CHAPTER XIX.
KNAVE AGAINST GENTLEMAN.
"Who shall take your word? A whoreson, upstart, apocryphal captain, Whom not a Puritan in Blackfriars will trust So much as for a feather." --_The Alchemist._
Cutting Tom was struck motionless at sight of the captain; but, after amoment, reassuring himself by a look at Jerningham, he led his captiveinto the hall. His men followed. The group came to a halt ere any onefound voice.
Ravenshaw, recovering a little from his surprise, was about to hurl aquestion at Cutting Tom, when his tongue was stayed by his seeing themaid's eyes turn with blazing indignation upon himself, and her lipsopen to speak.
"So, then, it is your work!" she said.
"My work?" quoth the captain, in a maze, dropping his chicken.
"No doubt you spied upon poor Master Holyday, and corrupted theserogues he trusted in," she went on; and then, giving way, she wept:"Oh, God! into whose hands have I fallen!"
Ravenshaw quailed at her tears; but suddenly stiffened himself, setdown his lantern, and said wrathfully to Cutting Tom:
"What means this, knave? Why came you here? Where is--the gentleman youserve? Speak, thou slave, or by--"
But Millicent, coming swiftly out of her tears, cried, scornfully:
"Think not to blind me, thou villain! The gentleman is where you badethese wretches leave him,--in the woods, robbed,--mayhap slain! Alas,having seen his fate, what may I expect for myself!" And again she fellinto lamentations.
"I understand this not," said Ravenshaw. "Cutting Tom, thou blunderinghound, why bring you this maid to this place, and to me?"
"Oh, out upon pretense!" cried Millicent. "Thinkst thou I am so greata fool as not to see? God send I were Sir Peregrine's wife rather thansuch a villain's captive!"
"Mistress, I know not why you are here, nor what hath befallen MasterHolyday. There is some mistake or falseness, which I shall worm outof this tongue-tied knave; but first assure yourself you are not mycaptive."
"Oh, peace! As if this fellow, whom you call by name, and who cringesbefore you, had not turned treacherous!"
"Ten to one he hath turned treacherous, and dear he shall pay for it;but he hath not turned so at my instigation."
"Oh, no more, I pray. Even this fellow is not bold-faced enough to denyit is for you he has betrayed us. God knows what is to become of me,a prisoner in your hands, without a soul that knows my whereabouts toprotect me!"
At this, Master Jerningham, who had kept still while an inspirationperfected itself in his mind, stepped courteously forward, and said,with grave sympathy:
"Not so, mistress. I, the master of this house, will protect you in it."
She looked at him in surprise. His was a face she recalled vaguely ashaving seen, or faces more or less resembling it, in the streets ofLondon, or in churches, or other public places; but it was not a faceshe had ever had reason to note carefully. Whatever were the forgottenoccasions upon which she may have observed it, as she had observedten thousand faces worth a careless second glance, the night of heradventure in February was not one of them; for on that night, besideskeeping himself in shadow, and leaving all talk to Sir Clement Ermsby,Jerningham had hidden his countenance under the brim of a great Spanishhat. So his face at this moment, appearing as that of a stranger,awakened in her mind no association either pleasant or unpleasant; initself, it wore so serious and sweet a smile, and the manner of itsowner was so quietly chivalrous, that Millicent's feelings promptlydeclared in its favour. A sudden sense of safety came over her,depriving her for a moment of speech. Then she murmured, unsteadily:
"Master of this house, say you?"
"Ay, mistress, but no conspirator in your being brought here. I amnot often at the place; this man hath newly arrived as steward; Icame to-night without warning, no more expecting to see strangers inmy house than he expected to see me. I know not what hath been afoot;but Heaven must have sent me here, if my coming has saved you from amischief."
He offered her his hand. Cutting Tom had already released her arm.After a moment, she took the hand, and allowed Jerningham to lead herto a seat by the table. As she scanned his features, an increasingtrustfulness appeared in her own.
"Sir," she faltered, deeply relieved and grateful, "I must thank Heavenfor my deliverance. To find a gentleman--after these rascals--"
She cast a glance at Ravenshaw, and trembled to think what manner ofman she had escaped; for indeed at that instant the captain looked likethe very devil.
"He deliver you!" exclaimed Ravenshaw, as soon as his feelingspermitted him to speak calmly. "Why, he is of all men the one you mostneed deliverance from!"
Jerningham smiled with tolerant contempt. "I scarce think you willbelieve that, mistress," said he, lightly, "seeing how completely I ama stranger to you."
"Believe him?" she replied, scornfully. "He is the prince of cozeners;he is all made of lies and shifts. I know not how he hath come to besteward to a gentleman; belike you know not of him; perchance he hathpassed upon you by another name, as he did upon us; he is CaptainRavenshaw."
"To say truth, mistress, I knew him; but I little thought--"
"Knew me?" said Ravenshaw, with a laugh. "Ay, indeed. Well enough forme in turn to know his designs against yourself, mistress; from which,as from marriage with that old dotard, I had hoped to see you saved. Asfor your being brought here, ask these men. Find your tongue, CuttingTom, and explain this."
"Why, of a truth," said Cutting Tom, slowly, finding courage in asignificant glance from Jerningham, "I know not what you would have meexplain. I am but a dull-witted man; if you had only told me beforehandwhat to say--"
"'Tis too clear these knaves acted by your orders, captain,"interrupted Jerningham.
"Why, yes, so we did, and that's the hell of it," said Cutting Tom.
"Liar and slave!" cried Ravenshaw, half drawing his sword; but hecontrolled himself, and said: "'Tis plain that you, Master Jerningham,have bought this knave, though 'tis beyond my ken how you learned whathe was to be about to-night. Mistress, I swear to you, the man whointends you harm is he that you put your trust in; the man who wouldsave you is he that you revile and disbelieve."
"Mistress," said Jerningham, ignoring this speech, "wherever you havecome from, wherever you would go, 'tis now too late in the night toleave this house. Shall I conduct you to a chamber where you will besafe and alone? Your ears need not then be assailed by the rude talk ofthis man. Surely you will not doubt me upon his wild words?"
"Nay," said she, rising compliantly, "I heed not his words."
"For proof of them," said the captain, "let me tell you that thisgentleman employed me to be his go-between with you."
She blushed. Jerningham said: "Oh, villain! You have the devil'sinvention, I think. You would make yourself out a worse knave, that youmight make her distrust me. Mistress, if you have the smallest fear--"
"Sir, God forbid I should doubt a gentleman on the word of a knownrascal!"
Jerningham led her by the hand toward the corridor at the right.But the captain, not delayed by his momentary reflection upon theoccasional inconvenience of a bad reputation, sprang ahead of them, andtook his place at the corridor entrance, grasping his sword. MasterJerningham instantly drew back with the maid, in a manner implying thatthe captain's threatening action was as much directed against her ashim. He hastened with her toward the opposite passage, but Ravenshawwas again beforehand. Jerningham thereupon conducted her to the frontpart of the hall. It was not his desire to release her hand, as hemust needs do if he himself fought Ravenshaw at this juncture. He didnot wish to call in Ermsby yet, fearing the effect her recognitionof that gallant might have upon her confidence in himself. His owntwo followers in the hall were armed only with knives. Cutting Tom,the disguised Gregory, and their three companions, were his men inreality; but he must seemingly win them over before using them, lestshe perceive they indeed acted for him in giving this direful turn toher elopement.
"Thou whom he calls Cutting To
m," said Jerningham, "thou and thyfellows,--ye have done a dangerous thing for your necks in conveyingthis lady hither against her will."
"Sir, I know it," replied Tom. "But I was led by my needs, and these myfollowers knew nothing of the business. I take you to be a gentlemanthat has power in the world. I beg of you, now that the villainy hasfailed, deal not too hardly with us."
"It lies with yourselves. If you be minded to undo the villainy, toserve me in my protection of this maid--"
"We will, we will! and thank your good worship!" said Tom, quickly,and turned to his men with a look which elicited from them a chorus ofconfirmatory "ayes," supported by a variety of oaths.
"Then seize that man, till I pass with this lady," said Jerningham, ina decided tone. "To him, all of ye,--Meadows and Goodcole, too!"
Cutting Tom and his men drew their swords; having first attached theirlanterns and torch to wall-sconces, and dropped the bundle of Holyday'sclothes. The party advanced upon Ravenshaw, being joined by Meadowsand Goodcole, which twain preferred wisely that the bearers of longerweapons should precede them into the captain's immediate neighbourhood.Tom himself went rather shufflingly, doubtless willing to giveopportunity for any more impetuous comrade to be more forward in thematter. But the other men were no more eager than he to be first;and so the movement, beginning with some show of a fearless rush,deteriorated in a trice to a hesitating shamble. At two steps from thecaptain, the party came to a stop.
"Ho, dogs, will ye come dancing up to me so gaily?" cried Ravenshaw."Dance back again as fast!" His rapier leaped out, and sang againstthree of their own blades in the time of a breath.
All seven of the men, appalled at his sudden onslaught, stepped hastilyback. The captain strode forward. The fellows increased their backwardpace. He followed. They turned in a kind of panic, and ran pell-mellfor the front door. Laughing loudly at their retreat, Ravenshawstopped, as he was in no mind to be drawn outside while Millicentremained within. At sound of his laugh, the fellows turned and stoodabout the doorway with their weapons in defence.
"Sir," said Ravenshaw, turning to Master Jerningham, "I pray you, lookupon this maid; consider her youth and her innocence. Will you marsuch an one a lifetime, to pleasure yourself an hour? As you are agentleman, I ask you, give her up."
"Do not give me up to him!" she said, affrightedly, clinging closer toJerningham.
Ravenshaw shook his head in sorrow. "Ah, mistress, that you shouldthink I would harm you! If you but knew--but for what you think of me,no matter. 'Tis a cruel twist of circumstance that you should opposehim that would save you, and cleave to him that would destroy you. Youwould know how the affair stands, if there were a spark of truth to befound among these knaves and traitors. Oh, for a gleam of honesty! Howfoul falsehood looks when it has the whole place to itself!"
A whinny of impatience was heard from the horse waiting outside.
"'Tis high time you were in the saddle, captain," said Jerningham."Come, man; I will forget your attempt upon this maid, since no harmhas followed. And she, too, will forget it, if she take my counsel.Will you trust your welfare in this matter to me, mistress?"
"Entirely," answered Millicent, in a low voice.
"Oh, mistress, how you are deceived!" said Ravenshaw. "What can I do tosave you?"
She shrank back from his look.
"Fear not, mistress," said Jerningham, softly. "Come, come, captain, anend, an end! Time is hastening. I pray you, be off upon your ride toDover."
"Dover!" echoed the captain, with a strange laugh. "Ride to Dover! ByGod's death, things have changed in the past ten minutes! I shall notride to Dover, thank your worship! not this night! I shall stay hereto save this lady in spite of herself!--in spite of herself and of youall, good gentlemen!"
"Is this your promise, you rascal?" exclaimed Jerningham. "You gaveyour word to ride forthwith."
"And being a rascal, I claim a rascal's privilege to break his word!"cried Ravenshaw. "Away from that lady, or by this hand--"
He did not finish his threat, but made straightway for Jerningham. Thelatter ran with the maid to the farther side of the table, and whippedout his sword. Ravenshaw, in pursuing, turned his back to the fellowsat the doorway. "Upon him, men!" shouted Jerningham, and then, raisinghis voice still higher, called out: "Ho, Ermsby, to the rescue!"
Ravenshaw, trusting his ears to warn him of what threatened in therear, kept Jerningham's sword in play rather cautiously, for fear oftoo much endangering or frightening Millicent, who was pale as death.The girl, clinging to Jerningham, was thus rather a protection than anencumbrance to that gentleman. Very soon the captain heard the bustleof newcomers entering at the front door, and then a general movement,led by a more resolute tread than he had noticed before. He turned andfaced Sir Clement Ermsby, whom he recognised but vaguely as a personwith whom he had been in collision sometime in the past. He parried theknight's thrust, and guarded himself with his dagger from a lunge ofCutting Tom's. He then spun around on his heel, lest Jerningham mighteither pierce his back, or profit by the opportunity to take the maidaway.
Jerningham had chosen the latter course, but he was hindered by therush of some of his own men, who had run around the table in orderthat the captain might be surrounded. Thus checked for an instant, andin some way made sensible of Ravenshaw's last movement, Jerninghamturned back, and again engaged the captain. Ravenshaw was thus betweentwo forces, one headed by Jerningham, the other by Sir Clement. Heleaped upon the table, jumped to the floor on the other side, whilehalf a dozen blades darted after him; dragged the table to a corner,and turned to face his enemies from the little triangular space behindit. Led by Ermsby, they rushed upon him, thinking to find the table ofshort use as a bulwark against such numbers.
But Jerningham stood back out of the rush, still holding Millicent bythe hand, and shouted:
"Some keep him busy above the table; some thrust under at his legs. Letthe knave die, 'tis good time! I'll look to the comfort of the lady."And he started again toward the right-hand passage.
Ravenshaw bent forward across the table, and swept aside the pointsof steel with sword and dagger; but they threatened him anew, and heheard men scrambling under the table to stab his legs; he saw, betweentwo heads of his foes, Jerningham's movement toward the passage, and heshouted:
"Ho, rufflers, maunderers, upright men! a rescue! a rescue!"
Jerningham halted, somewhat wondering. The kitchen door flew open, and,with a hasty thumping of crutches, the beggars hobbled in, men andwomen, most of them with pewter cans, from which they had been regalingthemselves. At sight of these maimed creatures, with their frowsy hair,their gaunt looks, the red blotches and bandages of some, the whiteeyeballs of others, Millicent started back in horror. As the door bywhich they came in was near the passage toward which Jerningham wasleading her, and as they spread into a wide group in entering, theyblocked the way of her departure.
"Stop the gentry cove!" cried Ravenshaw. "In the name of the salamon,stand by a brother!"
The captain's assailants had drawn away a little to see who thenewcomers were. Having satisfied himself at a glance, Sir ClementErmsby laughed, and said: "A rescue, sooth! A bunch of refuse,--rottenpieces of men. Come, back to your work!" And he renewed the attackon Ravenshaw; while Jerningham, calling out, "Ay, to him! these behelpless cripples," started again for the passage, his sword-pointforward.
But with a wild whoop the beggars straightened out of their lameattitudes, swung their crutches and staves in the air, lost all regardof sores and patches, found arms for empty sleeves, showed keen eyeswhere white balls had plead for pity, threw off all the shams of theirprofession, and swept upon the captain's foes. A sturdy blow of a staffbore down Jerningham's rapier, a filching hook tore his dagger from hisother hand. Iron-shod crutches and staves rained upon the heads of SirClement and the other men; hooks caught their clothing, and draggedsome to the floor. When at close quarters, the beggars drew theirknives; the women fought like men. Millicent, separated from Jerninghamin the fray,
ran shrieking in the one direction open to her; this wastoward the corner at the right of the front door. Ravenshaw, dashingthrough the confusion, placed himself triumphantly at her side. Sheessayed to run from him; but he gently swept her with a powerful arminto the corner behind him.
"Oh, God, I am lost!" she cried, seeing Jerningham and his men broughtto pause by the sturdy wielders of staff, crutch, and knife.
Across the captain's mind flashed a wild project of bearing her awayin search of her uncle's house, which he knew was somewhere in theneighbourhood; but he heard a sudden fierce dash of the long-expectedrain against the rear windows, saw how faint and exhausted she was,thought of the opposition she would offer, and considered the up-hillfight he would have to wage against an enemy desperate with the fear oflosing his prey. He had a better idea,--one in which prowess might besupplemented with craft.
Quite near him, in the wall at his right hand, was the open door tothe porter's room which he had noticed upon arriving at the house; ithad no other means of entrance or exit, its high-placed window being amere slit. He purposely moved a little to the left. Millicent, seeingan opening, glided along the wall to escape him. He sprang forward,and confronted her just at the door of the porter's room. Recoilingfrom him, she instinctively darted through the door. "Good!" cried thecaptain, taking his place in the doorway, his face to the hall.
Millicent, in the little room, sank upon a pallet, which was its onlyfurniture, and put out her hands to keep the captain from approachingher. But she saw that he had stopped at the threshold, with his back toher. It was, indeed, no part of his plan to follow her into the room.
Jerningham, startled at the maid's sudden disappearance, ran forwardwith a cry of rage; but Ravenshaw met sword and dagger with sword anddagger, and Jerningham was fain to draw back to save his body. Mattersthereupon resumed a state of abeyance, during which men recoveredbreath, regained their feet, and took account of bleeding heads andflesh wounds.
"Hark you!" spoke the captain, in a tone meant for her as well as forJerningham. "It is now for us to prove which of us means this lady noharm. Let her abide where she is, till the storm and the night arepast; then, together, we'll conduct her to her friends. And meanwhile,the man who attempts to enter this room declares himself her enemy."
Jerningham's face showed the rage of temporary defeat. "Then come fromthe door there," he said, sullenly, for want of a better speech.
"Nay, for this night I am the door here,--though she may close thiswooden door an she please. These"--his sword and dagger--"she'll findtrue bolts and bars. She may e'en sleep, if she will,--there's a palletto lie on."
Sitting weak and perplexed on the pallet in the dark little apartment,she wondered what purpose the captain might be about.
At the suggestion of sleep, Jerningham had an idea. Pretending toconfer in whispers with Sir Clement, he secretly beckoned Gregory,who was still in his false beard. The servant approaching withoutappearance of intent, Jerningham, still under cover of talking toErmsby, asked in undertone for the sleeping potion which Gregory was tohave obtained. The lackey transferred a phial in an unperceived mannerto his master's hand. Pocketing it in triumph, Jerningham turned to thecaptain:
"We shall see how honestly you mean, then. And that the lady may restfreer of annoyance, send these knaves of yours out of her hearing, backto their ale."
"With all my heart--when you send away your knaves also."
"I will do so; but fear not, mistress," he called out. "I will notleave this hall. 'Tis all for the avoiding of bloodshed, and yourbetter comfort in the end."
"'Tis well, sir; I am not afraid," she answered, in a tired, tremblingvoice.
It was agreed that Jerningham's men should go into the room on theleft-hand side of the hall, diagonally opposite that in which the maidwas; that the beggars should return to the kitchen; that the signal forboth parties to withdraw should be given by Jerningham. He was about tospeak the word forthwith, when the captain interposed:
"By your leave, I'll first have private speech with my friends. Youhave already had with yours, and may have again ere they depart."
Jerningham saw no way of refusing, or, indeed, much reason therefor;doubtless the captain wished but to counsel his rascals to be vigilantfor a possible second call. So Jerningham gave consent by silence.Ravenshaw had a conference with the beggars, in which chief parts weretaken by the white-bearded rogue and the ancient cripple who had guidedthe maunderers to the Grange.
Presently Ravenshaw signified that he had done; whereupon Jerninghamsaid "Begone," and the two parties filed out, each narrowly watchingthe other, Jerningham's men taking a torch with them, the beggarsclumping with their iron-tipped wooden implements. Only Ravenshawtook note that one of the lanterns disappeared with the beggars. Thecaptain, Jerningham, Mistress Meg, who had watched recent occurrencesfrom the kitchen door, and Sir Clement Ermsby were left in the hall.
"How?" quoth the captain, staring at the knight. "Do you break faith?Why go you not with the other men?"
"Troth, sir, I am nobody's man," replied Sir Clement. "I am thisgentleman's friend, and, when I choose, I fight for him; but my comingsand goings are not to be stipulated for by any man."
Ravenshaw perceived that a minor point had been scored against him; buthe was not much discomfited. He had merely to play for time, to guardthe doorway of that room for an unknown number of hours. As long as hecould temporise, two antagonists were no worse than one; if it came tofighting, two were a little worse, but, as both must attack in front,the odds were nothing out of his experience.
"Have we not met before this, sir?" asked Ravenshaw, scrutinisingErmsby.
"My memory is but so-so," replied Sir Clement, quizzically.
"Before God, I think we have," said the captain, "and upon oppositesides, too, as we are now. Would I could remember! I have had so manyquarrels, so many foes. I could swear you and I had clashed once upon atime."
Sir Clement, who remembered the meeting well enough, merely smiled asif amused at the captain's puzzlement. Ravenshaw drew a stool to thedoorway, and sat down, weapons still in hand. Sir Clement was leaningback against the table, at the opposite side of the hall, with foldedarms. He made mirth for himself by suggesting various impossible placeswhere the captain might have met him; while Jerningham, ever keepingthe corner of his eye on his enemy, went back and held a whisperedconversation with Meg.
"Fear not," said Jerningham, heeding the peremptory question in hereyes. "The maid is in yonder room. This captain, by a strange chance,knows her as one he hath designs against. He would neither have her gofree, nor taken back to her father. He thinks to find her at his mercy.But we shall outwit him, and no more fighting. 'Tis for you to--"
"One would think he was her friend," said Meg, glancing toward thecaptain.
"Poh! she fears him as he were the devil."
"Does he, then, desire her?" queried Meg, with a curious feignedunconcernedness of tone and look.
Jerningham regarded her with the silence of sudden discovery; then,restraining a smile, said, watchfully: "He is another's instrument, Ithink. Such a man's fancy would ne'er light upon a child; she is littlemore. A woman of your figure were more to his liking, I'll wager." Hepaused, to observe Meg's blush, which was not resentful; then he added,significantly: "If a woman were minded to make a fresh trial of life,with a brave husband now--"
"Well, and what then?" said she, looking him frankly in the eyes. "Howif a woman were? The man is not seeking a wife, ten to one."
"A few drops of this, mixed with a man's wine," said Jerningham,producing the phial in such manner that his body concealed it fromRavenshaw's view, "have been known to work a wonder."
"What is it?" she whispered, gazing at it.
"A love potion," he answered. "The surest in the world, too. 'Tis theone with which--" But he broke off, shook his head, and replaced thephial in his pocket.
"Let me have it," she whispered, excitedly.
"If you will swear to one thing."
"What?"
"That you will find means to use it this night."
"Why this night?"
He invented a reason. "So that, when it hath effect, you may use yourpower to draw him from that maid."
"I swear," she replied. He passed the phial to her, directed her indetail what to do, and returned to the front of the hall as if from amere conference upon household matters. Meg went back to the kitchen.She failed to notice there that one of the beggars, a very old man, wasmissing; or that the window-seat was wet, as if the casement had beenrecently opened and closed again. Nor could old Jeremy have called herattention to these matters, for upon their return the other beggars hadso crowded around him at the ale-cask that he had seen and heard onlythem and their clamours.
Ravenshaw and Sir Clement, having exhausted their topic ofconversation, were regarding each other in silence. Jerningham, as hiseyes fell upon the front door, suddenly exclaimed:
"The horse! Zounds, in this pelting rain--" He seized one of thelanterns and ran to the porch. "How now? The beast is not here!" Hecame back into the hall, looking puzzled.
"Perhaps the old man hath put him under roof," suggested Ermsby.
Jerningham went to the kitchen door and called Jeremy, who averred hehad not been near the horse since he had tied it outside the porch.
"'Twas ill tied, no doubt," said Jerningham, "and hath got loose andsought shelter. Belike you left the stable door open. Go and see; andlook in all the penthouses, too."
Jeremy went out. His return was awaited in silence, Jerningham pacingthe hall, Sir Clement staying motionless at the table's edge, Ravenshawsitting upon the stool before Millicent's room. She had not closedthe door; she remained upon the pallet, able to see a little of thehall, but herself out of the light that came in through the doorway.Her thoughts were in confusion; at last they became so clouded that,obeying the impulse of fatigue, she lay down on the pallet, withoutheed of the act; soon she was in a state between anxious waking and atroubled dream.
Jeremy came back, dripping, and said the horse was not to be found.
Berating him for stupidity, his master sent him back to the kitchen.Jerningham presently sat down upon a chair near the table against whichSir Clement stood. Slowly the minutes passed, while the heavy beatof the rain against the casements was the only sound. Once Jerninghamcalled out: "Is all well with you, mistress?"
Millicent, brought to a sense of her whereabouts after a moment'sbewilderment, answered: "Yes, I thank you." The silence fell again.
At last Jerningham said to Sir Clement: "Those rascals yonder need nothave all the good cheer to themselves. There's better drink than aleleft in the house." He rose, and summoned Meg from the kitchen.
"Fetch wine," said he. Meg, returning to the kitchen, presentlyreappeared therefrom with a flagon and a pewter drinking cup.
"First fill a cup, I pray you," said Jerningham, "and carry it to thelady in yonder room."
She poured out a cupful, set the flagon on the table, and approachedthe door at which Ravenshaw sat.
"Nay, you shall not pass here," quoth the captain.
"What, will you deny the unhappy lady that small comfort?" saidJerningham, while Meg paused.
"No; I will convey it to her; but I'll first see you drink a cup of thesame wine."
Jerningham shrugged his shoulders, took the cup from Meg, drained it,and turned it upside down. He then refilled it. Meg carried it to thecaptain, and held it close to his nostrils in handing it. He breathedits perfume, eyed it yearningly, then thrust his left hand with it intothe room.
"A cup of wine for you, mistress," called Jerningham.
Millicent, again roused from half-slumber, was too gracious to refuse;she took the cup, sipped, and passed it back to the captain's waitinghand. He noticed that the cup was nearly full, but gave it back to Meg,though a little reluctantly. Jerningham emptied it down his own throat,and filled it for Sir Clement, who made one long grateful draught ofthe contents.
"Fill for yourself, mistress," said Jerningham, affably. Meg shook herhead, but, nevertheless, proceeded to pour out another cupful. Herback was toward Ravenshaw as she did so, but there was nothing in thatto strike attention. What Jerningham and Sir Clement saw, however,was this: she held the cup with her thumb and little finger, againsther palm, so that her three other fingers lay across the top. Alongthe inside of her middle finger was placed the phial, a narrow tube,tied to the finger with fine thread; the open end of the phial wastoward the palm, which she had hitherto kept tight against it. But now,opening her fingers out above the rim of the cup as she poured thewine, she released a part of the phial's contents into the cup at thesame time. The sleight required but a moment.
She put down the flagon, transferred the cup to the other hand, andturned toward Ravenshaw.
"Eh? What?" exclaimed Jerningham, in feigned disapproval, reaching outfor the cup.
"Nay," said Meg, holding it away from him; "hospitality ever, even tothem you quarrel with!"
Whereupon she walked gravely over to the captain and offered him thecup.
Ravenshaw had thought he detected approbation of himself in thiswoman's looks at the time of his arrival; and now he thought he mightflatter himself the approbation still existed. Attributing all to hergood nature toward him, and not suspecting wine in the same vessel, andfrom the same flagon, as had supplied his enemies but a moment since,he grasped the cup with a hearty smile of gratitude, and emptied itswiftly down his throat.
Meg received back the cup, placed it on the table beside the flagon,and passed silently to the kitchen, followed by a faint smile ofmirth on the part of Jerningham. The smile was supplanted by a lookof expectant curiosity as Jerningham turned his eyes upon Ravenshaw.The captain sat as before, rapier in one hand, dagger in the other.Jerningham himself had resumed his chair near the table, and SirClement retained his old attitude. In the little room, Millicentrelapsed into a dreamy half-consciousness, wherein she seemed borneby rough winds through black and red clouds; the room appeared a vastspace wherein this occurred; and yet always she was vaguely aware ofher actual surroundings.
Ravenshaw felt serenely comfortable; a delicious ease of mind and bodycame over him; the beat of the rain softened into a soothing lull; thehall grew dark before him. He opened his eyes with a start, amazed athimself for having let them close. A mist seemed to fill the place;through it appeared the faces of his two enemies, a curious smilingexpression upon each.
"What is it?" cried the captain, sharply, and gave his head a shake tothrow off the drowsiness that invaded him.
Jerningham's eyes shone with elation.
"God's death, the wine!" cried Ravenshaw, staggering madly to his feet."Methought there was an aftertaste. Ye've played foul with me!"
He put his arms against the wall to keep himself from falling; hishead swayed, and sank forward; the floor seemed to yield beneath him;darkness surged in upon him, and for an instant he knew not where hewas or what he was about. But he flung himself back to life with afierce effort, and began walking vigorously back and forth in front ofhis doorway. He knew that his sole hope of resisting the drug, if itwas what he guessed, lay in constant action of body and mind.
Jerningham sat still; he had but to wait till the captain succumbed,delude Meg with the tale that the philtre sometimes began its operationby inducing a long sleep, find means to administer the rest of thepotion to Millicent, and carry out his original design. The beggarswere little to be feared without Ravenshaw; they would drink themselvesstupid, and on the morrow, while they were snoring or bousing, theunconscious maid could be carried to the ship. As for Ravenshaw, oncethe drug overcame him he would be virtually out of the world for twodays, at least. He could be locked in a chamber, and the beggarsinformed by Meg that he was gone. They would doubtless take themselvesoff when they had drunk the place dry. Meg would await with interestthe termination of the captain's sleep. Thus all would pass withoutbloodshed and without any scandal reaching the bishop's ears toosoon. Meanwhile, the slightest movement a
gainst Ravenshaw, or towardMillicent's room, was to be avoided; it would only stir the captainto action opposed to the effects of the drug. He was still strivingagainst those effects, pacing with rapid steps the small stretch offloor he allowed himself, and thrusting in the air with his weapons.
He was continually losing his mental grasp and regaining it witheffort. He wondered how they had contrived to drug his wine alone;doubtless the woman had the arts of a witch; a woman who talked solittle was not natural.
How if, in spite of all his resolution, the drug should prove toopotent for him? What of the maid then? He shuddered to think of herat the mercy of Jerningham, who had doubtless provided all means ofdealing with her in safety from consequences. Should he, Ravenshaw,consign her to the protection of the beggars? Without his masterful andresourceful presence, they were like to prove fickle rogues. Shouldhe remove Jerningham forthwith by killing him? If he did so, and thensuccumbed to the drug or to Jerningham's men, how might she fare atthe hands of the survivors, rascals on both sides? This friend ofJerningham's was the only gentleman in the house, and he was withoutdoubt a bird of Jerningham's feather. Where had the captain met himbefore? Ravenshaw, calling up anew his energies, stopped in his walkto stare at the man, and lurched toward him drunkenly. Suddenly thecaptain's face cleared, he stumbled back to the doorway, and cried:
"Mistress, look, look!"
So sudden and imperative a cry brought Millicent to the threshold,startled, white of face.
"Look!" went on Ravenshaw. "'Tis he--that night in the street--inFebruary--they would not let you go--but I compelled them! And onegave me the slip--a man with a Spanish hat--a thick-bearded--Ah! 'twasyou, you, you!" He had turned his gaze upon Jerningham. "That was thebeginning, I trow! Ah, mistress, who were your enemies that night, andwho was your friend?"
She stood bereft of speech, her hand against the door-post, recognisingSir Clement indeed, and dismayed at the frown--which to suddenlyenlightened eyes was a betrayal of the truth--on Jerningham's face.And then she wondered at the wild, drunken movements of Ravenshaw, whohad resumed his rapid pacing of the floor in a fresh struggle with thepersistent opiate.
"The man will never sleep," said Ermsby, in a low tone, to Jerningham."He will outwalk your medicine. You are not like to have him in a worsestate than he is in now. Let me put an end to him while he is thus."
"But Meg--" objected Jerningham.
"If I give him a thrust in my own quarrel, she cannot blame you. Come;my weapons are itching."
"Why do you wish to slay him?"
"For the sport of it, i' faith." Sir Clement's face lighted up withcruelty. "'Tis your only sure way. He'll walk out of this cloudpresently."
"As you will," said Jerningham, abruptly, after a moment's thought."But 'tis between you and him."
Sir Clement, without moving, said aloud to the captain:
"I remember our meeting. You boasted you could be my teacher with therapier. I knew not then you were Ravenshaw, the roaring captain; else Ihad not put off the lesson."
"Lesson--put off lesson--what lesson?" murmured the captain, dreamily,swaying and plunging as he strode.
"I said a time might come when I should see your skill," Ermsby wenton. "I am bound on a far journey to-morrow, and may never meet youagain." He drew his rapier and dagger, and stepped forward. "Come,knave! Remember your insolence that night; for I shall make you swallowit!"
However vague an impression the previous words had made on thecaptain's mind, the sight of sword and dagger in threatening positionroused and steadied him. Not fully sensible of how he had come tobe opposed by these weapons at this stage, he met them with thepromptitude of habit. The steel of his dagger clashed against theother's sword-point; his own rapier shot forth to be narrowly divertedin like manner. There was exchange of thrust and parry till the placesang with the ring of steel. The jocund heat of battle woke in thecaptain's blood, its fierce thrill gladdened his soul and invigoratedhis body. And yet he went as one in a dream, with the lurches ofa drunken man. But dazed as he appeared in countenance, wild anduncontrolled as his movements looked, his eye was never false as tothe swift dartings of his enemy's weapons, his hand never failed tomeet steel with steel. Some spirit within him, offspring of nature andpractice conjoined, seemed to clear his eye and guide his arm, howeverhis body plunged or his legs went awry.
Meg ran in from the kitchen at the first sound of steel. Jerninghamhastened back and drew her out of the way of the fighters, saying:
"They fell a-quarrelling; I could not part them. See what effect thepotion hath upon him; he should sleep now, but for this fighting. Ihope 'twill end without blood."
The beggars, now drunk, were looking over one another's heads fromthe kitchen, not daring to enter without the order; and Jerningham'smen, drawn from their dice by the noise, were crowded together beyondthe left-hand doorway. Jerningham hoped that Ravenshaw would yet, ina moment of exhaustion, yield to the opiate ere Sir Clement foundopportunity for a home thrust. So he stood with Meg at the fireplace,while Millicent, held by the interest and import of the scene, watchedfrom her threshold. The fighters tramped up and down the hall.
"Never with that thrust, good teacher!" said Ermsby, blocking apeculiar deviation of his opponent's blade from its apparent mark--hisright groin--toward his left breast.
"Nor you with that feint, boy!" retorted the captain, ignoring ahalf-thrust, and catching on his dagger the lightning-swift lunge thatfollowed.
Furiously they gave and took, panting, dripping with sweat, theirfaces red and tense, their blazing eyes fixed. Now the captain threwhimself forward when there seemed an opening in the other's guard; nowhe sprang back before a similar onslaught on his adversary's part. Heswayed and staggered, and sometimes appeared to stop himself in thenick of time from falling headlong, but always his attack and guardwere as true as those of Sir Clement, whose body and limbs moved asby springs of steel. It seemed as if neither's point could ever reachflesh, so sure and swift was the defence; the pair might have been cladin steel.
Ravenshaw had worked back to the front of the hall; suddenly he sprangforward, driving Sir Clement toward the fireplace. Ermsby made theusual feint, the usual swift-following lunge. Ravenshaw caught it,but with a sharp turn of the wrist that loosened his grip so thathis dagger was struck from his hand by the deflected sword-point. SirClement uttered a shout of triumph, and thereby put himself back in thegame by the hundredth part of a second; in that infinitesimal time thecaptain drove his old thrust home. Sir Clement dropped, limp and heavy,his cry of victory scarce having ceased to resound.
Ravenshaw turned fiercely about, his sword ready for new foes. Startledat the movement, Jerningham called his men to seize the slayer. Thecaptain shouted to the beggars. These came staggering in from thekitchen, but he saw they were helpless with drink. The white-beardedfellow was feebly brandishing a pistol which he had made ready forfiring,--the weapon he had pointed at Ravenshaw in the road. Thecaptain seized it, turned toward Jerningham's advancing adherents,and fired into the band. A man fell with a groan, but his comradespassed over him, and Millicent recognised, as his false beard becamedisplaced in his struggles, the fellow who had denounced Ravenshaw inher father's garden. The captain hurled himself upon the other men;brought down Cutting Tom with the sting of his rapier; felled Goodcolewith a blow of the pistol; dashed through the opening he had thus madein their ranks; pitched forward as if at last all sense had left him;spun around, and grasped at the air like one drowning, and fell heavilyagainst the front door, closing it with his weight. He stood leaning,his head hanging forward, his arms and jaw falling loose.
"No more, men!" cried Jerningham, though the half-dozen appalledsurvivors needed no command to refrain, any more than the beggars, whowere stumbling over their staves. "The knave hath slain Sir ClementErmsby, but he is done for, too. Now, mistress, for a better lodging!"
The captain, mistily, as if at a great distance, saw his enemy claspthe girl's waist. He tried to move, but could not even keep his feetsave
by bracing himself against the door. Suddenly, as the maid drewaway from Jerningham's face of hot desire, Ravenshaw was thrown forwardby a violent push of the door from without. Staggering to the table, heturned and looked. In stepped the old cripple, soaking wet; behind himwas a portly, fat-faced gentleman, followed by several rustic varletsarmed with pikes and broadswords. Lights flared in the porch, and withthe sound of the rain came that of snorting, pawing horses.
"Well met, Master Etheridge," spoke Ravenshaw, thickly. "Look to yourniece."
Jerningham stared in chagrin; Millicent ran with a cry of joy toher Uncle Bartlemy. Then the captain said, "Thank God, I may now goasleep!" and fell full length upon the floor.
Captain Ravenshaw; Or, The Maid of Cheapside. A Romance of Elizabethan London Page 22
