Lament for a lost lover

“You will see, my dearest.”

There was a knock on our door. It was Harriet.

“Come in,” cried Edwin.

She came looking about her, laughing.

“What an experience. Now, Arabella, would you rather be back in France?”

“I should be most wretched. It is wonderful to be here. It’s home after all ... and Edwin is here ...”

“And I?”

“And you, Harriet.”

“Yes, please don’t leave me out. I should hate that.”

“We would not dream of it,” Edwin assured her.

“I should be hurt if you regretted corning, Arabella. I should think I ought to have come ... alone.”

She looked at Edwin and they burst out laughing.

“All this will be changed before long,” said Edwin, waving a hand. “I’ll wager in a year, perhaps less, all this drabness will be replaced by life, colour, gaiety ... everything that our good King Charles will bring back to the land.”

“Fine clothes,” murmured Harriet. “Dashing gallants and ... the theatre ...”

“Come,” said Edwin, “we are to go to the library where my cousin is awaiting us.”

“Does he expect us to go with you?” I asked.

“I think the invitation was extended to us all. He will probably want to prime you on how you must behave. He will soon send you away if you are not wanted. He was always one to make his wishes clear. I could have died of laughing when I saw him. ‘God preserve you, friend.’ He is in complete control of the patter. I believe he is enjoying it.”

“Should you take us to the library?” I said. “Shouldn’t we wait to be conducted there?

Won’t it look odd if you know your way about the house?”

“He gave me instructions ... for the sake of any servants who might be listening.

Come, let us go.”

He led us along a corridor to a staircase, not the one we had ascended. Our footsteps rang out on the wood because of the lack of rugs. I could see that the bare walls and bare floors were a shock to Edwin. I should have loved to see the house as it had been in the days before the King lost his throne.

We came to a door and Edwin opened it cautiously.

“Come in, friend,” said Carleton.

We entered. He was standing with his back to a fireplace. He looked larger than ever, yet different.

Edwin took a quick look round.

“All religious works, friend,” said Carleton. “You will find no sinful volumes here ... nothing but godliness.”

“What a comfort to rest in such a house,” replied Edwin fervently.

“I want to tell you of the customs of the house so that you can inform to them during your stay here. I know it will be but brief, u t it would distress members of the household if you did not fall n with our ways. We start the day with prayers ... early morning prayers in the hall at six of the clock. Then we breakfast frugally and there are prayers after. We all have our morning tasks and some will be found for you while you stay here, for idleness is an invitation to the Devil. There is service in the old chapel at noon, after which we dine. We do not linger at the table. We then work during the afternoon, sup at six of the clock and then there is another service in the chapel. Only the Bible and approved books on religion are read in the house.”

“A godly house indeed,” murmured Edwin.

“Pray shut the door, friend,” replied Carleton.

Edwin did so, and when we were shut in a change came over Carleton’s face.

“Who are the women?” he said with different voice.

“Arabella is my wife, Harriet is her friend.”

“You are a fool,” snapped Carleton.

He went to the door, opened it and looked out. “One never knows when spies are about. I don’t think we are plagued by them, but I take every precaution.” He locked the door, then he went to the bookshelves and pressed himself against them; slowly the bookshelf moved inward and showed itself to be a door.

Carleton turned and looked at us. “To be used by any one of you in an emergency, but only in an emergency, and before the door is opened you must make certain you are not observed.” He lighted a candelabrum, picked it up and signed to us to follow him into the cavity, which we did. We were inside what could have been called a room. It was in complete darkness, but as he shone the light around it I saw that was full of goods. There were rolled tapestries, framed pictures stood up against the wall, chests, chairs, tables and other furniture. “You didn’t know about this concealed hiding place, did you, Edwin?” he said. “I almost told you once. Well, the fewer people who know of such places the better.” He looked with suspicion at me and at Harriet.

“What madness possessed you to bring the women?” he went on.

“He didn’t bring us, “I protested. “We came ... after him.”

He looked at me with mild distaste.

“You see,” began Edwin, “we have been so recently married.”

Carleton looked at me in a manner which I found most distasteful and burst out laughing. “No one can hear outside,” he said. “I tested it once with your father. We can come here to talk and be safe. But we must make sure that the library door is locked before we open the bookshelves. So ... you are here and there is work to be done.”