Micah Clarke

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  Chapter VI. Of the Letter that came from the Lowlands

  In the morning I was up betimes, and went forthwith, after the countryfashion, to our quest's room to see if there was aught in which I couldserve him. On pushing at his door, I found that it was fastened, whichsurprised me the more as I knew that there was neither key nor bolt uponthe inside. On my pressing against it, however, it began to yield, andI could then see that a heavy chest which was used to stand near thewindow had been pulled round in order to shut out any intrusion. Thisprecaution, taken under my father's roof, as though he were in a den ofthieves, angered me, and I gave a butt with my shoulder which clearedthe box out of the way, and enabled me to enter the room.

  The man Saxon was sitting up in bed, staring about him as though hewere not very certain for the moment where he was. He had tied a whitekerchief round his head by way of night bonnet, and his hard-visaged,clean-shaven face, looking out through this, together with his bonyfigure, gave him some resemblance to a gigantic old woman. The bottleof usquebaugh stood empty by his bedside. Clearly his fears had beenrealised, and he had had an attack of the Persian ague.

  'Ah, my young friend!' he said at last. 'Is it, then, the custom of thispart of the country to carry your visitor's rooms by storm or escaladoin the early hours of the morning?'

  'Is it the custom,' I answered sternly, 'to barricade up your door whenyou are sleeping under the roof-tree of an honest man? What did youfear, that you should take such a precaution?'

  'Nay, you are indeed a spitfire,' he replied, sinking back upon thepillow, and drawing the clothes round him, 'a feuerkopf as the Germanscall it, or sometimes tollkopf, which in its literal significancemeaneth a fool's head. Your father was, as I have heard, a strong and afierce man when the blood of youth ran in his veins; but you, I shouldjudge, are in no way behind him. Know, then, that the bearer of papersof import, _documenta preciosa sed periculosa_, is bound to leavenought to chance, but to guard in every way the charge which hath beencommitted to him. True it is that I am in the house of an honest man,but I know not who may come or who may go during the hours of the night.Indeed, for the matter of that--but enough is said. I shall be with youanon.'

  'Your clothes are dry and are ready for you,' I remarked.

  'Enough! enough!' he answered. 'I have no quarrel with the suit whichyour father has lent me. It may be that I have been used to better, butthey will serve my turn. The camp is not the court.'

  It was evident to me that my father's suit was infinitely better, bothin texture and material, than that which our visitor had broughtwith him. As he had withdrawn his head, however, entirely beneath thebedclothes, there was nothing more to be said, so I descended to thelower room, where I found toy father busily engaged fastening a newbuckle to his sword-belt while my mother and the maid were preparing themorning meal.

  'Come into the yard with me, Micah,' quoth my father; 'I would havea word with you.' The workmen had not yet come to their work, so westrolled out into the sweet morning air, and seated ourselves on the lowstone bankment on which the skins are dressed.

  'I have been out here this morning trying my hand at the broadswordexercise, 'said he; 'I find that I am as quick as ever on a thrust, butmy cuts are sadly stiff. I might be of use at a pinch, but, alas! Iam not the same swordsman who led the left troop of the finest horseregiment that ever followed a kettledrum. The Lord hath given, and theLord hath taken away! Yet, if I am old and worn, there is the fruit ofmy loins to stand in my place and to wield the same sword in the samecause. You shall go in my place, Micah.'

  'Go! Go whither?'

  'Hush, lad, and listen! Let not your mother know too much, for thehearts of women are soft. When Abraham offered up his eldest born, Itrow that he said little to Sarah on the matter. Here is the letter.Know you who this Dicky Rumbold is?'

  'Surely I have heard you speak of him as an old companion of yours.'

  'The same--a staunch man and true. So faithful was he--faithful even toslaying--that when the army of the righteous dispersed, he did not layaside his zeal with his buff-coat. He took to business as a maltster atHoddesdon, and in his house was planned the famous Rye House Plot, inwhich so many good men were involved.'

  'Was it not a foul assassination plot?' I asked.

  'Nay, nay, be not led away by terms! It is a vile invention of themalignants that these men planned assassination. What they would do theypurposed doing in broad daylight, thirty of them against fifty of theRoyal Guard, when Charles and James passed on their way to Newmarket. Ifthe royal brothers got pistol-bullet or sword-stab, it would be in openfight, and at the risk of their attackers. It was give and take, and nomurder.'

  He paused and looked inquiringly at me; but I could not truthfullysay that I was satisfied, for an attack upon the lives of unarmed andunsuspecting men, even though surrounded by a bodyguard, could not, tomy mind, be justified.

  'When the plot failed,' my father continued, 'Rumbold had to fly for hislife, but he succeeded in giving his pursuers the slip and in making hisway to the Lowlands. There he found that many enemies of the Governmenthad gathered together. Repeated messages from England, especially fromthe western counties and from London, assured them that if they wouldbut attempt an invasion they might rely upon help both in men and inmoney. They were, however, at fault for some time for want of a leaderof sufficient weight to carry through so large a project; but nowat last they have one, who is the best that could have been singledout--none other than the well-beloved Protestant chieftain James, Dukeof Monnmouth, son of Charles II.'

  'Illegitimate son,' I remarked.

  'That may or may not be. There are those who say that Lucy Walters wasa lawful wife. Bastard or no, he holds the sound principles of the trueChurch, and he is beloved by the people. Let him appear in the West, andsoldiers will rise up like the flowers in the spring time.'

  He paused, and led me away to the farther end of the yard, for theworkmen had begun to arrive and to cluster round the dipping trough.

  'Monmouth is coming over,' he continued, 'and he expects every braveProtestant man to rally to his standard. The Duke of Argyle is tocommand a separate expedition, which will set the Highlands of Scotlandin a blaze. Between them they hope to bring the persecutor of thefaithful on his knees. But I hear the voice of the man Saxon, and I mustnot let him say that I have treated him in a churlish fashion. Here isthe letter, lad. Read it with care, and remember that when brave men arestriving for their rights it is fitting that one of the old rebel houseof Clarke should be among them.'

  I took the letter, and wandering off into the fields, I settled myselfunder a convenient tree, and set myself to read it. This yellow sheetwhich I now hold in my hand is the very one which was brought by DecimusSaxon, and read by me that bright May morning under the hawthorn shade.I give it to you as it stands;

  'To my friend and companion in the cause of the Lord, JosephClarke.--Know, friend, that aid and delivery is coming upon Israel,and that the wicked king and those who uphold him shall be smitten andentirely cast down, until their place in the land shall know them nomore. Hasten, then, to testify to thy own faith, that in the day oftrouble ye be not found wanting.

  'It has chanced from time to time that many of the suffering Church,both from our own land and from among the Scots, have assembled in thisgood Lutheran town of Amsterdam, until enough are gathered together totake a good work in hand. For amongst our own folk there are myLord Grey of Wark, Wade, Dare of Taunton, Ayloffe, Holmes, Hollis,Goodenough, and others whom thou shalt know. Of the Scots there are theDuke of Argyle, who has suffered sorely for the Covenant, Sir PatrickHume, Fletcher of Saltoun, Sir John Cochrane, Dr. Ferguson, MajorElphinstone, and others. To these we would fain have added Locke and oldHal Ludlow, but they are, as those of the Laodicean Church, neither coldnor warm.

  'It has now come to pass, however, that Monmouth, who has long lived indalliance with the Midianitish woman known by the name of Wentworth, hasat last turned him to higher things, and has consented to make a bid fo
rthe crown. It was found that the Scots preferred to follow a chieftainof their own, and it has therefore been determined that Argyle--M'CallumMore, as the breechless savages of Inverary call him--shall command aseparate expedition landing upon the western coast of Scotland. Therehe hopes to raise five thousand Campbells, and to be joined by all theCovenanters and Western Whigs, men who would make troops of the oldbreed had they but God-fearing officers with an experience of the chanceof fields and the usages of war. With such a following he should be ableto hold Glasgow, and to draw away the King's force to the north. Ayloffeand I go with Argyle. It is likely that our feet may be upon Scottishground before thy eyes read these words.

  'The stronger expedition starts with Monmouth, and lands at a fittingplace in the West, where we are assured that we have many friends. Icannot name the spot lest this letter miscarry, but thou shalt hearanon. I have written to all good men along the coast, bidding them tobe prepared to support the rising. The King is weak, and hated by thegreater part of his subjects. It doth but need one good stroke to bringhis crown in the dust. Monmouth will start in a few weeks, when hisequipment is finished and the weather favourable. If thou canst come,mine old comrade, I know well that thou wilt need no bidding of mine tobring thee to our banner. Should perchance a peaceful life and waningstrength forbid thy attendance, I trust that thou wilt wrestle for usin prayer, even as the holy prophet of old; and perchance, since I hearthat thou hast prospered according to the things of this world, thoumayst be able to fit out a pikeman or two, or to send a gift towards themilitary chest, which will be none too plentifully lined. We trustnot to gold, but to steel and to our own good cause, yet gold will bewelcome none the less. Should we fall, we fall like men and Christians.Should we succeed, we shall see how the perjured James, the persecutorof the saints with the heart like a nether millstone, the man who smiledwhen the thumbs of the faithful were wrenched out of their sockets atEdinburgh--we shall see how manfully he can bear adversity when it fallsto his lot. May the hand of the Almighty be over us!

  'I know little of the bearer of this, save that he professes to be ofthe elect. Shouldst thou go to Monmouth's camp, see that thou take himwith thee, for I hear that he hath had good experience in the German,Swedish, and Otttoman wars.--Yours in the faith of Christ, RichardRumbold.

  'Present my services to thy spouse. Let her read Timothy chapter two,ninth to fifteenth verses.'

  This long letter I read very carefully, and then putting it in my pocketreturned indoors to my breakfast. My father looked at me, as I entered,with questioning eyes, but I had no answer to return him, for my ownmind was clouded and uncertain.

  That day Decimus Saxon left us, intending to make a round of the countryand to deliver his letters, but promising to be back again ere long. Wehad a small mishap ere he went, for as we were talking of his journeymy brother Hosea must needs start playing with my father's powder-flask,which in some way went off with a sudden fluff, spattering the wallswith fragments of metal. So unexpected and loud was the explosion,that both my father and I sprang to our feet; but Saxon, whose backwas turned to my brother, sat four-square in his chair without a glancebehind him or a shade of change in his rugged face. As luck would haveit, no one was injured, not even Hosea, but the incident made me thinkmore highly of our new acquaintance. As he started off down the villagestreet, his long stringy figure and strange gnarled visage, with myfather's silver-braided hat cocked over his eye, attracted rathermore attention than I cared to see, considering the importance of themissives which he bore, and the certainty of their discovery should hebe arrested as a masterless man. Fortunately, however, the curiosityof the country folk did but lead them to cluster round their doors andwindows, staring open-eyed, while he, pleased at the attention whichhe excited, strode along with his head in the air and a cudgel ofmine twirling in his hand. He had left golden opinions behind him. Myfather's good wishes had been won by his piety and by the sacrificeswhich he claimed to have made for the faith. My mother he had taught howwimples are worn amongst the Serbs, and had also demonstrated to her anew method of curing marigolds in use in some parts of Lithuania. Formyself, I confess that I retained a vague distrust of the man, andwas determined to avoid putting faith in him more than was needful. Atpresent, however, we had no choice hut to treat him as an ambassadorfrom friends.

  And I? What was I to do? Should I follow my father's wishes, and drawmy maiden sword on behalf of the insurgents, or should I stand aside andsee how events shaped themselves? It was more fitting that I shouldgo than he. But, on the other hand, I was no keen religious zealot.Papistry, Church, Dissent, I believed that there was good in all ofthem, but that not one was worth the spilling of human blood. Jamesmight be a perjurer and a villain, but he was, as far as I could see,the rightful king of England, and no tales of secret marriages or blackboxes could alter the fact that his rival was apparently an illegitimateson, and as such ineligible to the throne. Who could say what evil actupon the part of a monarch justified his people in setting him aside?Who was the judge in such a case? Yet, on the other hand, the man hadnotoriously broken his own pledges, and that surely should absolvehis subjects from their allegiance. It was a weighty question for acountry-bred lad to have to settle, and yet settled it must be, and thatspeedily. I took up my hat and wandered away down the village street,turning the matter over in my head.

  But it was no easy thing for me to think seriously of anything in thehamlet; for I was in some way, my dear children, though I say it myself,a favourite with the young and with the old, so that I could not walkten paces without some greeting or address. There were my own brotherstrailing behind me, Baker Mitford's children tugging at my skirts, andthe millwright's two little maidens one on either hand. Then, when I hadpersuaded these young rompers to leave me, out came Dame Fullarton thewidow, with a sad tale about how her grindstone had fallen out of itsframe, and neither she nor her household could lift it in again. Thatmatter I set straight and proceeded on my way; but I could not pass thesign of the Wheatsheaf without John Lockarby, Reuben's father, plungingout at me and insisting upon my coming in with him for a morning cup.

  'The best glass of mead in the countryside, and brewed under my ownroof,' said he proudly, as he poured it into the flagon. 'Why, blessyou, master Micah, a man with a frame like yours wants store o' goodmalt to keep it up wi'.'

  'And malt like this is worthy of a good frame to contain it,' quothReuben, who was at work among the flasks.

  'What think ye, Micah?' said the landlord. 'There was the Squire o'Milton over here yester morning wi' Johnny Ferneley o' the Bank side,and they will have it that there's a man in Fareham who could wrestleyou, the best of three, and find your own grip, for a good round stake.'

  'Tut! tut!' I answered; 'you would have me like a prize mastiff, showingmy teeth to the whole countryside. What matter if the man can throw me,or I him?'

  'What matter? Why, the honour of Havant,' quoth he. 'Is that no matter?But you are right,' he continued, draining off his horn. 'What is allthis village life with its small successes to such as you? You are asmuch out of your place as a vintage wine at a harvest supper. The wholeof broad England, and not the streets of Havant, is the fit stage fora man of your kidney. What have you to do with the beating of skins andthe tanning of leather?'

  'My father would have you go forth as a knight-errant, Micah,' saidReuben, laughing. 'You might chance to get your own skin beaten and yourown leather tanned.'

  'Who ever knew so long a tongue in so short a body?' cried theinnkeeper. 'But in good sooth, Master Micah, I am in sober earnest whenI say that you are indeed wasting the years of your youth, when life issparkling and clear, and that you will regret it when you have come tothe flat and flavourless dregs of old age.'

  'There spoke the brewer,' said Reuben; 'but indeed, Micah, my father isright, for all that he hath such a hops-and-water manner of putting it.'

  'I will think over it,' I answered, and with a nod to the kindly coupleproceeded on my way.

  Zachariah Palme
r was planing a plank as I passed. Looking up he bade megood-morrow.

  'I have a book for you, lad,' he said.

  'I have but now finished the "Comus,"' I answered, for he had lent meJohn Milton's poem. 'But what is this new book, daddy?'

  'It is by the learned Locke, and treateth of states and statecraft. Itis but a small thing, but if wisdom could show in the scales it wouldweigh down many a library. You shall have it when I have finished it,to-morrow mayhap or the day after. A good man is Master Locke. Is he notat this moment a wanderer in the Lowlands, rather than bow his knee towhat his conscience approved not of?'

  'There are many good men among the exiles, are there not?' said I.

  'The pick of the country,' he answered. 'Ill fares the land that drivesthe highest and bravest of its citizens away from it. The day is coming,I fear, when every man will have to choose betwixt his beliefs and hisfreedom. I am an old man, Micah boy, but I may live long enough to seestrange things in this once Protestant kingdom.'

  'But if these exiles had their way,' I objected, 'they would placeMonmouth upon the throne, and so unjustly alter the succession.'

  'Nay, nay,' old Zachary answered, laying down his plane. 'If they useMonmouth's name, it is but to strengthen their cause, and to show thatthey have a leader of repute. Were James driven from the throne, theCommons of England in Parliament assembled would be called upon toname his successor. There are men at Monmouth's back who would not stirunless this were so.'

  'Then, daddy,' said I, 'since I can trust you, and since you will tellme what you do really think, would it be well, if Monmouth's standard beraised, that I should join it?'

  The carpenter stroked his white beard and pondered for a while. 'It is apregnant question,' he said at last, 'and yet methinks that there is butone answer to it, especially for your father's son. Should an end be putto James's rule, it is not too late to preserve the nation in its oldfaith; but if the disease is allowed to spread, it may be that even thetyrant's removal would not prevent his evil seed from sprouting. I hold,therefore, that should the exiles make such an attempt, it is the dutyof every man who values liberty of conscience to rally round them. Andyou, my son, the pride of the village, what better use could you makeof your strength than to devote it to helping to relieve your countryof this insupportable yoke? It is treasonable and dangerouscounsel--counsel which might lead to a short shrift and a bloodydeath--but, as the Lord liveth, if you were child of mine I should saythe same.'

  So spoke the old carpenter with a voice which trembled with earnestness,and went to work upon his plank once more, while I, with a few words ofgratitude, went on my way pondering over what he had said to me. I hadnot gone far, however, before the hoarse voice of Solomon Sprent brokein upon my meditations.

  'Hoy there! Ahoy!' he bellowed, though his mouth was but a few yardsfrom my ear. 'Would ye come across my hawse without slacking weigh? Clewup, d'ye see, clew up!'

  'Why, Captain,' I said, 'I did not see you. I was lost in thought.'

  'All adrift and without look-outs,' quoth he, pushing his way throughthe break in the garden hedge. 'Odd's niggars, man! friends are notso plentiful, d'ye see, that ye need pass 'em by without a dip o' theensign. So help me, if I had had a barker I'd have fired a shot acrossyour bows.'

  'No offence, Captain,' said I, for the veteran appeared to be nettled;'I have much to think of this morning.'

  'And so have I, mate,' he answered, in a softer voice. 'What think ye ofmy rig, eh?' He turned himself slowly round in the sunlight as he spoke,and I perceived that he was dressed with unusual care. He had a bluesuit of broadcloth trimmed with eight rows of buttons, and breeches ofthe same material with great bunches of ribbon at the knee. His vestwas of lighter blue picked out with anchors in silver, and edged witha finger's-breadth of lace. His boot was so wide that he might have hadhis foot in a bucket, and he wore a cutlass at his side suspended from abuff belt, which passed over his right shoulder.

  'I've had a new coat o' paint all over,' said he, with a wink.'Carramba! the old ship is water-tight yet. What would ye say, now, wereI about to sling my hawser over a little scow, and take her in tow?'

  'A cow!' I cried.

  'A cow! what d'ye take me for? A wench, man, and as tight a little craftas ever sailed into the port of wedlock.'

  'I have heard no better news for many a long day,' said I; 'I did noteven know that you were betrothed. When thou is the wedding to be?'

  'Go slow, friend--go slow, and heave your lead-line! You have got outof your channel, and are in shoal water. I never said as how I wasbetrothed.'

  'What then?' I asked.

  'I am getting up anchor now, to run down to her and summon her. Lookye, lad,' he continued, plucking off his cap and scratching hisragged locks; 'I've had to do wi' wenches enow from the Levant to theAntilles--wenches such as a sailorman meets, who are all paint andpocket. It's but the heaving of a hand grenade, and they strike theircolours. This is a craft of another guess build, and unless I steer wi'care she may put one in between wind and water before I so much asknow that I am engaged. What think ye, heh? Should I lay myself boldlyalongside, d'ye see, and ply her with small arms, or should I workmyself clear and try a long range action? I am none of your slippery,grease-tongued, long-shore lawyers, but if so be as she's willing for amate, I'll stand by her in wind and weather while my planks hold out.'

  'I can scarce give advice in such a case,' said I, 'for my experience isless than yours. I should say though that you had best speak to her fromyour heart, in plain sailor language.'

  'Aye, aye, she can take it or leave it. Phoebe Dawson it is, the sisterof the blacksmith. Let us work back and have a drop of the right Nantsbefore we go. I have an anker newly come, which never paid the King agroat.'

  'Nay, you had best leave it alone,' I answered.

  'Say you so? Well, mayhap you are right. Throw off your moorings, then,and clap on sail, for we must go.'

  'But I am not concerned,' said I.

  'Not concerned! Not--' he was too much overcome to go on, and couldbut look at me with a face full of reproach. 'I thought better of you,Micah. Would you let this crazy old hulk go into action, and not standby to fire a broadside?'

  'What would you have me do then?'

  'Why, I would have you help me as the occasion may arise. If I startto board her, I would have you work across the bows so as to rakeher. Should I range, up on the larboard quarter, do you lie, on thestarboard. If I get crippled, do you draw her fire until I refit. What,man, you would not desert me!'

  The old seaman's tropes and maritime conceits were not alwaysintelligible to me, but it was clear that he had set his heart upon myaccompanying him, which I was equally determined not to do. At lastby much reasoning I made him understand that my presence would be morehindrance than help, and would probably be fatal to his chances ofsuccess.

  'Well, well,' he grumbled at last, 'I've been concerned in no suchexpedition before. An' it be the custom for single ships to engage, I'llstand to it alone. You shall come with me as consort, though, and standto and fro in the offing, or sink me if I stir a step.'

  My mind was full of my father's plans and of the courses which laybefore me. There seemed to be no choice, however, as old Solomon wasin dead earnest, but to lay the matter aside for the moment and see theupshot of this adventure.

  'Mind, Solomon,' said I, 'I don't cross the threshold.'

  'Aye, aye, mate. You can please yourself. We have to beat up against thewind all the way. She's on the look-out, for I hailed her yesternight,and let her know as how I should bear down on her about seven bells ofthe morning watch.'

  I was thinking as we trudged down the road that Phoebe would need to belearned in sea terms to make out the old man's meaning, when he pulledup short and clapped his hands to his pockets.

  'Zounds!' he cried, 'I have forgot to bring a pistol.'

  'In Heaven's name!' I said in amazement, 'what could you want with apistol?'

  'Why, to make signals with,' said he. 'Odds me
that I should have forgotit! How is one's consort to know what is going forward when the flagshipcarries no artillery? Had the lass been kind I should have fired onegun, that you might know it.'

  'Why,' I answered, 'if you come not out I shall judge that all is well.If things go amiss I shall see you soon.'

  'Aye--or stay! I'll hoist a white jack at the port-hole. A white jackmeans that she hath hauled down her colours. Nombre de Dios, when Iwas a powder-boy in the old ship _Lion_, the day that we engaged the_Spiritus Sanctus_ of two tier o' guns--the first time that ever I heardthe screech of ball--my heart never thumped as it does now. What say yeif we run back with a fair wind and broach that anker of Nants?'

  'Nay, stand to it, man,' said I; for by this time, we had come to theivy-clad cottage behind which was the village smithy. 'What, Solomon!an English seaman never feared a foe, either with petticoats or withoutthem.'

  'No, curse me if he did!' quoth Solomon, squaring his shoulders, 'nevera one, Don, Devil, or Dutchman; so here goes for her!' So saying he madehis way into the cottage, leaving me standing by the garden wicket, halfamused and half annoyed at this interruption to my musings.

  As it proved, the sailor had no very great difficulty with his suit, andsoon managed to capture his prize, to use his own language. I heard fromthe garden the growling of his gruff voice, and a good deal of shrilllaughter ending in a small squeak, which meant, I suppose, that he wascoming to close quarters. Then there was silence for a little while, andat last I saw a white kerchief waving from the window, and perceived,moreover, that it was Phoebe herself who was fluttering it. Well, shewas a smart, kindly-hearted lass, and I was glad in my heart that theold seaman should have such a one to look after him.

  Here, then, was one good friend settled down finally for life. Anotherwarned me that I was wasting my best years in the hamlet. A third, themost respected of all, advised me openly to throw in my lot with theinsurgents, should the occasion arise. If I refused, I should havethe shame of seeing my aged father setting off for the wars, whilstI lingered at home. And why should I refuse? Had it not long been thesecret wish of my heart to see something of the great world, and whatfairer chance could present itself? My wishes, my friend's advice, andmy father's hopes all pointed in the one direction.

  'Father,' said I, when I returned home, 'I am ready to go where youwill.'

  'May the Lord be glorified!' he cried solemnly. 'May He watch overyour young life, and keep your heart steadfast to the cause which isassuredly His!'

  And so, my dear grandsons, the great resolution was taken, and I foundmyself committed to one side in the national quarrel.