CHAPTER XIII: THE BONFIRE
"From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, From Lynn to Milford Bay,That time of slumber was as Bright and busy as the day;For swift to east and swift to west The fiery herald sped,High on St. Michael's Mount it shone: It shone on Beachy Head."
MACAULAY.
Doctor Woodford and his niece had not long reached their own doorwhen the clatter of a horse's hoofs was heard, and Charles Archfieldwas seen, waving his hat and shouting 'Hurrah!' before he came nearenough to speak,
"Good news, I see!" said the Doctor.
"Good news indeed! Not guilty! Express rode from Westminster Hallwith the news at ten o'clock this morning. All acquitted.Expresses could hardly get away for the hurrahing of the people.Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" cried the young man, throwing up his hat,while Doctor Woodford, taking off his own, gave graver, deeperthanks that justice was yet in England, that these noble andhonoured confessors were safe, and that the King had been saved fromfurther injustice and violence to the Church.
"We are to have a bonfire on Portsdown hill," added Charles. "Theywill be all round the country, in the Island, and everywhere. Myfather is rid one way to spread the tidings, and give orders. I'mgoing on into Portsmouth, to see after tar barrels. You'll bethere, sir, and you, Anne?" There was a moment's hesitation afterthe day's encounters, but he added, "My mother is going, and mylittle Madam, and Lucy. They will call for you in the coach if youwill be at Ryder's cottage at nine o'clock. It will not be darkenough to light up till ten, so there will be time to get a noblepile ready. Come, Anne, 'tis Lucy's last chance of seeing you--sostrange as you have made yourself of late."
This plea decided Anne, who had been on the point of declaring thatshe should have an excellent view from the top of the keep.However, not only did she long to see Lucy again, but the enthusiasmwas contagious, and there was an attraction in the centre of popularrejoicing that drew both her and her uncle, nor could there be adoubt of her being sufficiently protected when among the Archfieldladies. So the arrangement was accepted, and then there was thecry--
"Hark! the Havant bells! Ay! and the Cosham! Portsmouth is pealingout. That's Alverstoke. They know it there. A salute! Another."
"Scarce loyal from the King's ships," said the Doctor, smiling.
"Nay, 'tis only loyalty to rejoice that the King can't make a foolof himself. So my father says," rejoined Charles.
And that seemed to be the mood of all England. When Anne and heruncle set forth in the summer sunset light the great hill above themwas dark with the multitudes thronging around the huge pyre risingin the midst. They rested for some minutes at the cottage indicatedbefore the arrival of Sir Philip, who rode up accompanying the coachin which his three ladies were seated, and which was quite largeenough to receive Dr. Woodford and Mistress Anne. Charles was inthe throng, in the midst of most of the younger gentlemen of theneighbourhood, and a good many of the naval and military officers,directing the arrangement of the pile.
What a scene it was, as seen even from the windows of the coachwhere the ladies remained, for the multitude of sailors, soldiers,town and village people, though all unanimous, were far tootumultuous for them to venture beyond their open door, especially aslittle Mrs. Archfield was very far from well, and nothing but hereagerness for amusement could have brought her hither, and of courseshe could not be left. Probably she knew as little of the realbearings of the case or the cause of rejoicing as did the boys whopervaded everything with their squibs, and were only restrained fromfiring them in the faces of the horses by wholesome fear of the bigwhips of the coachman and outriders who stood at the horses' heads.
It was hardly yet dark when the match was put to the shavings, andto the sound of the loud 'Hurrahs!' and cries of 'Long live theBishops!' 'Down with the Pope!' the flame kindled, crackled, andleapt up, while a responsive fire was seen on St. Catherine's Downin the Isle of Wight, and northward, eastward, westward, on everyavailable point, each new light greeted by fresh acclamations, as itshone out against the summer night sky, while the ships in theharbour showed their lights, reflected in the sea, as the sky grewdarker. Then came a procession of sailors and other rough folk,bearing between poles a chair with a stuffed figure with a kind oftiara, followed by others with scarlet hats and capes, and withreiterated shouts of 'Down with the Pope!' these were hurled intothe fire with deafening hurrahs, their more gorgeous trappings beingcleverly twitched off at the last moment, as part of the propertiesfor the 5th of November.
Little Mrs. Archfield clapped her hands and screamed with delight aseach fresh blaze shot up, and chattered with all her might,sometimes about some lace and perfumes which she wanted Anne toprocure for her in London at the sign of the Flower Pot, sometimesgrumbling at her husband having gone off to the midst of the partyclosest to the fire, "Just like Mr. Archfield, always leaving her toherself," but generally very well amused, especially when a group ofgentlemen, officers, and county neighbours gathered round the opendoor talking to the ladies within.
Peregrine was there with his hands in his pockets, and a queerironical smile writhing his features. He was asked if his fatherand brother were present.
"Not my father," he replied. "He has a logical mind. Martha is uphere with her guardian, and I am keeping out of her way, and mybrother is full in the thick of the fray. A bonfire is a bonfire tomost folks, were it to roast their grandsire!"
"Oh, fie, Mr. Oakshott, how you do talk!" laughed Mrs. Archfield.
"Nay, but you rejoice in the escape of the good Bishops," put inLucy.
"For what?" asked Peregrine. "For refusing to say live and letlive?"
"Not against letting _live_, but against saying sounconstitutionally, my young friend," said Dr. Woodford, "ortyrannising over our consciences."
Generally Peregrine was more respectful to Dr. Woodford than to anyone else; but there seemed to be a reckless bitterness about him onthat night, and he said, "I marvel with what face those same EightReverend Seigniors will preach against the French King."
"Sir," thrust in Sedley Archfield, "I am not to hear opprobriousepithets applied to the Bishops."
"What was the opprobrium?" lazily demanded Peregrine, and in spiteof his unpopularity, the laugh was with him. Sedley grew moreangry.
"You likened them to the French King--"
"The most splendid monarch in Europe," said Peregrine coolly.
"A Frenchman!" quoth one of the young squires with witheringcontempt.
"He has that ill fortune, sir," said Peregrine. "Mayhap he would besensible of the disadvantage, if he evened himself with some of myreasonable countrymen."
"Do you mean that for an insult, sir?" exclaimed Sedley Archfield,striding forward.
"As you please," said Peregrine. "To me it had the sound ofcompliment."
"Oh la! they'll fight," cried Mrs. Archfield. "Don't let them!Where's the Doctor? Where's Sir Philip?"
"Hush, my dear," said Lady Archfield; "these gentlemen would notfall out close to us."
Dr. Woodford was out of sight, having been drawn into controversywith a fellow-clergyman on the limits of toleration. Anne lookedanxiously for him, but with provoking coolness Peregrine presentlysaid, "There's no crowd near, and if you will step out, the fires onthe farther hills are to be seen well from the knoll hard by."
He spoke chiefly to Anne, but even if she had not a kind ofshrinking from trusting herself with him in this strange wild scene,she would have been prevented by Mrs. Archfield's eager cry--
"Oh, I'll come, let me come! I'm so weary of sitting here. Thankyou, Master Oakshott."
Lady Archfield's remonstrance was lost as Peregrine helped thelittle lady out, and there was nothing for it but to follow her, asclose as might be, as she hung on her cavalier's arm chattering, andnow and then giving little screams of delight or alarm. LadyArchfield and her daughter each was instantly squired, but MistressWoodford, a nobody, was left to keep as near them as she could, andgaze at the sparks of light of the beacons in th
e distance, thinkinghow changed the morrow would be to her.
Presently a figure approached, and Charles Archfield's voice said,"Is that you, Anne? Did I hear my wife's voice?"
"Yes, she is there."
"And with that imp of evil! I would his own folk had him!" mutteredCharles, dashing forward with "How now, madam? you were not to leavethe coach!"
She laughed exultingly. "Ha, sir! see what comes of leaving me tobetter cavaliers, while you run after your fire! I should have seennothing but for Master Oakshott."
"Come with me now," said Charles; "you ought not to be standing herein the dew."
"Ha, ha! what a jealous master," she said; but she put her arm intohis, saying with a courtesy, "Thank you, Master Oakshott, lords mustbe obeyed. I should have been still buried in the old coach but foryou."
Peregrine fell back to Anne. "That blaze is at St. Helen's," hebegan. "That--what! will you not wait a moment?"
"No, no! They will want to be going home."
"And have you forgotten that it is only just over Midsummer? Thisis the week of my third seventh--the moment for change. O Anne!make it a change for the better. Say the word, and the die will becast. All is ready! Come!"
He tried to take her hand, but the vehemence of his words, spokenunder his breath, terrified her, and with a hasty "No, no! you knownot what you talk of," she hastened after her friends, and was gladto find herself in the safe haven of the interior of the coach.
Ere long they drove down the hill, and at the place of parting wereset down, the last words in Anne's ears being Mrs. Archfield'sinjunctions not to forget the orange flower-water at the sign of theFlower Pot, drowning Lucy's tearful farewells.
As they walked away in the moonlight a figure was seen in thedistance.
"Is that Peregrine Oakshott?" asked the Doctor. "That young man isin a desperate mood, ready to put a quarrel on any one. I hope noharm will come of it."