Chapter XIX. DEATH.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 70, 23 March 1871, Page 4

Chapter XIX. DEATH.

Sir Hugh had been summoned to Norwich by a message from his mother. Hitherto ho had obstinately avoided all correspondence with her. For reasons best known to herself, she had recently left the monastery at Canterbury, whither she resorted on leaving Dauedred Tower, aud had now located herself at a similar establishment at Norwich. Walrick had gleamed from the messenger some very startling intelligence: the Lady de Dauedred was dying. For awhile Sir Hugh forgot her crime, and was deeply moved by the news; and forewith he had resolved to break his resolution, and to see his mother once more before they were parted by the mysterious and gloomy gulf of death. His mother had evidently intended that he should meet Mary de Lawnford, and the events recorded in the preceding chapter had anticipated her intention. The Lady de Danedred was strangely altered. Mental trouble had broken down her haughty spirit, and had scored her face with deep, sharp linea. Her dark, penetrating eyes had become dim and expressionless, and when she spoke, a hard, uneasy movement of the lower jaw showed how utterly she had lost all physical energy, and how near at hand was the terrible messenger who opens to us the doors of Eternity*

She was reclining on a. couch within a large chamber but dimly lighted by two long and narrow apertures in the massive stone walls. Rushes were strewn on the floor, and in a niche at the darkest corner of the room stood a crrcifix on a small altar. The altar was covered with richly embroidered cloth, and two wax tapers, supported by massive silver candlesticks, threw a warm glow of light upon the cloth, on the shining crucifix, and on a heap of glittering jewels that Jay in front of the cross. The proud woman had relinquished ouc by one the splendid baubles of this world as the pangs of death grew more and more frequent, and they were placed on the altar, to purchase, at the last moment, a pass to Heaven. Alas! she did not know that she was mocking her Creator by offering a counterfeit coin; she never thought that one true repentant tear would be more precious in the eyes of angels than ten-thou-sand fold those pearls and costly stones! A monk sat by her side with a small table before him, on which were placed materials for writing, and in a faint voice, which was interrupted now and then by violent spasms, the dying woman dictated the following letter: — "Margaret, widow of Hugh deDanedred, to Henry Fitz-Alwynp, Mayor of the City of London, greeting! Whereas it has come to my knowledge that one William FitzOsbert, a citizen of London, doth conspire against the peace of the said city, and hath made sundry preparations for the overthrow of those lawfully appointed to maintain order within the precincts of the city, and hath moreover plotted a special injury to me and mine, which causeth me much tribulation. I earnestly pray that you will take measures to punish this wicked and malicious man now harbored within your walls. By promptly acting on this advice you will secure the peace of well-disposed citizens, and will confer a favor on the widow of Sir Hugh de Dauedred, who did good service and fell in honorable battle. The bearer of this letter hath twenty byzauts in a silken bag, which you will receive as a sure testimony of my regard." The monk had only just rol'ed and sealed this document, aud had placed it on one side with a small bag of yellow silk, when a distant blast of a horn proclaimed someone at the gates of the monastery. A slight flush overspread for a moment the Lady de Danedred's wrinkled face, and her eyes asumed a temporary lustre as she bent forward and listened eagerly. The monk rose slowly, and walked to the window with the calm solemnity of one careless of all earthly events. "Who comes?" asked the invaHd breathing heavily. "A troop of horsemen, a yoXmg baron, and a gentle lady," answered the monk, still looking through the narrow aperture. "Thank God!" gasped the Lady de Danedred, and, as if exhausted by the effort, she sank back on the couch, and clasping her long, thin fingers together, remained silent. Presently the door slowly opened, and one of the sisters of the establishment advanced to the bedside. ■'They have come," she said. "All?" asked the Lady de Dauedred, faintly. "Yes," replied the woman. "There is your son, and a young lady, Mary de Lawnford." | "Ah!" exclaimed her mistress in a halfwhisper; "they have met on the road. It is well. Bid Mary de Lawnford come to me." The woman retired, and returned in a few minutes, accompanied by Mary. "Oh, my dear lady!" cried Mary, falling on her knees by the bedside, "I did not expect to find you thus. Had I known you were ill, I would have come to you sooner." "You have come soon enough. We must all come to this. Do you still love my son?" The Lady de Dan ed red spoke with increasing difficulty. Mary's white hands were resting on the dark covering of the bed, and they trembled visibly as she answered, "I have not, I cannot forget the happy dream." "'Twill be more than a dream, child. Do as I tell you. Go to London, and there, on the table, is the means of crushing your rival." Mary started. "Unless Sir Hugh cares forme, my lady, how will it avail me to inj ure the happy woman who has won his regard?" "Leave that to me, child. Sir Hugh does love you — will love you. Do as I bid you. Deliver those with your own hands, and leave Sir Hugh to me. Farewell. I have not long to live. Oh, Heaven have mercy on me! Farewell! Kiss me, child. God bless you ! Go — go, and bid Sir Hugh hasten to me." Mary rushed from tae room to fetch Sir Hugh, and with closed docks, the young baron and a priest witnessed the last moments of "Margaret, widow of Hugh de Danedred." While struggling with death she whispered in her son's ear till her voice was no longer audible, and a cold film began to spread over her eyes. To be continued.