Chapter 29 #2
But he was there two days later, when she went out with Eva to buy fruit.
He was still there when they had shopped around the market and retraced their steps.
The next day, when the family left the house to walk to church, she saw him standing on the opposite corner, and then her blood really did run cold.
“Don’t look now, but I fear that that man over there is shadowing me,” she muttered to Francis.
He stole a quick glance. “By Heaven, I’ve seen him, too. He was in the bierkeller yesterday afternoon when I dropped in for a drink. I thought it strange that he was all bundled up on a spring day.”
“Well, he’s been there twice in the market this week, and I think he was watching me.”
Francis frowned. “Shall I challenge him?”
“No. He will deny any sinister intention—and he may just live locally. But let us be watchful.”
—
Over the next few days, Kate saw the man again from a window; he appeared to be watching the house. Francis saw him talking to a fellow with an eyepatch; they were standing at the edge of the square. Then he appeared near the church again.
“I don’t like this,” Francis admitted, after they had walked past him. “We must keep the children indoors. Heaven forbid, one of them could be taken hostage for our sakes.”
When they returned home, a letter was waiting for Kate. She tore it open, recognizing Elizabeth’s code. Taking it into the bedchamber, she sat down and began to decipher it.
Elizabeth had sent it a month ago. It was brief and to the point: “My dear cousin, I have it on good evidence that a plot is afoot to kidnap you and your husband and spirit you back to England. If that happens, I could not answer for your safety. Be vigilant.”
Trembling, Kate showed Francis her transcript of the letter. “We have to leave,” she said. “We dare not risk staying here.”
“You are right,” he concurred, greatly alarmed. “I have friends in Frankfurt who will help us. We shall go there. It is nearer to England, if we hear that the situation has changed at home.”
“How wonderful it would be if that happened,” Kate said plaintively. “It is the news I long for. But we should leave tonight.” She could feel panic rising. “We must think of the children.” The need to protect them was overwhelming.
—
That evening, they broke the news to the servants.
Eva wept because she had family in Basel and did not want to live over three hundred miles to the north.
One of the nursemaids wept because her sweetheart in Basel had just asked her to marry him; she would not be leaving.
Only Thomasina, the other nursemaid, Meg, and Thomas would be accompanying the Knollyses.
The children were excited at the prospect of what was described to them as an adventure by night, and obediently helped to gather together their things. Kate forbore to tell them that they would be on the road for over a month. She would leave that until later.
Fortunately, the cart and the litter were stored behind high gates in a yard that abutted the house, so no one could see the servants loading the travelers’ belongings onto the cart.
With all the lights in the house extinguished, Kate hoped it seemed that the whole household was asleep.
They would not light lanterns until they were well clear of the city; until then, they would find their way by moonlight, taking the back roads.
She wondered fearfully if the cloaked man was there, watching, as she wrapped her children up warmly, despite the mild night, and bade them keep silent.
As a nearby clock struck midnight, Francis peered out of the front door.
The market square seemed deserted. There was no sign of the man in black.
He and Thomas opened the gates to the yard, wincing as the wood creaked, and Thomas went to fetch the horses from the stable.
He would drive the baggage cart and Francis would drive the litter containing Kate, the children, and the maids.
As the men harnessed the animals, Kate ushered her brood into the litter, holding a finger to her lips to remind them that they had to be very quiet.
She could not stop inwardly thanking Elizabeth, who had proved a true friend to her and who might well have saved their lives by warning them of the danger in which they stood—which they were not out of yet.
She was so tense that her whole body felt taut as a bowstring.
As the litter moved off, her heart was beating like a drum.
The streets of Basel were quiet. They did not encounter a single soul until they reached the city gates, where the guards demanded to know where they were headed.
“We are going to visit my sick mother in Colmar,” Francis explained. “We had an urgent summons this afternoon. I fear we may have to stay some time, hence the baggage.”
They were waved through, and then they were on their way. No one was following. Kate and Thomasina sat holding hands, both extremely tense, until they were satisfied that they had safely got away and were able to relax and go to sleep, snuggled up with the children.
—
Frankfurt was bustling and prosperous, dominated by the cathedral on its high hill and crammed with tall houses with steep roofs.
It was a city of merchants from all nations, and Kate was glad to hear some English voices.
Many were weavers; others worked in the book trade.
She was delighted to learn that there was an annual book fair, which was clearly a big event, for people spoke of it with pride.
Hopefully, she would be able to get some books there.
She had hated being obliged to leave hers in England, but they had been too heavy to bring with her.
They had found a lodging in the house of a fellow exile, John Weller, a wealthy London merchant.
Francis had been corresponding with him for a year or more, and he made them all very welcome.
He did not seem to mind that his home was overcrowded.
He and his wife, Susan, had five sons and a number of servants, so space was at a premium.
But John Weller was a large, jovial man who relished having English gentry under his roof.
He was delighted to learn that Kate was the niece of Anne Boleyn.
“Ah, there was a lady who was a great friend to the Gospel. She was sorely wronged,” he observed over dinner that first night, when the children were in bed.
“She was indeed,” Kate agreed. She could imagine Weller’s reaction were he ever to discover that King Henry’s own daughter had sheltered in his house.
Francis was interested to know more about his connection with a Scottish Calvinist exile called John Knox.
“Oh, yes, Sir Francis, I knew him when he was in Frankfurt last year. But his views were extreme; he’d even criticized the Emperor in one of his pamphlets.
He had to go to Geneva to escape the attention of the authorities.
I heard that he had returned to Scotland and that he was preaching Calvinist doctrines in Edinburgh.
He’s a fiery man with strong opinions, not a comfortable man. ”
“I wish him luck in Scotland,” Francis said drily. “It’s under the heel of the French and the Catholic faith is entrenched there, and looks to remain so with the young Queen of Scots married to the Dauphin and living in France.”
“With her mother acting as regent in Scotland!”
“Aye. The British Isles are in the grip of two obstinate, backward-looking women.”
“But the situation in England may change,” Kate said. “That is what we are hoping for.”
“We all want to go home,” Susan chimed in. “I have heard that Queen Mary is not in the best of health.”
“I would never pray for someone to die,” Kate said, “but I am sorely tempted. Think of the suffering she has caused, the lives she has ruined. Because of her, I am forced to live apart from five of my children. I worry about them every day. If it wasn’t for your generous charity, I don’t know what would become of us. ”
“Think nothing of it,” boomed their host. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”
“It is a shame that you missed the Duchess of Suffolk,” Susan said. “She and her family stayed here earlier this month on their way to Poland, where she has been offered a refuge. Queen Mary’s agents were after her, for she had defied an order to return to England, and she was lucky to escape.”
Francis and Kate exchanged a long look. It seemed that no one was safe, anywhere.
“Do you think we will be troubled while we are here?” Kate asked nervously.
“By English bullies? They’ll have to get past me first,” Master Weller said defiantly. “No, you’ll be safe with us.”
Kate sincerely hoped so. She was weary of looking over her shoulder all the time and she wanted her children to lead normal lives.
“No one knows we are here,” Francis said. “I want it to stay that way. Kate, when you write to friends in England, especially the lady at Hatfield, don’t reveal our whereabouts.”
“I won’t,” Kate promised, thinking that she would write to Elizabeth and the children, but tell them that, for safety, they couldn’t write to her. It was going to be hard, not hearing from them, but it was for the best.