-house and wreak vengeance on her false accusers. I wished for death that I might hurry to her in Heaven, and then the words, ' our daughter Nelly,' would ring again in my ears, and I calmed down resolved to bide my time for revenge, and to live for you. I took no count of the hours, but I afterwards heard that I had been shut up there three days, when one night the door was gently opened and the retainer who had several times brought me food, entered the chamber, and told me to hurry out at once if I wished to save my life. He unfastened the chain, and, scarcely knowing what I was doing, I went forth and found your grandfather standing outside. He pointed to a cord stretched across the moat, and with a great effort, for I was weak and my limbs were stiff with confinement, I contrived to follow him across in safety, hanging from the rope and moving along with my "hands. We then hastened towards the cover of the woods, and we never spoke until beneath their shelter. There, in a dark recess of brushwood, I found old Wilfred and you huddled in his arms, calling in your childish innocence for your mother — unconscious of her unhappy fate. Your grandfather then told me how he had escaped from the castle by dint of strength and cunning, and how he had managed to foil his pursuers, and to give Wilfred a knowledge of his place of concealment. Old as he was even then, his strength and activity were marvellous. He had succeeded in gaining the favor of one of the retainers, who kept watch and ward over me, and in the recollection of some past kindness received at old Half's hands, the good fellow risked his neck to effect my escape. But I had to hear of much more than this. I had to listen with a bleeding heart to the dreadful story of your mother's death. I caunot tell you all now; there is no need to tell you. Brave and noble to the last, she declared her innocence till the glowing iron at her naked feet forced a shriek of anguish I from her lips. Calling on Heaven, her husband, and her child, she perished soon after on a burning pile. The night was warm, but threatening clouds were floating across the sky, obscuring the moon. I remember well the wild appearance of the sky as old Ealf and myself knelt down when he had told me all, and, looking up through a break in the foliage, we swore to avenge her cruel end. At that instant a vast mountain of black cloud was rent asunder, and the bright moon shed upon as a sudden stream of silver light, and in the great valley of the moonlit cloudland I saw a delicate film of snow-white vapour floating upwards. The form of this aerial spray was like your gentle mother. ' See here,' I cried, ' her pure spirit seals our oath.' Ralf had not seen what I had seen, but he had observed with amazement the sudden opening of the clouds, and he felt with me that Heaven and the saints were on our side. After many hardships and dangers we got to London, and here we awaited the hour of dealing our blow. The opportunity has occurred oftentimes before, but Ralf and myself were not to be satisfied by a paltry revenge. The Lady de Danedrcd loved her son, and in her pride and love she stained her soul with the blood of your mother and the blood of my wife. At that one tender chord in her hard heart I will strike my blow!" The story was ended, and Nelly was still sitting on the stool before the fire, but her father had risen, and tossing his hands aloft was again carried away by the fury of his passion. The story had caused Nelly to weep bitterly. Her sensitive spirit was deeply moved by the changing tones of her father's voice and the acute pain which the effort to recount all the terrible past evidently caused him. But she had not forgotten her mission. The teachings of the good priest Broadhart, and her own gentle nature, had firmly implanted in her breast the principles of faith, hope, and charity. Her impulse at the conclusion of the story was not an impulse of indignation or of rage with the cruel Lady de Danedred; it was an impulse to fall on her knees and., pray for a soul so black with infamy. She shuddered at the thought of her mother's last words, and yet she felt a pride in the thought that her mother was a martyr. She secretly resolved to make her father of the same mind with herself. In the last two days all the violeut and worst part of her father's nature had been exposed to view, and she could not rest till she had raised him to the elevation of thought and feeling which she deemed needful for the hope of Heavenly favor. To be continued.