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Updated: May 13, 2025
In body I had wandered some way, in mind and heart farther, through many dark ways, turning and twisting here and there, leading I knew not whither, seeming to leave no track by which I might regain my starting point. Yet, although I felt it not, the thread was in my hand, the golden thread spun here in Hatchstead when my days were young.
"She did not bid me; but I did it because she was there." I looked up at her; it was a rare thing with her, but she would not meet my glance. I looked down again. "It was always the same between her and me," murmured Nell. "Ay, so long ago even at Hatchstead." "We're not in Hatchstead now," said I roughly. "No, nor even in Chelsea. For even in Chelsea you had a kindness for me."
Some said, and many believed, that Madame brought the young French lady in her train to Dover with the intention that the thing should happen which happened. In like manner I am reluctant to think that she planned harm for Mistress Barbara, towards whom she had a true affection, and I will read in an honest sense, if I can, the letter which M. de Fontelles brought with him to Hatchstead.
Come, shall we both go to-morrow to Hatchstead a pretty village, Mr Darrell and let the great folk go alone to Dover?" "You know I cannot. I serve my Lord Arlington." "And I the Duke of Monmouth." "But my Lord is the King's servant." "And his Grace the King's son." "Oh, if you're obstinate " he began, frowning. "As fate, as prophecy, as witch, as Ranter, as devil, or as yourself!"
I stepped towards the door, but a hand laid on my arm arrested me. "Simon," she asked, "have you sweet memories of Hatchstead?" "God forgive me," said I confusedly, "sweeter than my hopes of heaven." She looked at me gravely for an instant. Then, sighing, she said, "Then I wish you had not come to town, but stayed there with your memories. They were of me?" "Of Cydaria."
Come to London, we were told that my lord was at Hatchstead; having despatched our borrowed equipage and servant to their mistress, and with them the amount of my debt and a most grateful message, we proceeded on our road, Barbara in a chaise, I again riding.
Barbara had seen her in the park at Hatchstead, seen her more than once, and more than once found sore offence in what she saw. There is wisdom in silence; I was learning that safety might lie in deceit. The anger under which I had suffered would be doubled if she knew that Cydaria was Nell and Nell Cydaria. Why should she know?
"Why, he said," I answered, "that this great letter comes to me on the King's service, and that I have nothing to pay for it," and I turned it over and over in my hands. But the inscription was plain enough. "To Master Simon Dale, Esquire, at Hatchstead, by Hatfield." By this time half the company was round us, and my Lord Clarendon well-nigh forgotten.
"I'm sorry," she went on softly, "that I came to Hatchstead; I'm sorry that I brought you to London, that I met you in the Lane, that I brought you here to-day. I didn't guess your folly. I've lived with players, and with courtiers, and with with one other; so I didn't dream of such folly as yours. Yes, I'm sorry."
Yet she had faced the world and laughed to scorn all England's frowns. She understood my thought, and coloured red. Since when had Cydaria learnt to blush? Even at Hatchstead my blush had been the target for her mockery. "Tell her," she repeated angrily. But Barbara knew. Turning to her, I had seen the knowledge take shape in her eyes and grow to revulsion and dismay.
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