Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth

by Charles Kingsley

  CHAPTER IV

  THE TWO WAYS OF BEING CROST IN LOVE

  "I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more."--LOVELACE.

  And what all this while has become of the fair breaker of so manyhearts, to whom I have not yet even introduced my readers?

  She was sitting in the little farm-house beside the mill, buried in thegreen depths of the valley of Combe, half-way between Stow and Chapel,sulking as much as her sweet nature would let her, at being thusshut out from all the grand doings at Bideford, and forced to keep aMartinmas Lent in that far western glen. So lonely was she, in fact,that though she regarded Eustace Leigh with somewhat of aversion, and(being a good Protestant) with a great deal of suspicion, she could notfind it in her heart to avoid a chat with him whenever he came down tothe farm and to its mill, which he contrived to do, on I know not whatwould-be errand, almost every day. Her uncle and aunt at first lookedstiff enough at these visits, and the latter took care always to make athird in every conversation; but still Mr. Leigh was a gentleman'sson, and it would not do to be rude to a neighboring squire and a goodcustomer; and Rose was the rich man's daughter and they poor cousins,so it would not do either to quarrel with her; and besides, thepretty maid, half by wilfulness, and half by her sweet winning tricks,generally contrived to get her own way wheresoever she went; andshe herself had been wise enough to beg her aunt never to leave themalone,--for she "could not a-bear the sight of Mr. Eustace, onlyshe must have some one to talk with down here." On which her auntconsidered, that she herself was but a simple country-woman; and thattownsfolks' ways of course must be very different from hers; and thatpeople knew their own business best; and so forth, and let things goon their own way. Eustace, in the meanwhile, who knew well that thedifference in creed between him and Rose was likely to be the veryhardest obstacle in the way of his love, took care to keep his privateopinions well in the background; and instead of trying to convert thefolk at the mill, daily bought milk or flour from them, and gave itaway to the old women in Moorwinstow (who agreed that after all, fora Papist, he was a godly young man enough); and at last, having takencounsel with Campian and Parsons on certain political plots then onfoot, came with them to the conclusion that they would all three go tochurch the next Sunday. Where Messrs. Evan Morgans and Morgan Evans,having crammed up the rubrics beforehand, behaved themselves in a mostorthodox and unexceptionable manner; as did also poor Eustace, to thegreat wonder of all good folks, and then went home flattering himselfthat he had taken in parson, clerk, and people; not knowing in hissimple unsimplicity, and cunning foolishness, that each good wife in theparish was saying to the other, "He turned Protestant? The devil turnedmonk! He's only after Mistress Salterne, the young hypocrite."

  But if the two Jesuits found it expedient, for the holy cause in whichthey were embarked, to reconcile themselves outwardly to the powersthat were, they were none the less busy in private in plotting theiroverthrow.

  Ever since April last they had been playing at hide-and-seek through thelength and breadth of England, and now they were only lying quiet tillexpected news from Ireland should give them their cue, and a great"rising of the West" should sweep from her throne that stiff-necked,persecuting, excommunicate, reprobate, illegitimate, and profligateusurper, who falsely called herself the Queen of England.

  For they had as stoutly persuaded themselves in those days, as theyhave in these (with a real Baconian contempt of the results of sensibleexperience), that the heart of England was really with them, and thatthe British nation was on the point of returning to the bosom of theCatholic Church, and giving up Elizabeth to be led in chains to the feetof the rightful Lord of Creation, the Old Man of the Seven Hills.And this fair hope, which has been skipping just in front of them forcenturies, always a step farther off, like the place where the rainbowtouches the ground, they used to announce at times, in language whichterrified old Mr. Leigh. One day, indeed, as Eustace entered hisfather's private room, after his usual visit to the mill, he couldhear voices high in dispute; Parsons as usual, blustering; Mr. Leighpeevishly deprecating, and Campian, who was really the sweetest-naturedof men, trying to pour oil on the troubled waters. Whereat Eustace (forthe good of the cause, of course) stopped outside and listened.

  "My excellent sir," said Mr. Leigh, "does not your very presence hereshow how I am affected toward the holy cause of the Catholic faith? ButI cannot in the meanwhile forget that I am an Englishman."

  "And what is England?" said Parsons: "A heretic and schismatic Babylon,whereof it is written, 'Come out of her, my people, lest you be partakerof her plagues.' Yea, what is a country? An arbitrary division ofterritory by the princes of this world, who are naught, and come tonaught. They are created by the people's will; their existence dependson the sanction of him to whom all power is given in heaven andearth--our Holy Father the Pope. Take away the latter, and what is aking?--the people who have made him may unmake him."

  "My dear sir, recollect that I have sworn allegiance to QueenElizabeth!"

  "Yes, sir, you have, sir; and, as I have shown at large in my writings,you were absolved from that allegiance from the moment that the bull ofPius the Fifth declared her a heretic and excommunicate, and thereby tohave forfeited all dominion whatsoever. I tell you, sir, what I thoughtyou should have known already, that since the year 1569, England has hadno queen, no magistrates, no laws, no lawful authority whatsoever; andthat to own allegiance to any English magistrate, sir, or to plead in anEnglish court of law, is to disobey the apostolic precept, 'How dare yougo to law before the unbelievers?' I tell you, sir, rebellion is now notmerely permitted, it is a duty."

  "Take care, sir; for God's sake, take care!" said Mr. Leigh. "Right orwrong, I cannot have such language used in my house. For the sake of mywife and children, I cannot!"

  "My dear brother Parsons, deal more gently with the flock," interposedCampian. "Your opinion, though probable, as I well know, in the eyes ofmost of our order, is hardly safe enough here; the opposite is at leastso safe that Mr. Leigh may well excuse his conscience for accepting it.After all, are we not sent hither to proclaim this very thing, and torelieve the souls of good Catholics from a burden which has seemed tothem too heavy?"

  "Yes," said Parsons, half-sulkily, "to allow all Balaams who will tosacrifice to Baal, while they call themselves by the name of the Lord."

  "My dear brother, have I not often reminded you that Naaman was allowedto bow himself in the house of Rimmon? And can we therefore complain ofthe office to which the Holy Father has appointed us, to declare to suchas Mr. Leigh his especial grace, by which the bull of Pius the Fifth(on whose soul God have mercy!) shall henceforth bind the queen and theheretics only; but in no ways the Catholics, at least as long as thepresent tyranny prevents the pious purposes of the bull?"

  "Be it so, sir; be it so. Only observe this, Mr. Leigh, that our brotherCampian confesses this to be a tyranny. Observe, sir, that the bull doesstill bind the so-called queen, and that she and her magistrates arestill none the less usurpers, nonentities, and shadows of a shade. Andobserve this, sir, that when that which is lawful is excused to theweak, it remains no less lawful to the strong. The seven thousand whohad not bowed the knee to Baal did not slay his priests; but Elijah did,and won to himself a good reward. And if the rest of the children ofIsrael sinned not in not slaying Eglon, yet Ehud's deed was none theless justified by all laws human and divine."

  "For Heaven's sake, do not talk so, sir! or I must leave the room. Whathave I to do with Ehud and Eglon, and slaughters, and tyrannies? Ourqueen is a very good queen, if Heaven would but grant her repentance,and turn her to the true faith. I have never been troubled aboutreligion, nor any one else that I know of in the West country."

  "You forget Mr. Trudgeon of Launceston, father, and poor Father Mayne,"interposed Eustace, who had by this time slipped in; and Campian addedsoftly--

  "Yes, your West of England also has been honored by its martyrs, as wellas my London by the precious blood of Story."

&nbs
p; "What, young malapert?" cried poor Leigh, facing round upon his son,glad to find any one on whom he might vent his ill-humor; "are you tooagainst me, with a murrain on you? And pray, what the devil broughtCuthbert Mayne to the gallows, and turned Mr. Trudgeon (he was always afoolish hot-head) out of house and home, but just such treasonable talkas Mr. Parsons must needs hold in my house, to make a beggar of me andmy children, as he will before he has done."

  "The Blessed Virgin forbid!" said Campian.

  "The Blessed Virgin forbid? But you must help her to forbid it, Mr.Campian. We should never have had the law of 1571, against bulls, andAgnus Deis, and blessed grains, if the Pope's bull of 1569 had not madethem matter of treason, by preventing a poor creature's saving his soulin the true Church without putting his neck into a halter by denying thequeen's authority."

  "What, sir?" almost roared Parsons, "do you dare to speak evil of theedicts of the Vicar of Christ?"

  "I? No. I didn't. Who says I did? All I meant was, I am sure--Mr.Campian, you are a reasonable man, speak for me."

  "Mr. Leigh only meant, I am sure, that the Holy Father's prudentintentions have been so far defeated by the perverseness and invinciblemisunderstanding of the heretics, that that which was in itself meantfor the good of the oppressed English Catholics has been perverted totheir harm."

  "And thus, reverend sir," said Eustace, glad to get into his father'sgood graces again, "my father attaches blame, not to the Pope--Heavenforbid!--but to the pravity of his enemies."

  "And it is for this very reason," said Campian, "that we have broughtwith us the present merciful explanation of the bull."

  "I'll tell you what, gentlemen," said Mr. Leigh, who, like other weakmen, grew in valor as his opponent seemed inclined to make peace, "Idon't think the declaration was needed. After the new law of 1571 wasmade, it was never put in force till Mayne and Trudgeon made fools ofthemselves, and that was full six years. There were a few offenders,they say, who were brought up and admonished, and let go; but even thatdid not happen down here, and need not happen now, unless you put my sonhere (for you shall never put me, I warrant you) upon some deed whichhad better be left alone, and so bring us all to shame."

  "Your son, sir, if not openly vowed to God, has, I hope, a due senseof that inward vocation which we have seen in him, and reverences hisspiritual fathers too well to listen to the temptations of his earthlyfather."

  "What, sir, will you teach my son to disobey me?"

  "Your son is ours also, sir. This is strange language in one who owes adebt to the Church, which it was charitably fancied he meant to pay inthe person of his child."

  These last words touched poor Mr. Leigh in a sore point, and breakingall bounds, he swore roundly at Parsons, who stood foaming with rage.

  "A plague upon you, sir, and a black assizes for you, for you will cometo the gallows yet! Do you mean to taunt me in my own house with thatHartland land? You had better go back and ask those who sent you wherethe dispensation to hold the land is, which they promised to get meyears ago, and have gone on putting me off, till they have got my money,and my son, and my conscience, and I vow before all the saints, seem nowto want my head over and above. God help me!"--and the poor man's eyesfairly filled with tears.

  Now was Eustace's turn to be roused; for, after all, he was anEnglishman and a gentleman; and he said kindly enough, but firmly--

  "Courage, my dearest father. Remember that I am still your son, and nota Jesuit yet; and whether I ever become one, I promise you, will dependmainly on the treatment which you meet with at the hands of thesereverend gentlemen, for whom I, as having brought them hither, mustconsider myself as surety to you."

  If a powder-barrel had exploded in the Jesuits' faces, they could nothave been more amazed. Campian looked blank at Parsons, and Parsons atCampian; till the stouter-hearted of the two, recovering his breath atlast--

  "Sir! do you know, sir, the curse pronounced on those who, after puttingtheir hand to the plough, look back?"

  Eustace was one of those impulsive men, with a lack of moral courage,who dare raise the devil, but never dare fight him after he has beenraised; and he now tried to pass off his speech by winking and makingsigns in the direction of his father, as much as to say that he was onlytrying to quiet the old man's fears. But Campian was too frightened,Parsons too angry, to take his hints: and he had to carry his partthrough.

  "All I read is, Father Parsons, that such are not fit for the kingdom ofGod; of which high honor I have for some time past felt myself unworthy.I have much doubt just now as to my vocation; and in the meanwhile havenot forgotten that I am a citizen of a free country." And so saying, hetook his father's arm, and walked out.

  His last words had hit the Jesuits hard. They had put the poorcobweb-spinners in mind of the humiliating fact, which they have hadthrust on them daily from that time till now, and yet have never learntthe lesson, that all their scholastic cunning, plotting, intriguing,bulls, pardons, indulgences, and the rest of it, are, on this sidethe Channel, a mere enchanter's cloud-castle and Fata Morgana, whichvanishes into empty air by one touch of that magic wand, the constable'sstaff. "A citizen of a free country!"--there was the rub; and theylooked at each other in more utter perplexity than ever. At last Parsonsspoke.

  "There's a woman in the wind. I'll lay my life on it. I saw him blush upcrimson yesterday when his mother asked him whether some Rose Salterneor other was still in the neighborhood."

  "A woman! Well, the spirit may be willing, though the flesh be weak. Wewill inquire into this. The youth may do us good service as a layman;and if anything should happen to his elder brother (whom the saintsprotect!) he is heir to some wealth. In the meanwhile, our dear brotherParsons will perhaps see the expediency of altering our tactics somewhatwhile we are here."

  And thereupon a long conversation began between the two, who had beensent together, after the wise method of their order, in obedience to theprecept, "Two are better than one," in order that Campian might restrainParsons' vehemence, and Parsons spur on Campian's gentleness, and soeach act as the supplement of the other, and each also, it must beconfessed, gave advice pretty nearly contradictory to his fellow's ifoccasion should require, "without the danger," as their writers have it,"of seeming changeable and inconsistent."

  The upshot of this conversation was, that in a day or two (during whichtime Mr. Leigh and Eustace also had made the amende honorable, andmatters went smoothly enough) Father Campian asked Father Francis,the household chaplain, to allow him, as an especial favor, to hearEustace's usual confession on the ensuing Friday.

  Poor Father Francis dared not refuse so great a man; and assented withan inward groan, knowing well that the intent was to worm out somefamily secrets, whereby his power would be diminished, and the Jesuits'increased. For the regular priesthood and the Jesuits throughout Englandwere toward each other in a state of armed neutrality, which wanted butlittle at any moment to become open war, as it did in James the First'stime, when those meek missionaries, by their gentle moral tortures,literally hunted to death the poor Popish bishop of Hippopotamus (thatis to say, London) for the time being.

  However, Campian heard Eustace's confession; and by putting to him suchquestions as may be easily conceived by those who know anything aboutthe confessional, discovered satisfactorily enough, that he was whatCampian would have called "in love:" though I should question muchthe propriety of the term as applied to any facts which poor prurientCampian discovered, or indeed knew how to discover, seeing that a swinehas no eye for pearls. But he had found out enough: he smiled, and setto work next vigorously to discover who the lady might be.

  If he had frankly said to Eustace, "I feel for you; and if your desiresare reasonable, or lawful, or possible, I will help you with all myheart and soul," he might have had the young man's secret heart, andsaved himself an hour's trouble; but, of course, he took instinctivelythe crooked and suspicious method, expected to find the case the worstpossible,--as a man was bound to do who had been trained to take thelowest poss
ible view of human nature, and to consider the basest motivesas the mainspring of all human action,--and began his moral tortureaccordingly by a series of delicate questions, which poor Eustace dodgedin every possible way, though he knew that the good father was toocunning for him, and that he must give in at last. Nevertheless, like arabbit who runs squealing round and round before the weasel, into whosejaws it knows that it must jump at last by force of fascination, heparried and parried, and pretended to be stupid, and surprised, andhonorably scrupulous, and even angry; while every question as to herbeing married or single, Catholic or heretic, English or foreign,brought his tormentor a step nearer the goal. At last, when Campian,finding the business not such a very bad one, had asked something abouther worldly wealth, Eustace saw a door of escape and sprang at it.

  "Even if she be a heretic, she is heiress to one of the wealthiestmerchants in Devon."

  "Ah!" said Campian, thoughtfully. "And she is but eighteen, you say?"

  "Only eighteen."

  "Ah! well, my son, there is time. She may be reconciled to the Church:or you may change."

  "I shall die first."

  "Ah, poor lad! Well; she may be reconciled, and her wealth may be of useto the cause of Heaven."

  "And it shall be of use. Only absolve me, and let me be at peace. Letme have but her," he cried piteously. "I do not want her wealth,--not I!Let me have but her, and that but for one year, one month, one day!--andall the rest--money, fame, talents, yea, my life itself, hers if it beneeded--are at the service of Holy Church. Ay, I shall glory in showingmy devotion by some special sacrifice,--some desperate deed. Prove menow, and see what there is I will not do!"

  And so Eustace was absolved; after which Campian added,--

  "This is indeed well, my son: for there is a thing to be done now, butit may be at the risk of life."

  "Prove me!" cried Eustace, impatiently.

  "Here is a letter which was brought me last night; no matter fromwhence; you can understand it better than I, and I longed to have shownit you, but that I feared my son had become--"

  "You feared wrongly, then, my dear Father Campian."

  So Campian translated to him the cipher of the letter.

  "This to Evan Morgans, gentleman, at Mr. Leigh's house in Moorwinstow,Devonshire. News may be had by one who will go to the shore of Clovelly,any evening after the 25th of November, at dead low tide, and therewatch for a boat, rowed by one with a red beard, and a Portugal by hisspeech. If he be asked, 'How many?' he will answer, 'Eight hundred andone.' Take his letters and read them. If the shore be watched, let himwho comes show a light three times in a safe place under the cliffabove the town; below is dangerous landing. Farewell, and expect greatthings!"

  "I will go," said Eustace; "to-morrow is the 25th, and I know a sure andeasy place. Your friend seems to know these shores well."

  "Ah! what is it we do not know?" said Campian, with a mysterious smile."And now?"

  "And now, to prove to you how I trust to you, you shall come with me,and see this--the lady of whom I spoke, and judge for yourself whethermy fault is not a venial one."

  "Ah, my son, have I not absolved you already? What have I to do withfair faces? Nevertheless, I will come, both to show you that I trustyou, and it may be to help towards reclaiming a heretic, and saving alost soul: who knows?"

  So the two set out together; and, as it was appointed, they had just gotto the top of the hill between Chapel and Stow mill, when up the lanecame none other than Mistress Rose Salterne herself, in all the gloriesof a new scarlet hood, from under which her large dark languid eyesgleamed soft lightnings through poor Eustace's heart and marrow. Upto them she tripped on delicate ankles and tiny feet, tall, lithe, andgraceful, a true West-country lass; and as she passed them with apretty blush and courtesy, even Campian looked back at the fair innocentcreature, whose long dark curls, after the then country fashion, rolleddown from beneath the hood below her waist, entangling the soul ofEustace Leigh within their glossy nets.

  "There!" whispered he, trembling from head to foot. "Can you excuse menow?"

  "I had excused you long ago;" said the kindhearted father. "Alas, thatso much fair red and white should have been created only as a feast forworms!"

  "A feast for gods, you mean!" cried Eustace, on whose common sense thenaive absurdity of the last speech struck keenly; and then, as if toescape the scolding which he deserved for his heathenry--

  "Will you let me return for a moment? I will follow you: let me go!"

  Campian saw that it was of no use to say no, and nodded. Eustace dartedfrom his side, and running across a field, met Rose full at the nextturn of the road.

  She started, and gave a pretty little shriek.

  "Mr. Leigh! I thought you had gone forward."

  "I came back to speak to you, Rose--Mistress Salterne, I mean."

  "To me?"

  "To you I must speak, tell you all, or die!" And he pressed up close toher. She shrank back, somewhat frightened.

  "Do not stir; do not go, I implore you! Rose, only hear me!" Andfiercely and passionately seizing her by the hand, he poured out thewhole story of his love, heaping her with every fantastic epithet ofadmiration which he could devise.

  There was little, perhaps, of all his words which Rose had not heardmany a time before; but there was a quiver in his voice, and a fire inhis eye, from which she shrank by instinct.

  "Let me go!" she said; "you are too rough, sir!"

  "Ay!" he said, seizing now both her hands, "rougher, perhaps, than thegay gallants of Bideford, who serenade you, and write sonnets to you,and send you posies. Rougher, but more loving, Rose! Do not turn away!I shall die if you take your eyes off me! Tell me,--tell me, nowhere--this moment--before we part--if I may love you!"

  "Go away!" she answered, struggling, and bursting into tears. "This istoo rude. If I am but a merchant's daughter. I am God's child. Rememberthat I am alone. Leave me; go! or I will call for help!"

  Eustace had heard or read somewhere that such expressions in a woman'smouth were mere facons de parler, and on the whole signs that she had noobjection to be alone, and did not intend to call for help; and he onlygrasped her hands the more fiercely, and looked into her face with keenand hungry eyes; but she was in earnest, nevertheless, and a loud shriekmade him aware that, if he wished to save his own good name, he mustgo: but there was one question, for an answer to which he would risk hisvery life.

  "Yes, proud woman! I thought so! Some one of those gay gallants has beenbeforehand with me. Tell me who--"

  But she broke from him, and passed him, and fled down the lane.

  "Mark it!" cried he, after her. "You shall rue the day when you despisedEustace Leigh! Mark it, proud beauty!" And he turned back to joinCampian, who stood in some trepidation.

  "You have not hurt the maiden, my son? I thought I heard a scream."

  "Hurt her! No. Would God that she were dead, nevertheless, and I by her!Say no more to me, father. We will home." Even Campian knew enough ofthe world to guess what had happened, and they both hurried home insilence.

  And so Eustace Leigh played his move, and lost it.

  Poor little Rose, having run nearly to Chapel, stopped for very shame,and walked quietly by the cottages which stood opposite the gate, andthen turned up the lane towards Moorwinstow village, whither she wasbound. But on second thoughts, she felt herself so "red and flustered,"that she was afraid of going into the village, for fear (as she said toherself) of making people talk, and so, turning into a by-path, struckaway toward the cliffs, to cool her blushes in the sea-breeze. And therefinding a quiet grassy nook beneath the crest of the rocks, she sat downon the turf, and fell into a great meditation.

  Rose Salterne was a thorough specimen of a West-coast maiden, full ofpassionate impulsive affections, and wild dreamy imaginations, a fitsubject, as the North-Devon women are still, for all romantic and gentlesuperstitions. Left early without mother's care, she had fed her fancyupon the legends and ballads of her native land, till she believ
ed--whatdid she not believe?--of mermaids and pixies, charms and witches,dreams and omens, and all that world of magic in which most of thecountrywomen, and countrymen too, believed firmly enough but twentyyears ago. Then her father's house was seldom without some merchant, orsea-captain from foreign parts, who, like Othello, had his tales of--

  "Antres vast, and deserts idle, Of rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads reach heaven."

  And,--

  "And of the cannibals that each other eat, The anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders."

  All which tales, she, like Desdemona, devoured with greedy ears,whenever she could "the house affairs with haste despatch." And whenthese failed, there was still boundless store of wonders open to her inold romances which were then to be found in every English house of thebetter class. The Legend of King Arthur, Florice and Blancheflour, SirYsumbras, Sir Guy of Warwick, Palamon and Arcite, and the Romaunt of theRose, were with her text-books and canonical authorities. And lucky itwas, perhaps, for her that Sidney's Arcadia was still in petto, or Mr.Frank (who had already seen the first book or two in manuscript, andextolled it above all books past, present, or to come) would have surelybrought a copy down for Rose, and thereby have turned her poor littleflighty brains upside down forever. And with her head full of these, itwas no wonder if she had likened herself of late more than once to someof those peerless princesses of old, for whose fair hand paladins andkaisers thundered against each other in tilted field; and perhaps shewould not have been sorry (provided, of course, no one was killed) ifduels, and passages of arms in honor of her, as her father reasonablydreaded, had actually taken place.

  For Rose was not only well aware that she was wooed, but found the saidwooing (and little shame to her) a very pleasant process. Not that shehad any wish to break hearts: she did not break her heart for any of heradmirers, and why should they break theirs for her? They were all verycharming, each in his way (the gentlemen, at least; for she had longsince learnt to turn up her nose at merchants and burghers); but one ofthem was not so very much better than the other.

  Of course, Mr. Frank Leigh was the most charming; but then, as acourtier and squire of dames, he had never given her a sign of reallove, nothing but sonnets and compliments, and there was no trustingsuch things from a gallant, who was said (though, by the by, mostscandalously) to have a lady love at Milan, and another at Vienna, andhalf-a-dozen in the Court, and half-a-dozen more in the city.

  And very charming was Mr. William Cary, with his quips and his jests,and his galliards and lavoltas; over and above his rich inheritance;but then, charming also Mr. Coffin of Portledge, though he were a littleproud and stately; but which of the two should she choose? It would bevery pleasant to be mistress of Clovelly Court; but just as pleasant tofind herself lady of Portledge, where the Coffins had lived ever sinceNoah's flood (if, indeed, they had not merely returned thither afterthat temporary displacement), and to bring her wealth into a familywhich was as proud of its antiquity as any nobleman in Devon, and mighthave made a fourth to that famous trio of Devonshire Cs, of which it iswritten,--

  "Crocker, Cruwys, and Copplestone, When the Conqueror came were all at home."

  And Mr. Hugh Fortescue, too--people said that he was certain to become agreat soldier--perhaps as great as his brother Arthur--and that wouldbe pleasant enough, too, though he was but the younger son of aninnumerable family: but then, so was Amyas Leigh. Ah, poor Amyas! Hergirl's fancy for him had vanished, or rather, perhaps, it was very muchwhat it always had been, only that four or five more girl's fanciesbeside it had entered in, and kept it in due subjection. But still, shecould not help thinking a good deal about him, and his voyage, and thereports of his great strength, and beauty, and valor, which had alreadyreached her in that out-of-the-way corner; and though she was not in theleast in love with him, she could not help hoping that he had at least(to put her pretty little thought in the mildest shape) not altogetherforgotten her; and was hungering, too, with all her fancy, to give himno peace till he had told her all the wonderful things which he had seenand done in this ever-memorable voyage. So that, altogether, it was nowonder, if in her last night's dream the figure of Amyas had been evenmore forward and troublesome than that of Frank or the rest.

  But, moreover, another figure had been forward and troublesome enough inlast night's sleep-world; and forward and troublesome enough, too, nowin to-day's waking-world, namely, Eustace, the rejected. How strangethat she should have dreamt of him the night before! and dreamt, too,of his fighting with Mr. Frank and Mr. Amyas! It must be a warning--see,she had met him the very next day in this strange way; so the first halfof her dream had come true; and after what had past, she only had tobreathe a whisper, and the second part of the dream would come truealso. If she wished for a passage of arms in her own honor, she couldeasily enough compass one: not that she would do it for worlds! Andafter all, though Mr. Eustace had been very rude and naughty, yet stillit was not his own fault; he could not help being in love with her.And--and, in short, the poor little maid felt herself one of the mostimportant personages on earth, with all the cares (or hearts) of thecountry in her keeping, and as much perplexed with matters of weight asever was any Cleophila, or Dianeme, Fiordispina or Flourdeluce, in verserun tame, or prose run mad.

  Poor little Rose! Had she but had a mother! But she was to learn herlesson, such as it was, in another school. She was too shy (too proudperhaps) to tell her aunt her mighty troubles; but a counsellor she musthave; and after sitting with her head in her hands, for half-an-houror more, she arose suddenly, and started off along the cliffs towardsMarsland. She would go and see Lucy Passmore, the white witch; Lucy kneweverything; Lucy would tell her what to do; perhaps even whom to marry.

  Lucy was a fat, jolly woman of fifty, with little pig-eyes, whichtwinkled like sparks of fire, and eyebrows which sloped upwards andoutwards, like those of a satyr, as if she had been (as indeed she had)all her life looking out of the corners of her eyes. Her qualificationsas white witch were boundless cunning, equally boundless good nature,considerable knowledge of human weaknesses, some mesmeric power, someskill in "yarbs," as she called her simples, a firm faith in the virtueof her own incantations, and the faculty of holding her tongue. By dintof these she contrived to gain a fair share of money, and also (whichshe liked even better) of power, among the simple folk for many milesround. If a child was scalded, a tooth ached, a piece of silver wasstolen, a heifer shrew-struck, a pig bewitched, a young damsel crost inlove, Lucy was called in, and Lucy found a remedy, especially for thelatter complaint. Now and then she found herself on ticklish ground, forthe kind-heartedness which compelled her to help all distressed damselsout of a scrape, sometimes compelled her also to help them into one;whereon enraged fathers called Lucy ugly names, and threatened to sendher into Exeter gaol for a witch, and she smiled quietly, and hintedthat if she were "like some that were ready to return evil for evil,such talk as that would bring no blessing on them that spoke it;" whichbeing translated into plain English, meant, "If you trouble me, I willoverlook (i. e. fascinate) you, and then your pigs will die, your horsesstray, your cream turn sour, your barns be fired, your son have St.Vitus's dance, your daughter fits, and so on, woe on woe, till you arevery probably starved to death in a ditch, by virtue of this terriblelittle eye of mine, at which, in spite of all your swearing andbullying, you know you are now shaking in your shoes for fear. So youhad much better hold your tongue, give me a drink of cider, and leaveill alone, lest you make it worse."

  Not that Lucy ever proceeded to any such fearful extremities. On thecontrary, her boast, and her belief too, was, that she was sent intothe world to make poor souls as happy as she could, by lawful means,of course, if possible, but if not--why, unlawful ones were better thannone; for she "couldn't a-bear to see the poor creatures taking on;she was too, too tender-hearted." And so she was, to every one but herhusband, a tall, simple-hearted rabbit-faced man, a good deal older thanherself. Fully agre
eing with Sir Richard Grenville's great axiom,that he who cannot obey cannot rule, Lucy had been for the lastfive-and-twenty years training him pretty smartly to obey her, with theintention, it is to be charitably hoped, of letting him rule her inturn when his lesson was perfected. He bore his honors, however, meeklyenough, having a boundless respect for his wife's wisdom, and a firmbelief in her supernatural powers, and let her go her own way and earnher own money, while he got a little more in a truly pastoral method(not extinct yet along those lonely cliffs), by feeding a herd of somedozen donkeys and twenty goats. The donkeys fetched, at each low-tide,white shell-sand which was to be sold for manure to the neighboringfarmers; the goats furnished milk and "kiddy-pies;" and when there wasneither milking nor sand-carrying to be done, old Will Passmore justsat under a sunny rock and watched the buck-goats rattle their hornstogether, thinking about nothing at all, and taking very good careall the while neither to inquire nor to see who came in and out of hislittle cottage in the glen.

  The prophetess, when Rose approached her oracular cave, was seated ona tripod in front of the fire, distilling strong waters out ofpenny-royal. But no sooner did her distinguished visitor appear at thehatch, than the still was left to take care of itself, and a cleanapron and mutch having been slipt on, Lucy welcomed Rose with endlesscourtesies, and--"Bless my dear soul alive, who ever would have thoughtto see the Rose of Torridge to my poor little place!"

  Rose sat down: and then? How to begin was more than she knew, and shestayed silent a full five minutes, looking earnestly at the point ofher shoe, till Lucy, who was an adept in such cases, thought it bestto proceed to business at once, and save Rose the delicate operationof opening the ball herself; and so, in her own way, half fawning, halffamiliar--

  "Well, my dear young lady, and what is it I can do for ye? For I guessyou want a bit of old Lucy's help, eh? Though I'm most mazed to see yehere, surely. I should have supposed that pretty face could manage theysort of matters for itself. Eh?"

  Rose, thus bluntly charged, confessed at once, and with many blushes andhesitations, made her soon understand that what she wanted was "To haveher fortune told."

  "Eh? Oh! I see. The pretty face has managed it a bit too well already,eh? Tu many o' mun, pure fellows? Well, 'tain't every mayden has herpick and choose, like some I know of, as be blest in love by starsabove. So you hain't made up your mind, then?"

  Rose shook her head.

  "Ah--well," she went on, in a half-bantering tone. "Not so asy, is it,then? One's gude for one thing, and one for another, eh? One has theblood, and another the money."

  And so the "cunning woman" (as she truly was), talking half to herself,ran over all the names which she thought likely, peering at Rose all thewhile out of the corners of her foxy bright eyes, while Rose stirred thepeat ashes steadfastly with the point of her little shoe, half angry,half ashamed, half frightened, to find that "the cunning woman" hadguessed so well both her suitors and her thoughts about them, and triedto look unconcerned at each name as it came out.

  "Well, well," said Lucy, who took nothing by her move, simply becausethere was nothing to take; "think over it--think over it, my dear life;and if you did set your mind on any one--why, then--then maybe I mighthelp you to a sight of him."

  "A sight of him?"

  "His sperrit, dear life, his sperrit only, I mane. I 'udn't have nokeeping company in my house, no, not for gowld untowld, I 'udn't; butthe sperrit of mun--to see whether mun would be true or not, you'd liketo know that, now, 'udn't you, my darling?"

  Rose sighed, and stirred the ashes about vehemently.

  "I must first know who it is to be. If you could show me that--now--"

  "Oh, I can show ye that, tu, I can. Ben there's a way to 't, a sure way;but 'tis mortal cold for the time o' year, you zee."

  "But what is it, then?" said Rose, who had in her heart been longing forsomething of that very kind, and had half made up her mind to ask for acharm.

  "Why, you'm not afraid to goo into the say by night for a minute, areyou? And to-morrow night would serve, too; 't will be just low tide tomidnight."

  "If you would come with me perhaps--"

  "I'll come, I'll come, and stand within call, to be sure. Only do yemind this, dear soul alive, not to goo telling a crumb about mun, noo,not for the world, or yu'll see naught at all, indeed, now. And beside,there's a noxious business grow'd up against me up to Chapel there; andI hear tell how Mr. Leigh saith I shall to Exeter gaol for a witch--didye ever hear the likes?--because his groom Jan saith I overlookedmun--the Papist dog! And now never he nor th' owld Father Francis goo byme without a spetting, and saying of their Ayes and Malificas--I doknow what their Rooman Latin do mane, zo well as ever they, I du!--and amaking o' their charms and incantations to their saints and idols! Theybe mortal feared of witches, they Papists, and mortal hard on 'em, evenon a pure body like me, that doth a bit in the white way; 'case why yousee, dear life," said she, with one of her humorous twinkles, "tu to atrade do never agree. Do ye try my bit of a charm, now; do ye!"

  Rose could not resist the temptation; and between them both the charmwas agreed on, and the next night was fixed for its trial, on thepayment of certain current coins of the realm (for Lucy, of course,must live by her trade); and slipping a tester into the dame's hand asearnest, Rose went away home, and got there in safety.

  But in the meanwhile, at the very hour that Eustace had been prosecutinghis suit in the lane at Moorwinstow, a very different scene was beingenacted in Mrs. Leigh's room at Burrough.

  For the night before, Amyas, as he was going to bed, heard his brotherFrank in the next room tune his lute, and then begin to sing. Andboth their windows being open, and only a thin partition between thechambers, Amyas's admiring ears came in for every word of the followingcanzonet, sung in that delicate and mellow tenor voice for which Frankwas famed among all fair ladies:--

  "Ah, tyrant Love, Megaera's serpents bearing, Why thus requite my sighs with venom'd smart? Ah, ruthless dove, the vulture's talons wearing, Why flesh them, traitress, in this faithful heart? Is this my meed? Must dragons' teeth alone In Venus' lawns by lovers' hands be sown?

  "Nay, gentlest Cupid; 'twas my pride undid me. Nay, guiltless dove; by mine own wound I fell. To worship, not to wed, Celestials bid me: I dreamt to mate in heaven, and wake in hell; Forever doom'd, Ixion-like, to reel On mine own passions' ever-burning wheel."

  At which the simple sailor sighed, and longed that he could write suchneat verses, and sing them so sweetly. How he would besiege the earof Rose Salterne with amorous ditties! But still, he could not beeverything; and if he had the bone and muscle of the family, it was butfair that Frank should have the brains and voice; and, after all, he wasbone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, and it was just the same asif he himself could do all the fine things which Frank could do; for aslong as one of the family won honor, what matter which of them it was?Whereon he shouted through the wall, "Good night, old song-thrush; Isuppose I need not pay the musicians."

  "What, awake?" answered Frank. "Come in here, and lull me to sleep witha sea-song."

  So Amyas went in, and found Frank laid on the outside of his bed not yetundrest.

  "I am a bad sleeper," said he; "I spend more time, I fear, in burningthe midnight oil than prudent men should. Come and be my jongleur,my minnesinger, and tell me about Andes, and cannibals, and theice-regions, and the fire-regions, and the paradises of the West."

  So Amyas sat down, and told: but somehow, every story which he tried totell came round, by crooked paths, yet sure, to none other point thanRose Salterne, and how he thought of her here and thought of her there,and how he wondered what she would say if she had seen him in thisadventure, and how he longed to have had her with him to show her thatglorious sight, till Frank let him have his own way, and then out camethe whole story of the simple fellow's daily and hourly devotion to her,through those three long years of world-wide wanderings.

  "And oh, Frank, I
could hardly think of anything but her in the churchthe other day, God forgive me! and it did seem so hard for her to be theonly face which I did not see--and have not seen her yet, either."

  "So I thought, dear lad," said Frank, with one of his sweetest smiles;"and tried to get her father to let her impersonate the nymph ofTorridge."

  "Did you, you dear kind fellow? That would have been too delicious."

  "Just so, too delicious; wherefore, I suppose, it was ordained not tobe, that which was being delicious enough."

  "And is she as pretty as ever?"

  "Ten times as pretty, dear lad, as half the young fellows round havediscovered. If you mean to win her and wear her (and God grant you mayfare no worse!) you will have rivals enough to get rid of."

  "Humph!" said Amyas, "I hope I shall not have to make short work withsome of them."

  "I hope not," said Frank, laughing. "Now go to bed, and to-morrowmorning give your sword to mother to keep, lest you should be tempted todraw it on any of her majesty's lieges."

  "No fear of that, Frank; I am no swash-buckler, thank God; but if anyone gets in my way, I'll serve him as the mastiff did the terrier,and just drop him over the quay into the river, to cool himself, or myname's not Amyas."

  And the giant swung himself laughing out of the room, and slept allnight like a seal, not without dreams, of course, of Rose Salterne.

  The next morning, according to his wont, he went into his mother's room,whom he was sure to find up and at her prayers; for he liked to say hisprayers, too, by her side, as he used to do when he was a little boy. Itseemed so homelike, he said, after three years' knocking up and downin no-man's land. But coming gently to the door, for fear of disturbingher, and entering unperceived, beheld a sight which stopped him short.

  Mrs. Leigh was sitting in her chair, with her face bowed fondly downupon the head of his brother Frank, who knelt before her, his faceburied in her lap. Amyas could see that his whole form was quiveringwith stifled emotion. Their mother was just finishing the last wordsof a well-known text,--"for my sake, and the Gospel's, shall receive ahundred-fold in this present life, fathers, and mothers, and brothers,and sisters."

  "But not a wife!" interrupted Frank, with a voice stifled with sobs;"that was too precious a gift for even Him to promise to those who gaveup a first love for His sake!"

  "And yet," said he, after a moment's silence, "has He not heaped me withblessings enough already, that I must repine and rage at His refusing meone more, even though that one be--No, mother! I am your son, and God's;and you shall know it, even though Amyas never does!" And he looked upwith his clear blue eyes and white forehead; and his face was as theface of an angel.

  Both of them saw that Amyas was present, and started and blushed. Hismother motioned him away with her eyes, and he went quietly out, as onestunned. Why had his name been mentioned?

  Love, cunning love, told him all at once. This was the meaning of lastnight's canzonet! This was why its words had seemed to fit his own heartso well! His brother was his rival. And he had been telling him all hislove last night. What a stupid brute he was! How it must have made poorFrank wince! And then Frank had listened so kindly; even bid him Godspeed in his suit. What a gentleman old Frank was, to be sure! No wonderthe queen was so fond of him, and all the Court ladies!--Why, if itcame to that, what wonder if Rose Salterne should be fond of him too?Hey-day! "That would be a pretty fish to find in my net when I come tohaul it!" quoth Amyas to himself, as he paced the garden; and clutchingdesperately hold of his locks with both hands, as if to hold his poorconfused head on its shoulders, he strode and tramped up and down theshell-paved garden walks for a full half hour, till Frank's voice (ascheerful as ever, though he more than suspected all) called him.

  "Come in to breakfast, lad; and stop grinding and creaking upon thosemiserable limpets, before thou hast set every tooth in my head on edge!"

  Amyas, whether by dint of holding his head straight, or by higher means,had got the thoughts of the said head straight enough by this time; andin he came, and fell to upon the broiled fish and strong ale, with asort of fury, as determined to do his duty to the utmost in all mattersthat day, and therefore, of course, in that most important matter ofbodily sustenance; while his mother and Frank looked at him, not withoutanxiety and even terror, doubting what turn his fancy might have takenin so new a case; at last--

  "My dear Amyas, you will really heat your blood with all that strongale! Remember, those who drink beer, think beer."

  "Then they think right good thoughts, mother. And in the meanwhile,those who drink water, think water. Eh, old Frank? and here's yourhealth."

  "And clouds are water," said his mother, somewhat reassured by hisgenuine good humor; "and so are rainbows; and clouds are angels'thrones, and rainbows the sign of God's peace on earth."

  Amyas understood the hint, and laughed. "Then I'll pledge Frank outof the next ditch, if it please you and him. But first--I say--he musthearken to a parable; a manner mystery, miracle play, I have got inmy head, like what they have at Easter, to the town-hall. Now then,hearken, madam, and I and Frank will act." And up rose Amyas, and shovedback his chair, and put on a solemn face.

  Mrs. Leigh looked up, trembling; and Frank, he scarce knew why, rose.

  "No; you pitch again. You are King David, and sit still upon yourthrone. David was a great singer, you know, and a player on the viols;and ruddy, too, and of a fair countenance; so that will fit. Now, then,mother, don't look so frightened. I am not going to play Goliath, forall my cubits; I am to present Nathan the prophet. Now, David, hearken,for I have a message unto thee, O King!

  "There were two men in one city, one rich, and the other poor: and therich man had many flocks and herds, and all the fine ladies in Whitehallto court if he liked; and the poor man had nothing but--"

  And in spite of his broad honest smile, Amyas's deep voice began totremble and choke.

  Frank sprang up, and burst into tears: "Oh! Amyas, my brother, mybrother! stop! I cannot endure this. Oh, God! was it not enough to haveentangled myself in this fatal fancy, but over and above, I must meetthe shame of my brother's discovering it?"

  "What shame, then, I'd like to know?" said Amyas, recovering himself."Look here, brother Frank! I've thought it all over in the garden; andI was an ass and a braggart for talking to you as I did last night.Of course you love her! Everybody must; and I was a fool for notrecollecting that; and if you love her, your taste and mine agree, andwhat can be better? I think you are a sensible fellow for loving her,and you think me one. And as for who has her, why, you're the eldest;and first come first served is the rule, and best to keep to it.Besides, brother Frank, though I'm no scholar, yet I'm not so blind butthat I tell the difference between you and me; and of course your chanceagainst mine, for a hundred to one; and I am not going to be fool enoughto row against wind and tide too. I'm good enough for her, I hope; butif I am, you are better, and the good dog may run, but it's the bestthat takes the hare; and so I have nothing more to do with the matterat all; and if you marry her, why, it will set the old house on its legsagain, and that's the first thing to be thought of, and you may just aswell do it as I, and better too. Not but that it's a plague, a horribleplague!" went on Amyas, with a ludicrously doleful visage; "but soare other things too, by the dozen; it's all in the day's work, as thehuntsman said when the lion ate him. One would never get through thefurze-croft if one stopped to pull out the prickles. The pig didn'tscramble out of the ditch by squeaking; and the less said the soonermended; nobody was sent into the world only to suck honey-pots. Whatmust be must, man is but dust; if you can't get crumb, you must faineat crust. So I'll go and join the army in Ireland, and get it out ofmy head, for cannon balls fright away love as well as poverty does; andthat's all I've got to say." Wherewith Amyas sat down, and returned tothe beer; while Mrs. Leigh wept tears of joy.

  "Amyas! Amyas!" said Frank; "you must not throw away the hopes of years,and for me, too! Oh, how just was your parable! Ah! mother mine! towhat use is all my s
cholarship and my philosophy, when this dear simplesailor-lad outdoes me at the first trial of courtesy!"

  "My children, my children, which of you shall I love best? Which of youis the more noble? I thanked God this morning for having given me onesuch son; but to have found that I possess two!" And Mrs. Leigh laid herhead on the table, and buried her face in her hands, while the generousbattle went on.

  "But, dearest Amyas!--"

  "But, Frank! if you don't hold your tongue, I must go forth. Itwas quite trouble enough to make up one's mind, without having youafterwards trying to unmake it again."

  "Amyas! if you give her up to me, God do so to me, and more also, if Ido not hereby give her up to you!"

  "He had done it already--this morning!" said Mrs. Leigh, looking upthrough her tears. "He renounced her forever on his knees before me!only he is too noble to tell you so."

  "The more reason I should copy him," said Amyas, setting his lips, andtrying to look desperately determined, and then suddenly jumping up,he leaped upon Frank, and throwing his arms round his neck, sobbed out,"There, there, now! For God's sake, let us forget all, and think aboutour mother, and the old house, and how we may win her honor before wedie! and that will be enough to keep our hands full, without frettingabout this woman and that.--What an ass I have been for years! insteadof learning my calling, dreaming about her, and don't know at thisminute whether she cares more for me than she does for her father's'prentices!"

  "Oh, Amyas! every word of yours puts me to fresh shame! Will you believethat I know as little of her likings as you do?"

  "Don't tell me that, and play the devil's game by putting fresh hopesinto me, when I am trying to kick them out. I won't believe it. If sheis not a fool, she must love you; and if she don't, why, be hanged ifshe is worth loving!"

  "My dearest Amyas! I must ask you too to make no more such speeches tome. All those thoughts I have forsworn."

  "Only this morning; so there is time to catch them again before they aregone too far."

  "Only this morning," said Frank, with a quiet smile: "but centuries havepassed since then."

  "Centuries? I don't see many gray hairs yet."

  "I should not have been surprised if you had, though," answered Frank,in so sad and meaning a tone that Amyas could only answer--

  "Well, you are an angel!"

  "You, at least, are something even more to the purpose, for you are aman!"

  And both spoke truth, and so the battle ended; and Frank went to hisbooks, while Amyas, who must needs be doing, if he was not to dream,started off to the dockyard to potter about a new ship of Sir Richard's,and forget his woes, in the capacity of Sir Oracle among the sailors.And so he had played his move for Rose, even as Eustace had, and losther: but not as Eustace had.