The Miracle at St. Bruno's

'I am not sure, Damask, but I think you may be speaking treason.”

'Treason one day, Mother, is loyalty the next." I was suddenly afraid for her, because she was so simple. She did not love a faith but a husband; she would have taken whatever he offered her.

She proclaimed her beliefs in the Reformed faith because her husband had adopted them. Yet she could die for those beliefs as others had before her.

I embraced her suddenly.

"My dear child, you are affectionate today.”

"How should I know whether I shall be in a position to be so tomorrow?”

"My word, we are gloomy! What ails you, Damask? You are not sickening for something?

I will give you a little draft which contains thyme. That will give you pleasant dreams and tomorrow you will wake up in love with all the world.”

Tomorrow? I thought. What will tomorrow bring?

But I must not alarm my mother. She was happy for today. Let her remain so. My father had once said that, living in such times as ours, we should take no thought for the morrow; we should savor each hour and if it contained pleasure, enjoy that to the full.

I could not in any case speak to her of my anxieties. How could I tell her that the man she had married and on whom she doted as though he were some prophet from heaven was threatening to destroy us and had offered me security if I became his mistress?

The day seemed long. I could settle to nothing. I went to the scriptorium as I sometimes did and listened to the girls at their lessons. What will become of them? I asked myself; and I wished, as my father had wished for me, that they were securely married and living somewhere far removed from the stresses caused by men's clashes of opinion.

At dinner we sat at the family table on the dais and the rest of the household at the large one in the hall, and although when a sound was heard from without I was aware of furtive looks in the direction of the door and I knew some of the company were attacked by acute apprehension and some trembled in their seats, there was no outward indication of alarm and confident looks were cast in Bruno's direction.

It was just as we were about to leave the table that a messenger did arrive.

I shall never forget the awful consternation which filled that hall. I rose to my feet. I had taken the hand of Catherine who was seated next to me. Her startled gaze was turned toward me. I thought: Oh, God, it has come. What will become of us all?

Bruno had risen too but he showed no apprehension. Calmly he left his place and went forward to greet the messenger.

"Welcome," he said.

"I bring ill news," said the messenger. "The King is dead.”

I could sense the breaking of the tension; it was as though everyone present gave a long-drawn-out "Ah." The King was dead. Who could say what would happen next? The Lady Mary was in line for the throne. The Abbey was saved.

I saw Bruno's complacent smile. I saw the look of wonder in the faces of those who had been with him in the church last night.

He had promised them a miracle-for only a miracle could save the Abbey from Simon Caseman's treachery. And this was their miracle. The death of the King; the end of the Protestant rule. The Catholic Princess awaiting to mount the throne.

Momentarily he caught my eye. I saw the triumph there; the enormous pride which I was beginning to think no one ever possessed in such strength as he did.

And immediately I thought: He knew all the time. He knew the King was dead. He knew that if Simon Caseman's accusation against him was going to succeed he should have brought it months ago. He arranged for the messenger to bring the news at a time when it would create the greatest effect. I was beginning to know well this man whom I had married.

There was no thought in anyone's mind now but what was going to happen next.

When I heard that Edward had died two days before the fact was made known I was certain that Bruno had known of this and for this reason he had flouted Simon Caseman and decided to impress his followers by his miracle.

I was building up such a cynical view of my husband that I began to wonder whether I hated him.

But he was less complacent when the news came that the Duke of Northumberland had persuaded the King to set aside his two sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, on the grounds of their illegitimacy, and to declare his cousin Lady Jane Grey the true heir to the throne; but Mary had too much support for this to be accepted and immediately a Catholic faction began to form about her and the country was divided. Families were divided.

The only aspect which made me rejoice was the fact that we had a respite. The affairs of the country were so much more important than those of a single abbey and no one was going to arrest people who, were Mary to come to the throne, would be considered true and loyal subjects while those who arrested them would be the traitors.

The country was in a ferment of excitement.