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Updated: May 7, 2025
It was an hour before sunset when Marjorie came out again into the walled garden that had become for her now a kind of sanctuary, and in her hand she carried a letter, sealed and inscribed. On the outside the following words were written: "To Mr. Robin Audrey. At Matstead. "Haste, haste, haste."
"Your blessing, sir," he said to the priest. And Anthony eyed him with astonishment. Robin was moved, as he rode home over the high moors, and down at last upon the woods of Matstead, in a manner that was new to him, and that he could not altogether understand.
He was of the strong castle and the chamber, not of the tent and the battle.... And yet it was of such soldiers as these, as well as of the sturdy and the strong, that Christ's army was made. It was in broad daylight, though under a weeping sky, that Robin rode into the court at Matstead.
They were just parting Anthony to ride back to Dethick, and Robin over the moors to Matstead, when over a rise in the ground they saw the heads of three horsemen approaching.
The Babingtons had their country house at Dethick and their town house in Derby; the Audreys owned a matter of fifteen hundred acres at least all about Matstead; and the FitzHerberts, it was said, scarcely knew themselves all that they owned, or rather all that had been theirs until the Queen's Grace had begun to strip them of it little by little on account of their faith.
It was true, as he had said to Mr. Barton, that they were to speak of a matter of tithe this was to be their excuse if his father questioned him for there was a doubt as to in which parish stood this farm, for the yeoman tilled three meadows that were in the Babington estate and two in Matstead.
Peter's churchyard, until he had learned to hold his tongue. But all this was just part of the game. It seemed to him as inevitable and eternal as the changes of the weather. Matstead Church, he knew, had once been Catholic; but how long ago he did not care to inquire. He only knew that for awhile there had been some doubt on the matter; and that before Mr.
Finally, the tale of how the priest had been taken by his own father old Mr. Audrey of Matstead him that was now lying sick in Mr. Columbell's house this put the crown on all the rest. A hundred rumours flew this way and that: one said that the old man had known nothing of his son's presence in the country, but had thought him to be still in foreign parts.
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