VIII
THE ENVOY
A sound of heavy steps disturbed her meditations. She stood up fromher map, blinked down the tears that tried to rise, and turned toface new fortune.
"Here is our enemy," she said to herself, and she forced back theconfident color to her cheeks, the confident light to her eyes. Thedoor from the park opened, and John Thoroughgood entered the room,holding by the hand a man in the staid habit of a Puritan soldier,whose eyes were muffled by a folded scarf of silk. Blindfolded thoughhe was, the Puritan followed his guide with a steady and resolutestep.
"Halt!" cried Thoroughgood. The stranger stood quietly as if onparade, while Thoroughgood saluted his mistress.
"Unhood your hawk," Brilliana ordered. Thoroughgood, obedient,unpicked the knot of the handkerchief, revealing his companion'sface. Brilliana observed with a hostile curiosity a tallish,well-set, comely man of about thirty years of age, whose smooth,well-featured face asserted high breeding and a gravity whichdeepened into melancholy in the dark expressive eyes and lightenedinto lines of humor about the fine, firm mouth. For a moment, withthe removal of the muffle, he seemed dazzled by the change from darkto light; then, as command of his vision returned, he observedBrilliana and made her a courteous salutation which she returnedcoldly. She made a gesture of dismissal to Thoroughgood, who wentout, and the Lady of Loyalty was left alone with her enemy.
There was a moment's silence as the pair faced each other, the manquietly discreet, the woman openly scornful. She was under the sameroof with a rebel in arms, and the thought sickened her. She brokethe silence.
"You petitioned to see me." With the sound of her voice she found newvehemence, new indignation. "Do your rebels offer unconditionalsurrender?"
The circumstances of the astonishing question brought for the momenta slight smile to the grave face of the Parliament man.
"It was scarcely with that thought," he answered, "that I sought fora parley."
Though the man's smile had been short-lived, Brilliana had seen itand loathed him for it. Though the man's manner was suave, it seemedto wear the suavity of success and she loathed him for that, too.
"We waste time," she cried, impatiently, "with any other businessthan your swift submission."
Then as she saw him make an amiably protesting gesture she raged athim with a rising voice.
"Oh, if you knew how hard it is for me to stand in the same room witha renegade traitor you would, if such as you remember courtesy, bebrief in your errand."
The man showed no consciousness of the insult in her words and in hermanner save than by a courteous inclination of the head and a fewwords of quiet speech.
"Much may be pardoned to so brave a lady."
Brilliana struck her hand angrily upon the table once and again.
"For God's sake do not praise me!" she almost screamed, "or I shallhate myself. Your errand, your errand, your errand!"
The enemy was provokingly imperturbable.
"You have a high spirit," he said, "that must compel admiration fromall. That is why I would persuade you to wisdom. I came hither fromCambridge by order of Colonel Cromwell."
Brilliana's lips tightened at the sound of the name which the envoypronounced with so much reverence.
"The rebel member for Cambridge," she sneered--"the mutinous brewer.Are you a vassal of the man of beer?"
There was a quiet note of protest in the reply of the envoy.
"Colonel Cromwell is not a brewer, though he would be no worse a manif he were. I am honored in his friendship, in his service. He is agreat man and a great Englishman."
"And what," Brilliana asked, "has this great man to do with Harbythat he sends you here?"
"He sends me here," the Puritan answered, "to haul down your flag."
"That you shall never do," Brilliana answered, steadily, "while thereis a living soul in Harby."
The Puritan protested with appealing hands.
"You are in the last straits for lack of food, for lack of fuel, forlack of powder."
Brilliana made a passionate gesture of denial.
"You are as ignorant as insolent," she asserted. "Loyalty House lacksneither provisions nor munitions of war."
There was a kind of respectful pity in the stranger's face as hewatched the wild, bright girl and hearkened to the vain, brave words.
"Nay, now--" he began, out of the consciousness of his own truerknowledge, but what he would have said was furiously interrupted by avolume of strange sounds from the adjoining banqueting-hall. Therewas a rattle and clink as of many pewter mugs banged lustily upon anoaken table; there was a shrill explosion of laughter, the work ofmany merry voices; there was the grinding noise of heavy chairspushed back across the floor for the greater ease of their occupants;there was a tapping as of pipe-bowls on the board, and then over allthe mingled din rose a voice, which Brilliana knew for the voice ofHalfman, ringing out a resonant appeal.
"The King's health, friends, to begin with."
All the noises that had died down to allow Halfman a hearing beganagain with fresh vigor. It was obvious to the most unsophisticatedlistener that here was the fag end of a feast and the moment for thegenial giving of toasts. Many voices swelled a loyal chorus of "TheKing, the King!" and had the great doors of the banqueting-hall beenno other than bright glass it would have been scarce easier for theman and woman in the great hall to realize what was happening, therevellers rising to their feet, the drinking-vessels lifted high inair with loyal vociferations, and then the silence, eloquent oftilted mugs and the running of welcome liquor down the channels ofthirsty throats. This silence was broken by some one calling for asong, to which call he who had proposed the King's health answeredinstantly and with evident satisfaction. His rich if somewhat roughvoice came booming through the partitions, carolling a ballad towhich the Puritan listened with a perfectly unmoved countenance,while the Lady Brilliana's eager face expressed every signal of theliveliest delight.
This was the song that came across the threshold:
"What creature's this with his short hairs, His little band and huge long ears, That this new faith hath founded? The Puritans were never such, The saints themselves had ne'er so much, Oh, such a knave's a Roundhead."
A yell of pleasure followed this verse, and a tuneless chorusthundered the refrain, "Oh, such a knave's a Roundhead," with themost evident relish for the sentiments of the song. Brilliana lookedwith some impatience at the unruffled face of her adversary, andwhen the immediate clamor dwindled she addressed him, sarcastically:
"These revellers," she said, "would not seem to be at the lastextremity. But their festival must not deafen our conference."
She advanced to the door of the banqueting-room and struck against itwith her hand. On the instant silence she opened the door a littleway and spoke through softly, as if gently chiding those within.
"Be merry more gently, friends. Sure, I cannot hear the gentlemanspeak. Though," she added, reflectively, as she closed the door andreturned again to the table she had quitted--"though God knows hetalks big enough."
The Puritan clapped his palms together as if in applause, an actionthat somewhat amazed her in him, while a kindly humor kindled in hiseyes.
"Bravely staged, bravely played," he admitted, while he shook hishead. "But it will not serve your turn, for it may not deceive me. Ihad a message this morning from my Lord Essex. There has been hotfighting; Heaven has given us the victory; the King's cause iswellnigh lost at the first push."
Brilliana felt her heart drumming against her stays, but she turneda defiant face on the news-monger.
"I do not believe you," she answered. "The King's cause will alwayswin."
The soldier took no notice of her denial; he felt too sure of hisfact to hold other than pity for the leaguered lady. He quietlyadded:
"My Lord Essex advises me further that reinforcements are marching tome well equipped with artillery against which even these gallantwalls are worthless. Be warned, be wis
e. You cannot hope to hold outlonger. For pity's sake, yield to the Parliament."
Brilliana waved his pleas away with a dainty, impatient flourish.
"You chatter republican vainly. I have store of powder. I will blowthis old hall heaven high when I can no longer hold it for the King."
Her visitor looked at her sadly, made as if to speak, paused, andthen appeared to force himself to reluctant utterance.
"Lady," he said, slowly, "though we be opponents, we share the sameblood. Let a kinsman entreat you to reason."
If the civil-spoken stranger had struck her in the face with hisglove Brilliana could not have been more astonished or angered. Shemoved a little nearer to him, interrogation in her shining eyes andon her angry cheeks.
"Are you mad?" she gasped. "How could such a thing as you be mykinsman?"
She had taunted him again and again during their brief interview andhe had shown no sign of displeasure. He showed no sign of displeasurenow, answering her with simple dignity.
"Very simply. A lady of your race, your grandsire's sister, married apoor gentleman of my name and was my father's mother."
Brilliana drew back a little as if she had indeed received a blow.Involuntarily, she put up her hand to her eyes as if to shut out thesight of this importunate fellow.
"I have heard something of that tale," she whispered, "but dimly, forwe in Harby do not care to speak of it. When my grandsire's sistershamed her family by wedding with a Puritan her people blotted herfrom their memory. You will not find her picture on the walls ofHarby."
"The loss is Harby's," the soldier answered, "for I believe she wasas fair as she was good. She married an honest gentleman named Cloud,whose honesty compelled him to profess the faith he believed in. Myname is Evander Cloud."
He waited for a moment as if he expected her to speak, but sheuttered no word, only faced him rigidly with hatred in her gaze.
Seeing her silent, he resumed:
"It was this sad kinship pushed me to a parley wherein, perhaps, Ihave something strained my strict duty. But the voice of our commonblood cried out in me to urge you to reason. You have done all thatwoman, all that man could do. Yield now, while I can still offer youterms, and your garrison shall march out with all the honors of war,drums beating, matches burning, colors flying."
He was very earnest in his appeal, and Brilliana heard him to the endin silence, with her clinched hands pressed against her bosom. Thenshe turned fiercely upon him and her voice was bitter.
"Sir," she cried, "if I hated you before for a detested rebel, thinkhow I hate you now, if you be, even in so base a way, my kinsman."
She turned away from him, lifting her clasped hands as if insupplication.
"Oh, Heaven, to think that a disloyal, hypocritical, canting Puritancould brag to my face that he carries one drop of our loyal blood inhis false heart."
She turned to him again with new fury.
"You are doubly a traitor now, and if you are wise you will keep outof my power, for my heart aches with its hate of you. Go! Fiveminutes left of your truce gives you just time to return to yourrebels. If you overlinger in our lines but one minute you are nolonger an envoy: you are an enemy and a spy and shall swing for it."
She reached out her hand to strike the bell upon the table, whileEvander Cloud, still impassive, paid a salutation to his unwillinghostess and made a motion to depart. But on the instant both werechilled into immobility by an amazing interruption. Brilliana's handnever touched the bell; Evander's hand never found the handle of thedoor. For between the beginning and the end of their action came asudden rattle of musketry, distant but deafening, followed on theinstant by a whirlwind of furious cries and noise.
The Lady of Loyalty House: A Novel Page 9
