IV
WHICH MAY BE PASSED OVER LIGHTLY
When I came back to some clearer sensing of things, I found myself abedin a room which was strange and yet strangely familiar. Barring a greatoaken clothes-press in one corner, a raree-show of curious china on theshelves where the books should have been, and the face of an armoredsoldier staring down at me from its frame over the chimney piece, whereI should have looked to see my mother's portrait, the room was acounterpart of my old bedchamber at Appleby Hundred. There was even afaint odor of lavender in the bed-linen; and the sense of smell, whichhath ever a better memory than any other, carried me swiftly back to myboyhood, and to the remembrance that my mother had always kept a sprayor two of that sweet herb in her linen closet.
At the bedside there was a claw-footed table, which also had the look ofan old friend; and on it a dainty porringer, filled with cuttings offragrant sweetbriar. This was some womanly conceit, I said to myself;and then I laughed, though the laugh set a pair of wolf's jaws at workon my shoulder. For you must know that I had lived the full half of KingDavid's span of three-score and ten years, and more, and what womanlysoftness had fallen to my lot had been well got and paid for.
I closed my eyes the better to remember what had befallen, and when Iopened them again was fain to wonder if the moment of back-reachingstood not for some longer time. In the deep bay of the window was agreat chair of Indian wickerwork, and I could have sworn it had but nowbeen empty. Yet when I looked again a woman sat in it.
Now of a truth I had seen this woman's face but twice; and once it worea smile of teasing mockery and once was full of terror; but I thought Ishould live long and suffer much before the winsome challenging beautyof it would let me be as I had been before I had looked upon it.
She knew not that I was awake and slaking the thirst of my eyes upon thesweetness of her, and so I saw her then as few ever saw her, I think,with the womanly barriers of defense all down. 'Tis a hard test, and onethat makes a blank at rest of many a face beautiful enough in action;but though this lady's face was to the full as changeful as any Aprilsky, it was never less than triumphantly beautiful.
I had said her eyes were blue, but now they were deep wells reflectingthe soft gray of the clouded sky beyond the window-panes. I had madesure that her lips lent themselves most readily to mocking smilesscornful of any wit less trenchant than her own; but now these mockinglips were pensive, and with the rounded cheek and chin gave her the lookof a sweet child wanting to be kissed. I had said her hair was bright inthe sunlight, and so, indeed, it was; but lacking the sun it still heldthe dull luster of burnished copper in its masses, and her simple,care-free dressing of it at a time when _les grandes dames_ werefrizzing and powdering and adding art to art to mar the woman's crown ofglory, gave her yet more the look of a child.
Lastly, I had called her small, and certainly her figure was girlishbeside those grenadier dames of Maria Theresa's court to whom my oldfield-marshal had once presented me. But when she rose and went to standin the window-bay I marked this; that not any duchess or margravine ofthem all had a more queenly bearing, or, with all their stays andfurbelows, could match her supple grace and lissom figure.
What with the blood-lettings and the wound fever, coupled with thesubtle witchery of her presence thus in my sick room, it is little to bewondered at that a curious madness came over me, or that I forgot forthe moment the loyalty due to my dear lad. Could I have stood before herand, reading but half consent in the deep-welled eyes, have clipt her inmy arms and laid my lips to hers, I would have run to pay the price, inearth or heaven or hell, I thought, deeming the fierce joy of it wellworth any penalty.
At this I should have stirred, I suppose, for she came quickly andstood beside me.
"You have slept long and well, Captain Ireton," she said; and in all thethrilling joy of her nearer presence I found space to mark that hervoice had in it that sweet quality of sympathy which is all womanly."They say I am good only to fetch and carry--may I fetch you anything?"
I fear the madness of the moment must still have been upon me, for Isaid: "Since you are here yourself, dear lady, I need naught else."
At a flash I had my whipping in a low dipped curtsy and a mocking smilelike that she had flung to Falconnet.
"_Merci! mon Capitaine_," she said; and for all my wincings under thesharp lash of her sarcasm I was moved to wonder how she had the Frenchof it. And then she added: "Is it the custom for Her Apostolic Majesty'sofficers to come out of a death-swound only to pay pretty compliments?"
"'Twas no compliment," I denied; and, indeed, I meant it. Then I askedwhere I was, and to whom indebted, though I had long since guessed theanswer to both questions.
In a trice the mocking mood was gone and she became my lady hostess,steeped to her finger-tips in gracious dignity.
"You are at Appleby Hundred, sir. 'Twas here they fetched you becausethere was no other house so near, and you were sorely hurt. RichardJennifer and my black boy made a litter of the saddle-cloths, and withSir Francis and Mr. Tybee to help--"
I think she must have seen that this thrust was sharper than that of theGerman long-sword, for she stopped in mid-sentence and looked away fromme. And, surely, I thought it was the very irony of fate that I shouldthus be brought half dead to the house that was my father's, with myenemy and his second to share the burden of me.
"But your father?" I queried, when the silence had grown over-long.
"My father is away at Queensborough, so you must e'en trust yourself tomy tender mercies, Captain Ireton. Are you strong enough to have yourwound dressed?"
She asked, but waited for no answer of mine. Summoning a black boy tohold the basin of water, she fell to upon the wound-dressing with aslittle ado as if she had been a surgeon's apprentice on a battle-field,and I a bloodless ancient too old to thrill at the touch of a woman'shands.
"Dear heart! 'tis a monstrous ugly hurt," she declared, replacing thewrappings with deft fingers. "How came you to go about picking a quarrelwith Sir Francis?"
"'Twas not of my seeking," I returned, and then I could have cursed myfoolish tongue.
"Is that generous, Captain Ireton? We hear something of the talk of thetown, and that says--"
"That says I struck him without sufficient cause. I am content to let itstand so."
"Nay, but you should not be content. Is there not strife enough in thisunhappy land without these causeless bickerings?"
Here was my lady turned preacher all in a breath and I with no words toanswer her. But I could not let it go thus.
"I knew Sir Francis Falconnet in England," said I, hoping by this toturn her safe aside.
"Ah; then there was a cause. Tell it me."
"Nay, that I may not."
Though she was hurting me sorely in the wound-dressing, and knew it, shelaughed.
"'Tis most ungallant to deny a lady, sir. But I shall know without thetelling; 'twas about a woman. Tell me, Captain Ireton, is she fair?"
Seeing that her mood had changed again, I tried to give her quip forjest; but what with the pain of the sword-thrust and the sweet agony ofher touches I could only set my teeth against a groan. She went ondrawing the bandagings, little heedful how she racked me, I thought; andyet when all was done she stood beside me all of a tremble, as anytender-hearted woman might.
"There," she said; "'tis over for a time, and I make no doubt you areglad enough. Now you have nothing to do save to lie quiet till itheals."
"And how long will that be, think you?"
"We shall see; a long time, I hope. You shall be punished properly foryour hot temper, I promise you, Captain Ireton."
With that she left me and went to stand in the window-bay; and fromlying mouse-still and watching her over-steadily I fell asleep again.When I awoke the day was in its gloaming and she was gone.
After this I saw her no more for six full circlings of the clock-hands,and grew fair famished for a sight of her sweet face. But to atone, she,or some messenger of Richard Jennifer's, brou
ght me my faithful Darius,and he it was who fetched me my food and drink and dressed my wound.From him I gleaned that the master of Appleby Hundred had returned fromQueensborough, and that there were officers in red coats continuallygoing back and forth, always with a hearty welcome from Gilbert Stair.
Now, though the master of my stolen heritage had little cause to loveme, I thought he had still less to fear me; so it seemed passing strangethat he came not once to my bedchamber to pass the time of day with hisunbidden guest, or to ask how he fared. But in this, as in many otherthings, I reckoned without my enemy, though I might have known that SirFrancis would be oftenest among the red-coated officers coming andgoing.
But stranger than this, or than my lady's continued avoidance of me, wasthe lack of a visit from Richard Jennifer. Knowing well my dear lad'sloyalty to the patriot cause, I could only conjecture that he hadfinally broken Margery's enforced truce to go and join Mr. Rutherford'smilitia, which, as Darius told me, was rallying to attack a Torystronghold at Ramsour's Mill.
With this surmise I was striving to content myself on that evening ofthe third day, when Mistress Margery burst in upon me, bright-eyed andwith her cheeks aflame.
"Captain Ireton, I will know the true cause of this quarrel which,failing in yourself, you pass on to Richard Jennifer!" she cried. "Wasit not enough that you should get yourself half slain, without sendingthis headstrong boy to his death?"
Now in all my surmisings I had not thought of this, and truly if she hadsought far and wide for a whip to scourge me with she could have foundno thong to cut so deep.
"God help me!" I groaned. "Has this fiend incarnate killed my poor lad?"
"No, he is not dead," she confessed, relenting a little. "But he has thebaronet's bullet through his sword-arm for the sake of your over-seasdisagreement with Sir Francis."
I could not tell her that though my quarrel with this villain was butthe avenging of poor Dick Coverdale's wrongs, Richard Jennifer's was forthe baronet's affront to her. So I bore the blame in silence, gladenough to be assured that my dear lad was only wounded.
"Why don't you speak, sir?" she snapped, flying out at me in a passionfor my lack of words.
"What should I say? I have not forgot that once you called meungenerous."
"You should defend yourself, if you can. And you should ask my pardonfor calling my father's guest hard names."
"The last I will do right heartily. 'Twas but the simple truth, but itwas ill-spoken in your presence, Mistress Stair."
At this she laughed merrily; and in all my world-wanderings I had neverheard a sound so gladsome as this sweet laugh of hers when she would beon the forgiving hand.
"Surely any one would know you are a soldier, Captain Ireton. No othercould make an apology and renew the offense so innocently in the samebreath." Then her mood changed again in the dropping of an eyelid, andshe sighed and said: "Poor Dick!"
As ever when she was with me, my eyes were devouring her; and at thesigh and the trembling of the sweet lips in sympathy I found thatcurious love-madness coming upon me again. Then I saw that I muststraightway dig some chasm impassable between this woman and me, as Ishould hope to be loyal to my friend. So I said: "He loves you well,Mistress Margery."
She glanced up quickly with a smile which might have been mocking orloving; I could not tell which it was.
"Did he make you his deputy to tell me so, Captain Ireton?"
Now I might have known that she was only luring me on to some pitfall ofmockery, but I did not, and must needs burst out in some clumsydisclaimer meant to shield my dear lad. And in the midst of it shelaughed again.
"Oh, you do amuse me mightily, _mon Capitaine_," she cried. "I doprotest I shall come to see you oftener. Tis as good as any play!"
"Saw you ever a play in this backwoods wilderness?" I asked, glad of anyexcuse to change the talk and keep her by me.
"No, indeed. But you are not to think that no one has seen the greatworld save only yourself, Captain Ireton. What would you say if I shouldtell you that I, too, have seen your London, and even your Paris?"
Here I must blunder again and say that I had been wondering how else shecame by the Parisian French; but at this her jesting mood vanishedsuddenly and she spoke softly.
"I had it of my mother, who came of the Huguenots. She spoke it alwaysto me. But my father speaks it not, and now I am losing it for want ofpractice."
How is it that love transforms the once contemptible into a thing mosthighly to be prized? My eight years of campaigning on the Continent hadgiven me the French speech, or so much of it as the clumsy tongue of mecould master, and I had always held it in hearty English scorn. Yet nowI was eager enough to speak it with her, and to take as my very own thelittle cry of joy wherewith she welcomed my hesitant mouthing of it.
From that we fell to talking in her mother's tongue of the hardships ofthose same Huguenot _emigres_; and when I looked not at her I couldspeak in terms dispassionate and cool of this or aught else; and when Ilooked upon her my heart beat faster and my blood leaped quickly, and Iknew not always what it was I said.
After a time--'twas when Darius fetched me my supper and thecandles--she went away; and so ended a day which saw the beginning of astruggle fiercer than any the turbaned Turk had ever given me. For whenI had eaten, and was alone with time to think, I knew well that I lovedthis woman and should always love her; this in spite of honor, orloyalty to Richard Jennifer, or any other thing in heaven or earth.
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