CHAPTER V.
THE PLAYER PROVES HIMSELF A GENTLEMAN.
"Warrants and pursuivants! Away! warrants and pursuivants!"--_The WiseWoman of Hogsdon._
Sir Valentine Fleetwood was a thin man, with regular features and sunkencheeks, his usually sallow face now flushed with fever. His full roundbeard was gray, but there were yet streaks of black in his flowing hair.
"Sir Valentine," Hal began, suppressing his excitement, "there isprivate news I must make known to you instantly." And he cast a look atthe doctor, who frowned, and at Anthony, who remained motionless nearthe door, with his lanthorn still in hand, as if expecting that heshould soon have to escort Hal out again.
"Sir Valentine is not in a condition to hear--" broke in the doctor, ina voice of no loudness, but of much latent authority.
"But this is of the gravest import--" interrupted Hal, and was himselfinterrupted by Sir Valentine, who had gathered breath for speech.
"Nay, Harry, it may wait. I am in no mind for business."
"But it requireth immediate action," said Hal, who would have told thenews itself, but that he desired first the absence of the doctor and thesteward.
"Then 'twill serve nothing to be told," said Sir Valentine, lapsing intohis former weakness, and with a slight shade of annoyance upon his face."As thou see'st, boy, I am in no state for action. A plague upon theleg, I can't stir it half an inch."
"But--" cried Harry.
The physician rose, and Anthony, with an outraged look, took adeprecatory step toward Harry.
"No more, young sir!" quoth the physician, imperatively. "SirValentine's life--"
"But that is what I have come to speak of," replied Hal, in somedudgeon. "Zounds, sir, do you know what you hinder? There are concernsyou wot not of!"
"Tut, Master Marryott," said Sir Valentine. "As for my life, 'tis bestin the doctor's hands; and for concerns, I have none now but myrecovery. Not for myself, the blessed Mary knoweth! But for others'sakes, in another land. Oh, to think I should be drawn into an unwillingquarrel, and get this plagued hurt! And mine opponent--hast heard yethow Mr. Hazlehurst fares, Anthony?"
"No, your honor," said the Puritan; but he let his glance fall to thefloor as he spoke, and seemed to suffer an inward groan as ofself-reproach. Sir Valentine could not see him for the bed-curtains.
"Tis a lesson to shun disputes, boy," said Sir Valentine, to Hal. "Herewere my old neighbor's son, young Mr. Hazlehurst, and myself, bareacquaintances, 'tis true, but wishing each other no harm. And two daysago, meeting where the roads crossed, and a foolish question of right ofway occurring, he must sputter out hot words at me, and I must chide himas becometh an elder man; and ere I think of consequences, his sword isout, and I have much to do to defend myself! And the end is, each iscarried off by servants, with blood flowing; my wound in the groin, hissomewhere in the breast. I would fain know how he lies toward recovery!You should have taken pains to inquire, Anthony."
"Sir Valentine," said the physician, "thou art talking too much. MasterMarryott, you see how things stand. If you bear Sir Valentinefriendship, you have no choice but to go away, sith you have paid yourrespects. He would have it that you be admitted. Pray, abuse not hiscourtesy."
"But, sir, that which I must tell him concerns--"
"I'll hear naught that concerns myself," said Sir Valentine, with thechildish stubbornness of illness. "Tell me of thine own self, Harry.'Tis years since I saw thee last, and in that time I've had no word ofthee. Didst go to London, and stay there? My letter, it seems, availedthee nothing. How livest thou? What is thy place in the world?"
Hal decided to throw the physician and Anthony off guard by coming athis news indirectly. So he answered Sir Valentine:
"I am a stage player."
Sir Valentine opened eyes and mouth in amazement; he gasped and stared.
"A stage player!" he echoed, horrified. "Thy father's son a stageplayer! A Marryott a stage player! Sir, sir, you have fallen low!Blessed Mary, what are the times? A gentleman turn stage player!"
Old Anthony had drawn back from Hal, vastly scandalized, his eyes raisedheavenward as if for divine protection from contamination; and thephysician gazed, in a kind of passionless curiosity.
"A stage player," said Hal, firmly, having taken his resolution, "mayprove himself still a gentleman. He may have a gentleman's sense of oldfriendship shown, and a gentleman's honesty to repay it, as I have whenI come to save thee from the privy council's men riding hither to arrestthee for high treason! And a gentleman's authority, as I have when I bidthis doctor and this Anthony to aid thy escape, and betray or hinder itnot, on pain of deeper wounds than thine!" And Hal, having drawn hissword, stood with his back to the doorway.
Sir Valentine himself was the first to speak; he did so with quietgravity:
"Art quite sure of this, Harry?"
"Quite, Sir Valentine. We stage players consort with possessors of statesecrets, now and then. The warrant for thy apprehension was signed thisday. A council's pursuivant was to leave London at three o'clock, withmen to assure thy seizure. I, bearing in mind my family's debt to thine,and mine own to thee, started at two, to give thee warning. More thanthat, I swear to save thee. This arrest, look you, means thy death; fromwhat I heard, I perceive thy doom is prearranged; thy trial is to be apretence."
"I can believe that!" said Sir Valentine, with a grim smile.
"'Tis not my fault that these two have been let into the secret," saidHal, indicating the physician and Anthony.
"And it shall not be to Sir Valentine's disadvantage, sir, speaking formyself," said the physician.
"His honor knows whether I may be trusted," said Anthony, swelling withhaughty consciousness of his fidelity, as if to outdo the physician,toward whom his looks were always oblique and of a covert antipathy.
"I know ye are my friends," said Sir Valentine. "I could have spoken foryou. But what is to be done? 'Tis true I cannot move. Think it no whimsyof the doctor's, Harry. Blessed Mary, send heaven to my help! Think not,Harry, 'tis for myself I moan. Thou knowest not how my matters standabroad. There are those awaiting me in France, dependent on me--"
"And to France we must send you safe, Sir Valentine!" said Harry. "Youcould not be supported on horseback, I suppose?"
The physician looked amazed at the very suggestion, and Sir Valentinesmiled gloomily and shook his head.
"Or in a coach, an one were to be had?" Hal went on.
"'Twould be the death of him in two miles," said the physician."Moreover, where is a coach to be got in time?"
"Is there no hiding-place near, to which you might be carried?" askedHal, of Sir Valentine, knowing how most Catholic houses were provided inthose days.
Sir Valentine exchanged looks with the physician and Anthony, thenglanced toward the wall of the chamber, and answered:
"There is a space 'twixt yon panelling and the outer woodwork of thehouse. It hath air through hidden openings to the cracked plasterwithout; and is close to the chimney, for warmth. In a hasty search itwould be passed over,--there is good proof of that. But this pursuivant,not finding me, would sound every foot of wall in the house. He would,eventually, detect the hollowness of the panelling there, and thelooseness of the boards that hide the entrance. Or, if he did not that,he and his men would rouse the county, and occupy the house inexpectation of my secret return; they would learn of my quarrel andwound, and would know I must be hid somewhere near. While they remainedin the house, searching the neighborhood with sheriff's and magistrate'smen, keeping watch on every one, how should I be supplied and cared forin that hole? It would soon become, not my hiding-place, but mygrave,--for which 'tis truly of the right dimensions!"
"But if, not finding you in the first search, they should suppose yougone elsewhere?" said Hal, for sheer need of offering some hope, howeverwild.
"Why, they would still make the house the centre of their search, as Isaid."
"But if they were made to believe you had fled afar?"
"They would soon
learn of my wound. It hath been bruited about theneighborhood. They would know it made far flight impossible."
"But can they learn how bad thy wound is? Might it not be a harmlessscratch?"
"It might, for all the neighborhood knoweth of it," put in Anthony; andthe physician nodded.
"Then, if they had reason to think you far fled?" pursued Hal.
"Why," replied Sir Valentine, "some of them would go to make far hunt;others would wait for my possible return, and to search the house forpapers. And the constables and officers of the shire would be put on thewatch for me."
"Need the search for papers lead to the discovery of yon hiding-place?"
"No. The searchers would find papers in my study to reward a search,though none to harm any but myself. The other gentlemen concerned arebeyond earthly harm."
"But," quoth Hal, the vaguest outlines of a plan beginning to take shapebefore him, "were the pursuivant, on arriving at your gate, to bechecked by certain news that you had fled in a particular direction,would he not hasten off forthwith on your track, with all his men? Wouldhe take time for present search or occupancy of your house, or demandupon constable's or sheriff's men? And if your track were kept ever inview before him, would he not continue upon it to the end? And supposesome of his men were left posted in thy house. These would be few,three or four at most, seeing that the main force were close upon thytrail. These three or four would not look for thy return; they wouldlook for thy taking by their comrades first. They would keep no vigil,and being without their leader,--who would head the pursuingparty,--they would rest content with small search for papers; they wouldrather be industrious in searching thy wine-cellar and pantry. Thus youcould be covertly attended from this chamber, by nurse or doctor,acquainted with the house. And when you were able to move, these men,being small in force, might be overpowered; or, being careless, theymight be eluded. And thus you might pass out of the house by night, andinto a coach got ready by the doctor, and so to the sea; and the men inthy house none the wiser, and those upon thy false track still chasingfarther away."
"Harry, Harry," said Sir Valentine, in a kindly but hopeless tone, "thouspeak'st dreams, boy!"
"Ne'ertheless," said Hal, "is't not as I say, an the false chase wereonce contrived?"
"Why," put in the physician, "that is true enough. Send me away thepursuivant and most of his men, and let those who stay think SirValentine thus pursued, and I'll warrant the looking to Sir Valentine'swants, and his removal in nine days or so. Nine days he will need, notan hour less; and yet another day, to make sure; that is ten. Butshould the pursuers on the false chase discover their mistake, andreturn ere ten days be gone, all were lost. E'en suppose they could betricked by some misguidance at the gate, which is not conceivable,they'd not go long on their vain hunt without tangible track to follow.Why, Master Marryott, they'd come speeding back in two hours!"
"But if a man rode ahead, and left tangible track, by being seen andnoted in the taverns and highways? He need but keep up the chase, by notbeing caught; the pursuivant may be trusted to pick up all traces leftof his travels. These messengers of the council are skilled in tracingmen, when there are men to leave traces."
"What wild prating is this?" cried Sir Valentine, somewhat impatiently."I know thou mean'st kindly, Harry, but thy plan is made of moonshine.Let a man, or a hundred men, ride forth and leave traces, what shallmake these officers think the man is I?"
"They shall see him leave thy gate in flight when they come up. And, asfor his leading them a chase, he will be on one of thy horses, an therebe time to make one ready, otherwise on mine,--in either case, on afresher horse than theirs. So he shall outride them at the first dash,and then, one way and another, lead them farther and farther, day afterday."
"But, man, man! Wilder and wilder!" exclaimed Sir Valentine, as if hethought himself trifled with. "Know you not their leader will be onethat is well acquainted with my face?"
"So much the better," cried Hal; "for then he will take oath it is youhe sees departing!"
"I he sees departing?" echoed Sir Valentine, and began to look at Halapprehensively, as if in suspicion of madness, a suspicion in which thephysician and Anthony seemed to join. "I departing, when I am in yonnarrow hole between timbers? I departing, when I am hurt beyond power ofmotion, as their leader will doubtless learn at the village ale-house,on inquiring if I be at home."
"Yes, sir," said Hal, "he shall think it is you, and the more so if hehave heard of your wound. For, in the lanthorn's light, as he comes inseeing distance, he shall perceive that you sit your horse as a lame mandoth. And that thy head is stiffly perched, thy shoulders drawn back, inthe manner peculiar to them. And that thy left elbow is thrust out as isits wont. And that thy hat, as usual, shades thy brow thus. But morethan all else, sir, that thy face is of little breadth, thy beard grayand round, as they have been these many years."
And Hal, having realized in attitude each previous point in hisdescription, took from his pocket the false beard that had lain theresince the first performance of "Hamlet," and tying it on his face, whichhe had thinned by drawing in his cheeks, stood transformed into theliving semblance of Sir Valentine Fleetwood.