Hereafter my recollection of themêléethat ensued has little clearness; all was noise and confusion, the band of conspirators having burst out from their hiding in the granary in desperate effort to achieve their wicked end even in that eleventh hour and very moment of discovery. And even then they might have found success but for Roan Charley and his rider, which is to me ever a joy to remember; for, though I recall little and confusedly what befell around me, I know that after the fall beneath Charley's hoofs of that rascal (the same that Ned had supposed a very civil servant of his mother), we reached at once the door in the wall of the granary; but not in time to prevent the sortie of three men with sword and pistol in hand (the rest, I believe, came forth by a door on the other side). With two of these His Highness was very speedily and coolly engaged, while the third was aiming a clean downward cut at his head with a great sword whose gleam seems yet burned in upon my eyes as I write and remember. And then, in some manner, Charley and I were upon him, and my blade received the stroke meant for His Highness's unprotected head. And after that I thought something did break (as indeed it did, being the blade of my brother Rupert's sword). I heard the shouts and the running feet of friends closing round, and then all was darkness and nothing.
The next I knew was a burning in mouth and throat, and awoke to find myself swallowing some liquid, very foul and ill-savored, held to my lips by a gentleman I did not know. I afterwards learned the liquor was Dutch, and calledschnapps, the man none other than the great Count Schomberg, late Marshal of France, and once high in favor of His Majesty King Lewis; but now chief in command under His Highness of Orange, having abandoned the highest of military honors and the favor of the greatest King upon earth for the cause of religion.
So, opening my eyes and looking round, when I had done with coughing over that vile liquor, I saw not only that a numerous company stood around, but also that here and there upon the grass among the trees lay several men, in strange and twisted attitudes such as I had never before seen; and something told me that these were dead; and I knew that I was upon a little field of battle, and straightway was like again to have swooned, when one behind me said in the French language and kindly tones, but in manner of speech more guttural than men of that nation do mostly use: "Poor lad! 'T is like enough this is his first sight of blood."
Which words, calling to my mind how I was habited, and the whole memory therewith of the part I played, did somehow stiffen my courage and arouse my spirit, so that I said, with what of hardihood I could bring into the words: "Indeed, I ask your pardon, gentlemen all. 'T was the fatigue, I do suppose, of riding fifteen miles at such a pace, and to the back of that my great fear for the life and welfare of His Highness of Orange. I pray you, tell me," I continued, looking round among the company, "whether His Highness be unhurt?"
And then one came from behind me, and spoke to me in that same voice that had but now pitied me in the French idiom for my first sight of blood-shedding. And when I saw him I knew him for the great Prince I had ridden to defend. This time, however, he spoke in English, using that language certainly with little ease and frequent errors, which yet I shall make no essay to reproduce in this my narrative, lest I should thereby bring something of ridicule into an address ever princely and dignified, and, on this occasion at least, full of grace and courtesy. Much, I know, has been said and written of the harshness of his manner, the bitterness of his tongue, and even of a certain Dutch boorishness in behavior, of all which I saw nothing at our first meeting.
Three months later, when our troubles were well past, Mr. William Bentinck did tell me one afternoon that we walked in St. James's Park, how to this great but somewhat phlegmatic nature the excitement of danger was a kind of stimulant necessary to the bringing forward the lighter and most pleasing qualities of his character; that he had never seen him gayer, more kindly, nor lighter of heart and countenance than in the press of a losing fight, himself dismounted and fighting hand to hand with an advancing enemy, merrily jesting the while his left hand wielded with deadly effect the sword that his right arm was too sore hurt to hold. And I do suppose it was to this quality in him that I owed the sweet and noble charm of his first reception of me.
"Young gentleman," said His Highness, stretching out to me his hand, "it seems that I owe my health and perhaps my life to your timely presence and your sword." And I, here falling upon one knee to receive and kiss his hand, perceived that in my right I still held the hilt of Rupert's toledo, with the three inches of blade that remained to it. "And I hope," continued His Highness, as I let it fall upon the grass, "that the sword has taken all the hurt to itself."
"I thank Your Highness," I answered, as I rose, "I have taken indeed no hurt at all, and should ask your pardon for so unsoldierly swooning in your presence. But indeed 't is the first time I have seen sword drawn in anger, and I had ridden near fifteen miles at extreme speed to warn Your Highness of the plot that was toward."
"And from this good fellow I hear not only of that great and rapid riding, but that you come from my friend, Sir Michael Drayton," said the Prince, indicating with his glance Christopher Kidd, who stood by, loosing the girths of his steaming horse—the only one of my company that had yet overtaken his leader. "Are you then Sir Michael's son?—or, perhaps, his grandson?"
"Neither the one nor the other, sir," I said, glad that he did so form his question; "but I do use to live at Drayton Manor, and Sir Michael is my nearest of kin that lives." And I was glad that Captain Royston was beyond ear-shot, being busy among the prisoners taken, whom very shortly he left in the hands of their guards, and approached the Prince, saluting as he came.
"There are five slain upon the ground, Your Highness," he said, "and seven taken in the act, of whom six bore arms; one of these is even now, I suppose, at the point of death, and one other, I think, has made good his escape, he being the thirteenth, which makes, as far as we are informed, the full tale."
"See that no more slip through your fingers, Captain Royston," replied His Highness, with something of severity; adding more freely that he was indebted to them all for prompt and vigorous defence of his person; then, perceiving that Captain Royston lingered with further matter in his mind, he asked him what it was.
"With Your Highness's permission I would speak briefly as Edward Royston of Royston, rather than as one holding Your Highness's commission," he said; and, the Prince nodding assent, he went on to express in words very simple and well chosen, the dismay he had felt, and the extreme regret and shame he had suffered, that so wicked an attempt on His Highness's life had been made on his land and under the very walls of his father's house.
Now when the Prince had noted the honesty of his handsome and open countenance, and perceived the simple candor of his address, his heart—by no means the easiest, as I was soon to know, of such access—was a little touched; for, with much benignity, laying a hand on Ned's shoulder, he said very kindly that his satisfaction with the officer was only equalled by his obligation to the host; in proof whereof he then expressed his purpose to entrust to Captain Royston's keeping for the coming night the persons of himself and the seven prisoners. His conference with "Captain Jennings" being but commenced, he purposed after dinner to continue in conversation with that gentleman until a conclusion should be reached; to send him on his way with two troopers as far as Sherborne that same evening; and to return himself to Exeter the following morning, going somewhat out of his way, did nothing intervene to forbid, in order to paying a visit to the venerable Sir Michael Drayton, to whom, said His Highness, he felt himself in much obligation.
At this point he was interrupted by a very dreadful groan from the wounded prisoner, and—"I fear, Captain," he said, "there is one of our prisoners will soon be in stronger keeping than even your fine house and great loyalty can give him. Let us see if anything may be done to lighten his pain." Whereupon His Highness drew near the dying man, who had been moved a little apart from his fellows.
Captain Royston and Mr. William Bentinck, who, with displeasure clearly marked upon his countenance, had followed the Prince's words to his host, joined him by the side of the dying man, of whom my view, as I stood modestly behind, was plainer than I could wish. Indeed it was a dreadful sight that I take no pleasure to recall. His Highness, bending down very tenderly, wiped the bloody foam from the tortured lips; the wandering eyes fixed themselves upon the face of the man they had watched to slay, and then: "The priest—the priest!" said the dying man.
"Poor fool!" muttered Count Schomberg in French; "he fondly hopes a priest might yet bring him to heaven."
"The priest—the priest!" repeated the sufferer, but more faintly.
"A priest may at least smooth his passage from earth," said the Prince, very pitifully, when one stepped out from among the prisoners, saying: "I am a priest. If he needs the comfort of the Church——"
But the dying man interrupted his words. With a last effort he raised himself a little, and said in a stronger voice, but broken with gasping sobs: "It was the priest—it was he that brought me here—brought me to this. God's curse upon him!" And so he died.
But I marked that his eye had not fallen upon him that offered the comforts of religion. This man was tall and dark, of a countenance marked by great nobility, and expressive of a great sorrow, of which I could not readily determine whether the cause were constant or occasional, so suitable did it appear to the lines of a face at once ascetic and severe. There was that in his eyes, dark and deep set, moreover, that drew my gaze in a manner I could by no means account for—which is indeed little wonderful, seeing the man was my mother's son and my father's, and I knew it not. To myself I had just said that the man was not wicked, and but suffered for his evil company, when the Prince addressed him in tones very different from those I had hitherto heard him use: "You keep ill company, Sir Priest," he said.
There was a little pause ere the priest replied, while the two men gazed, each unyielding, in the other's eyes. Then: "That I am not of the company you find me in," said the priest, "is less strange than to find a Prince of Your Highness's descent and marriage alliance consorting with rebels and traitors. In good sooth, I took less pleasure in these misguided and hapless wretches," he went on, speaking with a scornful kind of pity, "than it appears Your Highness does make shift to find in his uncle's rebel subjects. But I will tell Your Highness, more for the satisfaction of my carnal sense of honor than in hope or wish to obtain credence of him, that I had no part or lot in this attempt at wicked murder. Your friends," he added, waving his hand in indication of the officers standing by, "will doubtless tell you that I neither struck blow nor carried weapon. For myself I will add that I knew not the purpose of their gathering."
"I do not believe you," said the Prince.
"I do not expect belief," said the priest, unruffled in his calm.
His Highness turned from him in a disgust I thought very discourteous, and at once directed Captain Royston to see them all under lock and key. And so the prisoners were hurried off to the house, and I stood wondering had I ever before set eyes on this naughty priest, when the Prince approached me, saying, as if nothing had interrupted our conversation: "I am sorry you have broke your sword, my pretty lad." And as he spoke there gathered around us some half-dozen of the officers and gentlemen that were there—Count Schomberg, to wit, and Mr. Bentinck, with him that we addressed as "Captain Jennings," and one that I was soon to know as M. de Rondiniacque, and some others. "But that loss," His Highness continued, "is easier repaired than the cleaving asunder of my poor brain-pan had been, which was like enough to come about, gentlemen, I take it, but for the lad here and his horse and sword."
"It is very true, Your Highness," said M. de Rondiniacque; then addressing me, he observed, courteously enough, but with something of raillery in his tone, that, if the guard I had used was not altogether of the schools, it had yet saved His Highness's life as surely as could the interference of amaître d'escrime.
"You are a good Protestant, M. de Rondiniacque," said the Prince, "and therefore, I make sure, read your Bible well and often." And at this the little company laughed as at an excellent jest. "You will no doubt have observed in the course of that reading that the pebble and the sling of the son of Jesse were sufficient to the overthrow of a most mighty man of war, even as this youth's sword came between my person and death, while themaître d'escrimewas not in the way."
His Highness here turned again to me, detaching at the same time his own sword from his side. He then drew it from its sheath, and, laying that upon the grass, wiped the blade very carefully with his handkerchief. And I do think the significance of that action would have made me well-nigh faint with sickness, with that poor fellow that had died in cursing some priest lying so near and so still, had not His Highness straightway handed me the hilt of the weapon that slew him.
"I prithee, good lad, take this in place of that which is broken," he said.
And then I forgot the dead man, and grew first hot and then cold for the great kindness shown to me. I dropped upon my knee, and—"I humbly thank you, sire," I said, "for so great an honor."
He reached out his hand to raise me.
"Kneel not to me, boy," he said; "nor call me sire. I am no king. But I hope you will keep the sword. 'T is a good blade."
"'T is the same," said Mr. Bentinck, "that His Highness did use at the siege of Maestricht, the day he received the musket-ball in his arm."
"You speak truth, friend William," replied the Prince. "That was an unlucky siege. I hope the sword will not bring you my ill-fortune, young gentleman; for I am at times an unlucky soldier. But, indeed, it is Count Schomberg here must bear the blame of Maestricht."
"Did he run, sir?" I asked with simple curiosity, as I gazed in wonder at the famous veteran.
"Ay, that he did," said the Prince, with a smile of much amusement, and also with something, I thought, of bitterness in the little lines about his lips; "for he was on the other side and ran after me. King Lewis has done me one good turn. His breach of faith with the Huguenots has made us friends. Is it not so, Count?" With which words he stretched a hand to the late Marshal of France; and then, turning again to me, he raised and gave me the scabbard of the sword, saying as he did so: "If you ever need good office of me, lad, bring me that sword as pledge of the boon you would have, even as we read in the romances was the custom of the princes of olden time. I have said it is a good blade, and I will buy it back with anything that lies in my power."
"Your Highness makes too much of my poor service," I said, as I thrust the sword in its sheath. "I did but what lay on me as a duty."
"I could wish all men did so much," he answered. "Will you have a commission in my army?"
"Commission!" said Mr. William Bentinck, with a kind of grunting laughter. "Commission! Why, 't is only a boy!
"I am no boy, sir," I replied. "But, indeed I doubt I am not man enough."
"Ah, well," said His Highness, "there is time enough. Princes, my good lad, are of all men the most exacting. Where we have encountered one act of good service we have ever an eye to receive more."
But here an orderly officer approaching from the house cut short this interview, no little to my satisfaction, although standing apart I could not but hear his report, which he said he had been bidden by Captain Royston to deliver to His Highness. It seems that, upon the noise of the fighting in the orchard coming to the ears of the troopers that were off duty and dining in the great kitchen of the house, they had turned out helter-skelter and run to our assistance, thus leaving for some minutes house and stable unprotected. When all was over, and the men settled again to duty and leisure, it was found that one horse was gone from the stable, another man's cloak, and the helmet of a third; the conclusion being, in short, that the escaped conspirator had passed that way, and was the thief. Which matters did afterwards prove not only true, but of much import to the fortunes of Drayton and Royston.
And thereafter came Captain Royston himself from the house to bid His Highness and following to dinner. To which His Highness bidding me with the rest, we left the orchard, and through the gardens drew near to the house.
I was now soon to find that it may be easier to assume a part than to throw it off. At His Highness's invitation I was no little dismayed, having at the moment but one desire—to get me home, I mean, without delay. At thought of the feminine armor of a petticoat I was filled with a courage greater than any I had yet appeared to show. So armed, I felt I could even, without overmuch blushing, confess the sex of Sir Michael Drayton's messenger. But this greatness of heart did at once forsake me, falling away into my great boots, as it seemed, at first thought of standing up in them and their kindred garments to say, before all these soldiers, or any one of them, "I am a woman!"
Seeking, then, for some means of evasion, I laid my hand, on our being come near to the house, upon the arm of M. de Rondiniacque, thinking his frank and laughing countenance to offer sure promise of a kindly nature. On his then pausing to observe me, I did draw him a little to one side, asking if it were possible and convenient to him to make my excuse to His Highness, seeing I was much set on returning immediately home.
He clapped a hand upon my shoulder, and looking down upon me very kindly, with yet a comical glitter of mirth in his eye,—"Why, my brave boy," said he, "I would very willingly do you a service, whether for your brave deed or your pretty manners. But, if you will take an old soldier's counsel," and at this word he twirled his small and very black mustachios mighty fiercely, "you will not risk offending so great a man as William, Prince of Orange-Nassau, in so strongly rising a tide of your fortune.Mon Dieu!" he cried, laughing and looking in my face too close and keenly for my comfort, "if the lad is not shy and timorous as any girl!" And with that he thrust his arm through mine, and, "If you will ever bear that commission His Highness named," he said, "you must learn to sit at meat with soldiers without blushing. Come, let us go in and contrive that we sit together. I doubt not that and a bumper or two will give you courage!"
After which I dared say no more, but, as he would have haled me by force into the dining-hall, I begged him stay a moment while I spoke with Christopher Kidd, to whom calling as he hung forlorn and hesitating on our rear, I begged him to ride out and pick up as many as might be of our straggling troop, and to send them one and all back to Drayton with news that all was well. Some signs of mirth appearing upon Christopher's face, which in that predicament of mine I found very foolish and inconvenient, I continued in harder tones and with words of command in place of forms of request: "Though you are but a soldier of a day, Kidd, I believe you know very well under whose command Sir Michael Drayton's small body of horse left home. Find of them such as you may within the space of two hours, and see that they carry out my orders. At the end of that time you will report here to the officer of the guard, and await my further pleasure to escort me on my return. I dine with His Highness."
Though little used to command, I was not unaccustomed to be obeyed, and Christopher, closing his mouth on his foolish grin with a jerk, saluted and marched off to the orchard and his horse with promptitude worthy of a veteran.
"Well spoken, little soldier!" cried M. de Rondiniacque. "These raw levies are the devil, and thrive on a diet of brimstone. 'T is true they need curses for the most part, but,mort de ma vie!we have not all such eyes as you to flash lightning on our recruits."
"He did begin his drill no earlier than this morning," said I, with assumption of much carelessness; for the anger that had, I believe, stayed Kidd from calling me madam, had left me so trembling that I feared M. de Rondiniacque holding me by the arm should perceive it. He but said, however, I should make an officer one day, whatever became of Kidd, and hurried me into the dining-hall. As we entered, the Prince was about taking his seat, and in the slight bustle of the rest following his example, M. de Rondiniacque and I slipped into two vacant seats at the lower end of the table.
On His Highness's right was seated "Captain Jennings," on his left Count Schomberg. Captain Royston also and Mr. Bentinck were at that end of the table, while I found myself, to my great discomfort, surrounded by junior officers of various nations, and, for the most part, younger even than my friend, M. de Rondiniacque. With at first great intent of courtesy, they hurried me from one embarrassment to another. Now they would have me drink deep; then, by way, I do suppose, of enlivening my spirits, they plied me with polyglottic histories of amorous adventure, growing by steady degrees ever less pleasing; till at length, finding me grow shorter in reply and shrinking closer, as it were, into my shell, they abandoned the attempt to include me in their talk, and chattered among themselves as I wish, rather than believe, was not their custom. Much, I thank Heaven, from the babel of the many tongues, I missed; yet did I perforce hear more than enough.
After sitting no great while at meat, His Highness, to my great satisfaction, retired, requesting the attendance of "Captain Jennings" alone, and making Captain Royston, as their host, occupy at the head of the table the seat he was leaving.
More than once before the Prince's withdrawing, I had found Ned's eyes fixed upon me, with the gaze of one that in vain pursues a memory intangible. Now, although it had mightily pleased me to bewilder the man in baffling his pursuit had we been alone together, I yet, in that company I was in, found his enquiring regard not a little disconcerting; and, soon perceiving that his changed position at the table increased the frequency of the attack, I made shift to summon sufficient courage to ask his permission, on some plea of fatigue and indisposition, to retire. Which request he very courteously granted, begging, however, that I would not leave Royston before he should find time and opportunity to speak with me.
And so I found my way to the one chamber in the house that I knew; madam's withdrawing-room, to wit, which I had twice entered when Ned had taken me, a little maid, to see his mother; a large room, whose casement, broad, low, and heavily mullioned, looked out with a very noble aspect across copse and meadow, where the land fell away to the southward beyond the stream whose rocky channel had been one of the defences of the house in former days. And, as I stood idly gazing from the window, and drumming upon the panes with idle fingers, and wondering when Farmer Kidd would return, I remembered how in the old days Ned had told me of some wondrous means of escape that there was from that old house, which he would one day, if I should grow wise enough, reveal to me. And I wished that I had learned it then, that I might use it now, and so be quit at once of Prince, breeches, and a false position.
The landscape fading into the early darkness of late autumn, I stretched myself, half sitting and half lying, on the settle near the fire that burned fitfully on the great hearth of the chamber; and here soon forgot the passing of time in a doze induced, as I suppose, by the warmth of the fire, and the fatigue of my ride and the subsequent excitements. From this slumber I was aroused, how long after my falling into it I know not, by the entrance of a trooper, doing duty as servant, and bearing two heavy and branched silver candlesticks, filled with lighted candles. I was yet rubbing my eyes to clear my head of sleep and dreams, and striving to sit upright, when I caught my right spur on my left boot, and straightway remembered who I was, and how little like it I appeared. And then, close on the heels of the soldier with the candles, comes to me M. de Rondiniacque.
"Aha, my toy soldier!" he cried, as his eye lighted on me, "so 't is here you have been hiding. And sleeping, I see. Well, you may sleep on, if you will, for His Highness bids me bring you his most urgent request that you will here stay the night, in order to accompany him in the morning on his intended visit to your kinsman, Sir Michael—something——"
"Sir Michael Drayton," I replied. "I do suppose, sir," I went on, "that the Prince's urgent request differs little from a command?"
"Faith, you suppose well, young gentleman," said M. de Rondiniacque. "And therefore I made bold to send your man, when he returned from fulfilling your order, back to the place you named. Captain Royston has already much ado to feed and bed us all."
"And did Kidd obey your orders against mine?" I asked, rather that, saying something, I might cover my dismay than in any anxiety of discipline.
"Having seen us together, I think he made little distinction, my little bashaw," said M. de Rondiniacque, laughing. "I threatened him, moreover, with your displeasure, if he delayed. And now I must to His Highness."
And with that he left me, thinking very sadly I had enough of being a man. Had there been a woman in the house, I had gone to her, and told her my story. But to none of all these men did I dare to breathe my true name and state; unless, indeed, it had been to Captain Royston. And I murmured over to myself that title, which did ring so strange, and yet so proudly, in my ear. It went stiffly, too, upon the tongue that was once used to say: "Hither, Ned; not so, Ned; nay, Ned; but Iwillhave it so." Well, Ned, I thought, was ever tender with me, and I might, indeed, at a pinch, make shift to tell him my name and troubles; but—and then in my mind there lifted up his head a little devil of mischief, and I vowed I would not so tell him till I should be enforced; but, having taken a vagary to be a man, I would hold fast to my purpose, that I might from behind this mask see more of the man and to what he was grown from the boy that had been my playmate and childhood's lover. I was fain not a little, moreover, certainly, to discover with what complexion of memory he retained the thought of little Philippa Drayton. And I thought it was mightily in favor of my plan that, although on that great night of his escape from Kirke's men, we had spoken together and our hands had met, yet since I was a little maid he had never looked upon my countenance.
At last I heard his step in the gallery without, and, for all its weight and its jingle of sabre and spur, I had known that footfall among many, even had I not known him in the house.
Captain Royston came into the chamber, followed by him that had but now fetched candles, but bearing this time an armful of wood and a blazing pine-knot. To draw my old friend's gaze, I heaved a great sigh, and gazed sadly in the fire, and knew, though I scarce saw, his eyes to turn on me. He crossed the room to the further corner, where I could well mark him without any show of particular regard, and threw wide a small door disclosing the foot of a narrow and winding stair.
"Go up," said he to the soldier, "to the room above; kindle a good fire upon the hearth; light the candles, and when the fire is well burning, return hither and stand sentry over this door till His Highness come."
And as the man ascended the stair, Captain Royston closed the door behind him, and turned to me, who kept my gaze fast on the fire.
"'T was a heavy sigh you heaved as I entered, young friend," he said, in a most gentle voice.
"Yes, faith," I answered, "it was heavy." And again I sighed.
He then asked me what it was did make me sad, and I replied I did not use to be from home, and was mighty lonesome.
"Nay, lad," he cried cheerily, laying a hand of comfort on my shoulder, "'t is but till the morrow. You have to-day borne yourself like a man; be not now homesick like a very maid. There is company enough. Why didst leave the table?"
"I was near falling with fatigue, sir," I answered; "and—and—and, in truth, I liked not the talk at the table where I sat."
"Poor lad!" said he, gently patting the shoulder where his hand did lie, and thereafter drawing the hand away; "poor lad! Would you grow to be a man? Harden your ears—your ears, mark me, not your heart." And I said nothing to him, but to myself that I feared both would need it ere long.
And then there came to us M. de Rondiniacque in search of Captain Royston, crying jovially: "Aha! have I found you, truant Master Host? His Highness did but now ask for you, and wonders somewhat, I think, at your long absence."
To which Royston replied: "I warrant His Highness knows that a host without hostess or servants is no little put to it to house, feed, and bed so many guests. I will go to him, and make my excuse." He then turned to me, saying: "Prithee, gentle friend, be of better comfort. It is not to His Highness alone that your great service has been rendered, and I would not have you cheerless. Godemar, hold the lad in talk a while. All this is strange to him, and he is overborne with fatigue." He then took some steps toward the door, but again turned to my side, and—"Speak your best English, Godemar," said he, "and your modest jests, if you have them. None of your ribald tales,—'t is a home-bred youth." Upon which, with a kindly nod to me, and a slap on the shoulder of a weight more suited to my garments than my sex, Captain Royston left the room.
M. de Rondiniacque looked upon me with a merry twinkle in his eye.
"Ma foi!" he said, "M. le Capitaine lays heavy commands upon me. Must I even do as he says?"
"It were best," I answered, with some severity, and never turning my eyes from the fire.
"I see not wherefore," said he; "I would gladly cheer you, lad, and he would take all the merriment from our jesting."
"Indeed," I replied, "I had rather never laugh again than hear more such talk as did pass for wit around us at dinner."
He flung himself with a movement of much petulance into a chair on the other side of the hearth, and—"My faith!" he cried, "'t is even as they did tell me: a sorry land and a sad! A country,mort de ma vie!where one must shift with beer for wine, mists for sunshine, and hags and hoydens for women."
"Alack!" I cried, being vastly amused; "have the women also displeased your lordship?"
"Gadso!" answered M. de Rondiniacque, "they have, and mightily.Mon Dieu!in all the days since we set foot ashore I have not seen one I would stand to observe a second time. I begin to see it is easy to be a Puritan in such a land."
And when I did not answer him, he peered curiously across the flickering twilight into my face. Anon he rose and came to me, with one hand seizing me by the arm, and raising my chin, not over gently, with the other—"Ma foi" he said, laughing, "with laces and furbelows, and those great eyes, wouldst make a better thyself than any lass of them all."
So I began to tremble for my secret, and saw no way out but in anger; knowing, indeed, so little of the ways of men, that I was ignorant of running a greater danger in that attempt to avoid the less.
I straightway sprang to my feet, flinging off his hands, crying to him to let me be, or ill would follow, and laying hand upon and half drawing my sword.
"What, pepper-box!" cried M. de Rondiniacque, "what, will you quarrel for nothing? Nay," he went on, with a great laugh, "do but see it ruffle! Come, boy, take your hand from your sword, or I will take the sword from you."
By this, between his tone of contempt and my own fear that I made but a sorry figure, I was trembling with anger no longer simulated; when, on my making wholly to disengage my sword, the Frenchman did pounce upon me with the swiftness of a hawk, catching my wrists, one in each of his hands, in a grasp that seemed of iron. I would have wrenched them free, but found each struggle to that end did bruise and pinch my poor flesh worse than the last. Being very near the point of tears, while yet in my heart raging with anger, I called aloud on Captain Royston, who, to my good fortune, did enter the room even as I called.
"Heyday!" he cried, "what 's the matter? Do not hurt the boy, Godemar," he went on, when drawing near he saw how I struggled to free my hands.
M. de Rondiniacque laughed again as he let me go. "The little fool hurts himself with striving," he said. "Had I not held him, he had run me through with the pretty sword the Prince did give him.Mon Dieu!he is anxious to flesh it."
"How is this, Master——?" says Captain Royston, mighty sternly, till checked for lack of a name to give me,—"on my life, I know not how you are called."
Now this was a question I had no wish to answer without some previous consideration; so, knowing I could scarce keep out of my voice the sound of tears, the pain of whose coming was now some minutes clutching at my throat, I resolved to use them as cover to my disregarding his enquiry.
"He has hurt my hands," I said, with a little sob, rubbing my wrists the while in the manner of a spoiled and petulant child.
"What, baby!" he cried; "I give you a friend to cheer you with his good heart and ready wit, and you must needs fall a-wrangling with him; and then, because he would curb your childish passion, must you weep like a very boy unbreeched?"
"I do not weep," I said; yet could I not check the next sob and some few tears that fell for the pain I had had.
"No more, lad, no more, for shame!" he answered. "There was a bold spirit in you not many hours ago. Be a man now, for the love of Heaven."
"With all my heart I would," said I, "if I did know the way of it; to the end that I might make him smart," I added, wagging my head in the direction of M. de Rondiniacque.
"Learn to take a jest as 't is meant," said Captain Royston, "and you may some day grow to it."
"I am as God did make me," I replied pettishly.
"It is rank heresy to cast the blame in that quarter," said M. de Rondiniacque.
At which Captain Royston laughed a little, but gently bade him hold his peace, saying: "The boy is in my care, and we cannot make a man of him before the morrow."
And now the entry of the Prince most happily put an end to the discussion of my shortcoming as a man. His Highness was attended by "Captain Jennings," Count Schomberg, and Mr. Bentinck, with a few other gentlemen. And as the doors were flung wide for them the trooper that had been about preparing the chamber above descended the little stair, closed the door behind him, and stood on guard immovable before it, with drawn sword.
The Prince appeared in the best of humors; of which the reason was very soon made plain.
"Captain Royston," said His Highness, coming over to the fire, "we are come to a happy end of our conferring, and 'Captain Jennings,' being pressed for time, must at once take himself again to the road. His escort is provided, and he would bid you farewell. It should indeed be to us all a melancholy parting, for 't is little to be hoped any man here will again encounterCaptain Jennings."
When the laugh due to the jest of a prince had risen and died away, "Captain Jennings" held out his hand to his host, and said: "'Jennings' owes you much, Captain Royston, though you are like, as His Highness well says, never to meet him again, yet in your ear will I tell you that he has a kinsman that is his very double and his best friend. I have reason for saying that this gentleman will in the happier days to come pass by no occasion of furthering the interest of so stanch a companion, and so generous a host, as Captain Edward Royston."
To which courteous speech honest Ned replied with some words of his duty to His Highness of Orange; and I knew well by a certain stiffness of his manner, which was still clearly marked as he wished him a safe and pleasant journey, that the favor of "Captain Jennings" was not such as he wished to earn.
That gentleman, after some other farewells of much grace and kindness, passed on to me where I stood apart, and with a very gracious smile on his noble countenance thanked me for the service I had done him. On my asking what that might be, he was at some pains to explain, in a voice meant for me alone, that but for my timely warning and protection to His Highness, that plot might well have had a very different and terrible ending; in the blame of which fatal conclusion he himself, from the peculiarity of his position, would almost certainly have become implicated. "I hope, therefore," he said, "that we shall meet again when I have thrown aside thisnom de guerreto which I have only a sort of left-handed right by marriage and necessity." And then first I guessed who he was. "But," he went on, "if I do seem to need a fresh introduction, young gentleman, when that day comes, I beg you will attribute my lack of memory to politic reasons."
By which, thinking him little likely to encounter and less to recognize me, I was vastly amused.
"I am ready to wager, my lord," I said, laughing a little, "that the fault will be neither yours nor the nation's, should you pass me by."
He looked at me for a moment with a glance so keen that I found it hard to support; then, bidding me farewell, very shortly took leave of the Prince and departed on his journey to Salisbury.
As the door closed upon him, His Highness crossed the chamber and tapped Captain Royston on the shoulder.
"You act with little wisdom, Captain," he said, with a merry laugh, "in the moment when the Protestant religion has triumphed over all else, to receive with coldness an offer of favor from him that is one day to be the first soldier in Europe."
"I trust, Your Highness," said Royston, with something of pride in his tone, "that I have not yet lost the favor of him that is."
"I see we shall have a courtier in you yet, Captain," said His Highness. "The day has been long, and I must needs ask my good host the way to my chamber. Sleep is a fickle mistress to me, and she must be wooed in season, or she will have none of me."
"Since the terrible danger Your Highness has this day escaped in my house but by the goodness of God and this young gentleman's courage," said Captain Royston, "I am resolved to beg Your Highness's acceptance rather of its most secure than its most luxurious chamber. At the head of this stair," he went on, making the sentry stand aside as he threw open the door, "is a room neither very large nor finely furnished. If Your Highness will, however, deign to make use of it, he will find the bed good and the chamber warm. It has no other approach, and with Your Highness's consent I will myself watch here during the night, while Lieutenant de Rondiniacque takes my place as officer of the watch, which has been doubled, and commands every approach."
"I thank you for your care of my safety, Captain Royston," said the Prince. "If the bed be as good as the supper, we will ask none better between this and London. But I believe you are over-cautious."
On Captain Royston's explaining that the honor of his house was involved in His Highness's safety within it, all his dispositions were very kindly and freely accepted. Not long after which His Highness, with some kind words to me on the service I had done him, and of his purposed visit on the morrow to Drayton, retired to the chamber already mentioned, being lighted by Captain Royston, and attended by Mr. Bentinck for some discussion of matters of state.
Whereafter I very soon found myself again alone, the rest departing in charge of M. de Rondiniacque, commissioned by our host to show each gentleman where he should lie. I say I was alone; for the sentry at the door of the stair to the Prince's chamber counted little as company, which I was fain to seek in the dancing of the flames upon the hearth and in my own thoughts. These were not uneasy, for I knew that Ned must return as he had gone, and that a word to him would be my protection if aught inconvenient should arise; nor were they long, for he soon returned.
The high back of the settle where I sat being between us, Captain Royston upon his return did not perceive me until, having dismissed the sentry and set his candlestick upon a table, he drew near the fire to warm himself; then, his eyes falling upon me—"Heyday, lad!" he cried, "I did think you abed and asleep by this. I scarce know how I came to forget you. Let me see—where should you lie to-night? The house is mighty full, and I would not put you with——"
"Let me share your watch here an hour, Captain," I said. "I am very wakeful, and it will be company for us both."
"Will you do so?" he asked with some eagerness, and once more glancing at me with that same look, at once curious and shy, that I had before noted. "Indeed I shall be glad of your company, were it only to help me keep open eyes." And with that he flung himself wearily into a seat over against me, hitching round his belt so that his sword lay between the long legs that, to rest them the better, he stretched full before him. "I was in the saddle all last night," he went on, "and indeed it seems a week since I was in a bed. So here let us sit, you and I, with the fate of England in our hands,"—at which he pointed to the door of the Prince's stairway. "Hast recovered of the spleen?"
I answered him that I was recovered.
"How came he to anger you?" he then asked me.
"Why, sir," I replied, "he did give bad names to all things in England; and then he fell foul of the women—and—and I do not like him."
"De Rondiniacque," said Captain Royston, "is a good comrade and a brave soldier; and, faith, I did think all women were fair to him. He will fall in love and again fall out thrice in a day. But no woman is long fair in his eyes when his fortune has been ill. There was a lass in Flanders—" and here he broke into a laugh, and I into a yawn of subterfuge, in hope to put him off his tale. For I feared, unjustly enough, more talk of that kind that I had comprehended but sufficiently to dislike. Whereat he asked if he wearied me, and I answered that he did not so, but that I would know if he were of a like complexion with M. de Rondiniacque in matters of women and love.
"Nay, indeed, lad," he answered, laughing again; "De Rondiniacque and I are little akin in such matters. I have, as he would say, the slower temper—perhaps the more constant."
"Constant!" said I; and as I said the word I could feel the little tremor in my laughter which I hoped his ear would not detect. "Constant to what—to whom? Ah, there is doubtless some lady that looks out over the endless canals and ugly windmills of flat Holland for your return, Captain Royston."
"Nay, nay," he answered, "there is no broad Dutch face wet with tears of my causing." And then the mirth died out of his voice, as with a very tender hesitancy he continued: "But there is, or there was, a little maid—a child—but, plague on me! what do I babble of? And what does so young a lad as you know of these things?"
"H'm-m-m!" said I, as one that could, if he would but speak, lay claim to knowledge enough and to spare.
"What, what!" he cried, mocking me. "Is your heart even as tender as your years? Does the baby think he knows what love is?"
"On my conscience, yes," I answered; "but I may know and never feel it, I do suppose."
"What an outlandish boy it is!" said Ned, laughing; and, more gravely, "when you love, lad, and would have your lady look upon you, be as when you served us so well this day, and not the child that is disordered by the chance word of a jolly soldier. I have heard tell that women do love one that is a man, be his vows, even as De Rondiniacque's, never so brittle."
"Perhaps they do," I answered; and wondered, sickly a little in my heart, how it would fare with me if his were so. "But," I continued, "if men's vows are so light, what of that little maid?"
And my gallant Captain seemed to retire, as it were, again into his shell, saying he would speak of her no more, and that indeed he knew not wherefore he had called her to mind. Whereto I said that maybe I could tell him.
"'T is little likely," said he, smiling as one that suffers the gambols of a merry child, even to the peril of a wound but half healed.
"But tell you I can," I persisted; "you spoke of her, not because she did come to your mind, but because she is never out of it. Is it not so?"
Again he looked at me with that glance of enquiry.
"Indeed, I think it is so," he replied; "but how you should know it, Master——, by my life, here have I had all manner of converse with you, even to the telling things that have not passed my lips this three years, and yet I know not your name. Prithee, tell it me."
"My name is Drayton," I said.
"Is it even so?" cried Ned. "It is strange. Where do you live?"
"From here some five leagues on the great road, Salisbury way," I answered.
"At Drayton Manor, is it?" he asked with great eagerness.
"At Drayton Manor," I replied.
"But old Sir Michael," says Ned, "had no son of your youth."
"Nay," said I, "I am no son of Sir Michael. But he is my nearest of kin, and in his house do I live this many a day."
"Ah, so! I have heard," said Royston musingly, "of other branches of the family. But, if Drayton be your home, you can tell me of—of the child, your cousin; of Mistress Philippa Drayton, I mean, Sir Michael's daughter."
"Aha! the little maid! At last we come at his little maid!" I cried, clapping my hands together in a manner that suited but ill, as I suppose, with my boots and spurs.
But he, like the man he was, being much occupied in attempt to conceal the secret he was about revealing, did not mark me, but sternly stiffened his face and made straight his back, and replied: "I said not it was she. But I would have her news. Is she well, and is she now at Drayton?"
"Gad 's my life!" I answered, feeling very blusterous and naughty as I used my father's favorite oath, "it is so. She is well, and she is at Drayton. I would she were not. She does keep her heart safe for me, the baggage! Troth, I have little mind to her—a bouncing, overgrown country wench, of ill manners, loud tongue, and shrewish speech. Pah!" Whereat I twisted my mouth into a grimace very disgustful, and I saw the light of anger come into his eye.
"You shall not so speak of that lady," he said, in a tone that was not loud, yet had in it that which made one part of me shake with fear, while the rest of the woman was singing a little inward song of thanksgiving. Whereof it is like enough he saw in my face some sign, for he went on more gently to say he knew it was not so; that I but railed at her in mischief; that I mocked at him because, with something womanish that is in a half-grown boy, I had divined the secret of his love. "My heart," he said, rising from his seat with eyes that looked afar, as if none was by him, "has never left her keeping since she did ride upon my shoulder, but her little hands ever hold me fast, even as they did use to cling and grip me by the hair." With that he passed his hand over his head, as if he still did feel the clutching baby fingers. Then he came back to me. "You see, sir, I let you know at what it is you mock. Yet if you own the words were but spoken in jest, I will pass the matter by."
And then I knew that I had been playing with fire, and made all haste to quench it, owning with averted face that I had indeed but spoken out of mischief to anger him, and saying that the girl was well enough. It was, I suppose, from pride that he took no note of this grudging opinion, yet it did not control his curiosity.
"And does she keep me in mind?" he asked, as he sank again into his seat.
"'T is like enough," I answered, as if I cared little for the matter. "I have heard her name you."
"In what terms?" said he; "I pray you, tell me what she said."
"Indeed, I do forget," I replied, mischief rising once more in my heart. "And I will wager there have been times when you have forgot the minx as readily as I would, if you would but let me, Captain."
"A fig for your wager!" said Royston lightly. "Why, I have never, since I was out of England, entered a new town but I have bought some toy or jewel for her." And I saw his hand steal to the breast of his coat, and, guessing that there was a pocket beneath, I began at once to be mighty curious to know what was in it, and to think my masquerade had lasted near long enough when it kept me from my rights.
"Do you carry them?" I asked, striving to keep all eagerness out of my manner.
"Nay, nay," he answered; and, had he been another man, I had thought his smile and the short and hesitating laugh that followed it well-nigh foolish: "Nay, 't is but a pair of the new kid-leather gloves that they do use in France." And here he drew a small packet from the pocket I had divined, and added, with much tenderness: "They did make me think of her pretty hands, and I could no more put them away from me."
And, as he regarded the packet and gently smoothed the wrapper, I snatched it from his hand, and—"Let me see," I said, and proceeded to unfold it.
"Gently, gently!" cried Ned; "they must not be so handled."
"Ay, they would fit me well," said I, measuring one against my left hand. "And our hands are near of a size. Will you give them to me in her stead, sir?"
"That will I not, young Avarice," he answered, recovering the gloves with a snatch that took me by surprise. "My lady's gloves, indeed! what next, monkey? Do you think, because you have a small fist and handle a glove like a great girl, that you will get all you ask?"
"Well," said I, pouting and growing reckless in my delight of the game I played, "well, I shall have them of her in the end."
"No more, jackanapes," he answered angrily, and I scarce know how I should have fared had not the door at the foot of the Prince's stair at that moment opened to admit Mr. William Bentinck.
"His Highness is retired, Captain Royston," he said. "He renews his thanks to you."
To which Captain Royston replied that he wished the fare deserved them better, and enquired whether Mr. Bentinck knew the way to his chamber.
"I do," he replied. "I wish you a good-night, Captain Royston. It were well," he added, with a dark and significant glance, "that no further alarm befell—in your house, Captain."
"I am so much of your mind, sir," said Royston, "that I have asked and obtained His Highness's consent here to watch the night through myself. I wish you good rest." Mr. Bentinck turned again as he reached the door, saying that His Highness had enquired of him where the prisoners had been lodged that were taken after the affair in the orchard.
"They lie under lock and guard in the strong-room above," said Royston; "all but the priest, who is in the chamber that adjoins it on the left, for greater safety. I did not think it well to leave his clever head to work among them." And here M. de Rondiniacque, looking into the room as he went his rounds, very readily undertook, at Captain Royston's desire, to conduct Mr. Bentinck, that he might with his own eyes, as Captain Royston said, see how these prisoners were disposed. They being departed on this business, Captain Royston stood gazing moodily into the fire. It seemed he had quite forgotten me; and, since it did not fall with my wishes to be left out of his thoughts, I plucked him timidly by the sleeve, and asked if I had angered him with my freakishness.
"No, lad, no," he answered, still gazing into the fire. "I know not indeed why I told you as much, unless it be that the Drayton face of you did bring to mind old days, and made me think my thoughts aloud. I know my poor secret is safe with a Drayton." And then he turned and looked hard in my face.
And under his gaze I trembled, and had much ado not to throw my arms about his neck and cry "Ned" to him. And yet I dared not, for shame of my clothes, and so, to change the color of his thought, I said: "That man does eye you with mistrust, Captain."
"He is no friend to me," said Ned, "nor ever has been. But His Highness has no more faithful servant and friend than William Bentinck. He had of late warning from France that the Prince's life was sought after, and that a certain priest should lead the assassins. To-day the attack is made, a priest is taken, and all in my house, and I one of the few that knew His Highness should come to this place. I can scarce wonder if he look on me with suspicion, and would see himself how we guard the dogs above there in the strong-room."
And then Mr. Bentinck and M. de Rondiniacque returned. The first was pleased to approve all he had seen, but pointed out that the prison of the priest was the chamber to the right of the strong-room, and not on its left, as Captain Royston had said. M. de Rondiniacque here explained that the prisoner had at his order been transferred from the room to the other, on the report of the sentry that two bars in the window of the priest's first lodging were rotten and might easily be burst.
"It will serve as well, nay, better," said Captain Royston, still dreamily gazing into the fire. And Mr. Bentinck, expressing himself satisfied that all was well, departed to his chamber in company of M. de Rondiniacque.
Now as these matters had for me little of interest, and as my fatigue was great, I had been growing very weary and full of sleep; so it came that when these gentlemen left us I signified my pleasure thereat with a great yawn of weariness and a long sigh of satisfaction.
"Poor lad!" cried Ned, with such tenderness as he was wont to use to the child that had so loved and hectored him, "poor lad, you are faint for sleep. I will see where we may put you."
"It is not sleep, Captain," I said, stifling a second yawn. "But I take little interest in prisoners, and I am, oh! so thirsty."
"'T is the long ride, and your dinner was naught," he answered. "Keep your eyes open, and watch a while here in my place, and I will bring you food and wine. I pray you, do not close your eyes."
And as he neared the door, I saw him start as hit by a thought forgotten, and—"The chamber on the right," he murmured. "How came I to forget? But he will never find the panel, even though he were a Jesuit." And so, with yet another warning that I should watch well and not sleep, he went out into the gallery. And I sat by the fire, wondering what those strange words should mean. Open indeed I did keep my eyes, but I believe my mind was not very far from dreams at the moment when a thing happened so like to a trick of sleeping fancy that it awoke me quite. I thought that I saw, in that dim light (for one great candlestick was above with His Highness of Orange, the other below in the hand of Captain Royston), a great piece of the stone wall that made the far side of the wide and lofty hearth slowly to draw back and recede from my eyes, as a door that is opened stealthily from behind. I sat erect and rubbed my eyes, and still did it draw away from me, and made a noise of rusted grinding as it went. And a nameless horror crept over my body till it reached and seemed to stiffen the roots of my hair. I would have cried aloud as I sat and expected something to come whence the door of stone had gone; but before I could find voice there came from the gap in the wall the darkly clad figure of a man, who stepped from the hearth, and stood looking down upon me. His face I could not clearly perceive, for the fire was behind him, but the sound of his voice I thought I had once already heard.
"Hush!" he said gently, thinking me, I suppose, as indeed I was, at the point of calling aloud on the guard. "I am unarmed, and would not hurt you if I could. What is your name?" And his voice, for all that it was young and sweet, sounded like my father's, for which there was reason enough, as I was soon to know.
"My name is Drayton," I answered simply.
"And the other?" he asked.
"Phil—Philip," I answered; and then I leapt to my feet as one waking from a dream, saying, as I did so, "though, sooth, I know not why I tell you." With my moving he so changed his position that the glow of the fire fell upon his face, and I knew him for the priest that had been taken in the orchard.
"Nor I," he said sternly, "for it is false. I am Philip Drayton."
"What, what!" I cried, in much amazement. "And is Sir Michael your father?"
"Sir Michael is my father," he replied.
"And mine also," said I, very joyfully, with yet no thought of the terrible meaning of his presence. "I took but little from my name. Lay the falsehood on my clothes. Brother Philip, I am Philippa."
He seemed less pleased with the encounter than dismayed by my attire.
"My sister!" he said; "my sister in this guise!"
"Nay, trust me," I said merrily, "none knows me for a maid."
And then he seemed to remember something, and, laying both hands on my shoulders, he held me off from him so that the light of the fire fell upon my face.
"My little sister!" said he. "I saw you, then, in the orchard. And was it you that saved the life of the Stadtholder of Holland?"
"So they say," I replied, doubtfully, wondering at the joy I saw upon his countenance.
"I am glad of it," he said, "right glad of it, indeed." And with that he heaved a great sigh of relief.
"Glad!" I cried. "Glad, you say! How can that be, when you yourself were one of those that would have slain him?"
"With them indeed I was," he said; "but I had no part in the planning that foul plot, and took none in its attempted execution. Had I even known the wickedness that was toward, I would not have obeyed what I deemed of all earthly commands the most terrible. By the happiest stroke of chance they did move my lodging to the chamber where is the sliding panel that gives upon the stair by which I have now reached you. Old Mr. Nathaniel Royston did show it me when I was but a little lad and you unborn. But he brought me no further than this chamber. I do remember," my brother continued, with a note in his voice that seemed to mark the man's sadness to recall a merry childhood, "I do remember that he said, with his kindly chuckle, he must not show the rest of the secret to one that like enough would some day prove a Jesuit in disguise. Though he spoke in jest, he was a good prophet. And now, child," he said, with rapid change to a manner more urgent, "you must show me what he would not."
"If you mean the secret way from the house," said I, "I do not know it; nor I would not show it if I did. I am here on guard duty till Captain Royston return."
"Sister," said Philip, speaking with voice and words so solemn that heart and ear were enchained till he came to an end,—"Sister, King James and his cause are dear to me. Holy Mother Church and her cause are yet more dear. But dearest of all (God forgive me!), dearest of all to me now, little sister Phil, is our dear father's honor and the honor of his house. It is no shame to him or to the Drayton name that I should work or fight for King James; none if I should spend my life to bring the dear land back to the true faith. But what one of us will hold up his head again if the name must be made foul, and stink in the nostrils of men, for a base plot of treachery and assassination? Therefore, child of my father, for the name's sake, let me go."
With that he made to pass me and reach the door into the gallery, but I stepped between and took him by the arms.
"Do not move," I said; "not one step, lest I call on the guard." And he stood like a statue of stone, while for a few moments, stretched by the gravity and tension of my thought into the seeming of hours, I was silent, and then: "Philip," I said, "if you are innocent of this wicked thing, why are you in England?" And in a few words he told me of the mission on which he was come. Then said I: "Will you now give it up—this mission—and return at once into France, if I let you go?" And, seeing that he shook his head, "Come," I said; "be quick. It is that or naught. Swear it, and you may go for me. The Captain will be upon us soon, and then it will be too late."
"Yes," he answered.
"It is an oath—a Drayton's oath?" I asked. "It is," said Philip.
"Then go, in God's name!" I cried. "Though, faith, I know not the secret passage, and I do not see how otherwise you should pass all the guards."
"I can but try," he answered; and again would have moved to the door, but in that moment I heard a footfall; and, being more sure from whom it came than whence, I bade Philip keep still, and ran as light as my heavy boots would allow to the door, drew it a little back, and peered into the passage. Mightily eased in mind by what I saw, which was little enough, being but the back of the sentry disappearing round the corner of the gallery, I softly pushed-to the door, whispering ere I turned: "Quick! quick! Go now. 'T is your one chance. Thank God it was not Captain Royston; and the sentry is for the moment out of hearing."
And uttering the last words I turned to find myself face to face with the man for whose absence I had just given thanks to God. He was looking at me over the table where he had just set down his candlestick beside the meat and wine he had fetched for me. And of all the terrible things of that night, none, I think, did send to my heart a pang so sharp as the sight of that flagon of wine and wooden platter of cold venison; verily, for a moment I felt, with his reproachful eye upon me, that I was indeed that base thing he could not choose but think me.
"Thank Him not too soon, thou devil's whelp!" he said.
Philip yet stood where I had left him. To him I went quickly and whispered: "Go, while you may. I will engage him. He will not hurt me, for, if needs must, I will tell him who I am." Then, going over to Captain Royston with strut and swagger much belying the trembling that was within me: "Sir," I said, laying hand to my sword, "you give me an ill name."
"Less ill than your deeds," he answered with great bitterness. "I went but to get you meat and drink, and, returning, thought of that secret way from the room above. I stepped over the sleeping sentry, unbolted the door and closed it softly behind me, only to find the bird flown. As I drew back the panel he had closed behind him and followed him down the stair, greatly fearing some mischance from his evasion, naught I imagined was so bad as the finding you together planning his escape. Was it for this I did cherish you, little viper?"
To all which, though his words did cut me to the heart, I but replied that I was no reptile, and that therefore he lied, hoping by such naughty words to provoke him to quarrel with me, while Philip was about escaping, purposing thereafter to tell him the truth, when that was accomplished for which I would not have him even in his own conscience held responsible. Me they could not very heavily punish, since from His Highness of Orange I took no pay, nor had sworn to him any oath. Nor was I altogether hopeless of persuading Ned to conceal his knowledge of what it would then be too late to prevent.
"Let me pass, boy," he cried, "or I will whip you soundly with my belt." But when he would have put me aside, as I stood between them, I held him fast to the utmost of my strength. Finding I would still cling to him, he put his hand to the buckle of his belt.
"Whip, then," I said, "for the man shall go free." And, though my flesh did most prophetically shudder beneath the imminent stripes, I thought that here was no bad way of gaining time for Philip, when I should come to weep, in Philippa's proper person, for the pain of that whipping. But he flung me off, muttering a plague on the Drayton countenance of me, and that the priest would make off if he did not seize him.
"He shall!" I cried, half drawing my sword. "What! Art afraid to draw on a lesser than thy hulking self?"
"False and ingrate though you are, I would not hurt you," he said; "and I will not call upon the guard; but I will have him again secure in his chamber, and so shield you, little devil, from all punishment but what I will myself administer when all is done."
And as he advanced upon me and would have seized me, I lifted my cloak that was on the back of the settle and flung it over his head, where, for a brief space, despite his struggles, I held it. And while his eyes were thus blinded for a moment, Philip, swift and silent, slipped past us and through the door of the stair to the Prince's chamber. Royston, however, soon flung me off and tore the cloak from his head. And I saw at length great anger in his face, and with a last essay at strategy did leap to the door that gives upon the gallery, as if indeed I defended Philip's retreat; and there, with drawn sword and taunting words, I defied him. And then he came, and our swords met. And finding, as well I had known I should find, that he was too strong for me, I was, after a pass or two, at the point of calling him by the old name and of telling mine, when he did something that had formed no part of the teaching he had given me with the foils, so that I found myself speedily at his mercy, and felt the sharp, cold prick of steel low down upon my neck. And then I thought my end was indeed come, and I tried to murmur: "Spare me, dear Ned," but could not.
Now all these things—from Ned's return to my foolish fainting at the first blood—that have in the telling taken so long did happen so quickly that perhaps seconds rather than minutes were their proper measure. And my enemy has since told me that what I have called my swooning seemed but the closing for a few moments of my eyes. But, however that may be, I do think it endured sufficiently for his great concern. For when I opened them I knew not at all where I should be until the white solicitude of his face bending close over brought me very soon to the consciousness of the strong and tender arms that held me. So, seeing I was come to myself, he led me towards the hearth, and set me in a chair. And then I began to feel a little smarting and a warmth of trickling blood. Taking my handkerchief, I thrust it beneath waistcoat and shirt, and pressed it upon the spot that did so smart, whence withdrawing it and seeing the blood upon it, I shuddered.
"Nay, nay," said Ned, while the lines of anxiety upon his face belied the little laugh he forced from his lips, "fret not for a little blood. I thrust not hard. Wherefore did you anger me, monkey? Come," he added, laying his hand to the breast of my shirt and fingering the buttons with that awkwardness that a man has ever for garments that are not his, "I will heal it."
"No," I said, pulling away his hands, "you must not."
"But I would see the hurt, lad," he said. "I know not why, but I am sorry I have hurt you. God knows, I have killed men and thought little of it, but this scratch to a child does mightily vex me." And again he would have loosed the buttons. "Come, open your shirt," he said.
"I say I will not. I am not the lad you think me, sir."
But even then he did not understand, but took my two hands in one of his, so great and strong that mine might scarce writhe themselves about within it, while he set himself to do what I would not for all his asking. And so it was that I came to the last line of my defences. "Let be, dear Ned," I murmured, in that tone of pleading I had ever in the old days used when his will did offer to prove the stronger. "Let be, dear; 't is—'t is thy little maid, Phil," I said, and dropped my eyes before him, and let my prisoned hands lie still.
He stared upon me in an astonishment of wonder that discovered the white all round his eyes, and at first he would not believe.
"Nay, nay," he said, "it is not so!" And I lifted my eyes and so looked into his that he could no longer doubt.
"Verily, Ned, it is I. And I had told the sooner," I said, "but that—but that—" and, my words then failing, I again dropped my gaze before his.
"Phil!" he cried. "Is it even my little friend Phil? 'But,' you say—but what?"
"But that I would not tell you—and could not—was ashamed, Ned, and did mightily desire to know had you forgot me." And here, laying my folded handkerchief to my wound inside my shirt, and fastening all close above it, I did see his face so lose color at thought of the hurt he had given me, that I laid my hand upon his, saying: "Be not vexed, sweet Ned, 't is but a scratch."
"I am right glad of it, Phil," he answered, "if it be so. But indeed you should not run about in this guise. How came you to be so dressed?"
"That story must wait," I replied merrily. "But 't is the first time, Ned, and shall be the last."
"And if you must needs be a man," he went on, "but for a day, you should cleave like a man to one side, and not be so greedy of strife as to draw sword on both. There will be trouble over this priest when he is taken, as he will be, by the guard without."
"Listen, Ned," said I. "That priest is my brother."
"What!" he cried. "Surely it is not Philip!"
"Philip it is," said I, "and no other, though I did not know him until he told me even now in this room. And also he did tell me, Ned, that he had no part in the assault upon His Highness."
"So much," said Ned, "is true. I marked him."
"He told me, moreover," I continued, "that the business that brought him to England was fair and honest, though it was for King James. There was another priest did force or trick him into companying with the murderers. Ned, dear Ned, I did mean letting him go for our father's sake and our name." And here I found no power, and perhaps little will, to restrain the catch of a sob in my throat. "Men must not say 'spy,' 'plotmonger,' 'assassin,' when they say Drayton, Ned. You do forgive me?"