CHAPTER XI.
THE RASCAL EMPLOYS HIS WITS.
"What shall I do? I can borrow no more of my credit: there's not any of my acquaintance, man or boy, but I have borrowed more or less of. I would I knew where to take a good purse."--_The London Prodigal._
Ravenshaw had not the slightest thought that he was being followed,or had been followed during the day. He had recognised Gregory asJerningham's attendant, but he supposed Jerningham had sent the man,for want of a better instrument, to attempt what Ravenshaw himself hadwithdrawn from, or perchance to carry a letter; he thus accounted forthe serving-man's unexpected presence in the garden.
He knew that the knave would not succeed, even if he tried it, incommunicating with Mistress Millicent that night. But doubtlessfurther efforts would be made soon, and, while he felt she was proofagainst any manifest overtures against her honour, he feared somecunning proposal which might have a false appearance of honesty, andto which, in her desperate desire to escape from Sir Peregrine, shemight therefore give ear. Here was additional reason why he must workswiftly to place her out of all danger, either on Jerningham's sideor on Sir Peregrine's, if sufficient reason did not already existin the fact that he had to leave London at noon the next day. Thearrangement for his serving Master Jerningham in the country could notbe at all affected by his passage with Jerningham's man in the garden.Gregory's action there must have been on the inspiration of the moment,and formed no cause of quarrel with Jerningham; while Jerningham, onlearning that Ravenshaw had again visited the goldsmith's daughter,would be the more desirous to get him out of London.
Walking out Cheapside, the captain gave final order to the plans he hadbeen evolving all the afternoon.
He first made search and question in sundry ale-houses and such, aboutPye Corner, for Cutting Tom; whom at last he found in a room filledwith tobacco smoke, where a number of suburb rascals and sightseeingrustics were at the moment watching a fantastic fellow dance to acomrade's pipe and tabour. From this innocent amusement, Cutting Tomwas easily drawn into the privacy of a little garden attached to theplace.
"What cheer now?" queried Tom. "Fighting to be done? or coney-catching?You know I'm your man through sea-water and hell-fire, for a brace ofangels or so."
"I have a small matter afoot to-morrow night," replied Ravenshaw,gruffly, "wherein I can employ a man like you, and three or four underhim."
"Troth!" said Tom, becoming consequential, "I have some affairs of myown to-morrow night, and that's the hell of it."
"Then good night to you!"
"Oh, stay, captain!--I had some slight business; but to serve you,captain--"
"You bottle-ale rogue, think not to cozen me into a higher price.Affairs of your own!--no more of that. Shall we deal, or no?"
"Oh, I am all yours, captain. For you, I would put myself out any day.Say on."
"Then you are first to raise four stout fellows whom you can trust asyou do your false dice or your right hand."
"They are near. Trust me for 'em."
"At sunset to-morrow, you and your men, all well armed, and furnishedwith lights, be in waiting before the White Horse tavern in FridayStreet,--that is to say, loitering in a manner not to make peopleinquisitive. There will come to you anon a young gentleman--with ayoung woman. The gentleman is one you have seen. He was with me thenight you turned tail to those counterfeit roaring boys."
"I have seen him with you since,--a lean, clerkly man."
"Ay; and he and the maid will pass the White Horse tavern, as soonafter sunset as may be. Now, be sure you mistake not the man,--it maybe nightfall ere they come."
"Never fear. I am a man of darkness. Mine eyes are an old tom-cat's."
"Without stopping them, you and your men will close around the coupleas a guard, and accompany where the gentleman shall direct. If anypursue, or try to molest them, you are to defend, and help theirflight, at all risks. But they are not like to be sought for till theyare out of London. They will take to the water at Queenhithe, andyou five with them, all in the same boat. And so down the river withthe tide, how many miles I know not exactly, till you land, upon theKentish side. The gentleman will give orders where."
"This should be worth ten pound, at the least, so far," said CuttingTom, musingly, as if to himself.
"You will not get ten pounds at the most, and yet you will go farther,"replied Ravenshaw, curtly. "After you are put ashore, will come yourchief service, which is to protect my gentleman and maid to theirdestination inland. How far this journey will be, I am not sure, but'twill be some walking, through woods and by lonely ways, and by night;and you are to guard them against the dangers and fears of the way,that is all. When they come to the place they are bound for, they willdismiss you, and you may fare home to London as you choose."
"Why, beshrew my body! 'tis an all-night business, then."
"It should be over something after midnight, if begun early and wellsped; I count not the time of your return to London. And look you: I amnot to be named in the affair, that is of the first import. If the ladyknew--well, in short, I am not to be named. The lady is not to know ofmy hand in it; if she did all would go wrong, and I should make yousorry."
"I will remember. This should be worth, now, fifteen pound, at thesmallest. I shall have to pay the men--"
"You can pay them a pound apiece, and have two pounds for yourself.That will be six pounds."
"Oh, jest not, I pray you! Ten pound and there's an end on't."
After some discussion, they met each other at eight pounds. Then aroseanother question.
"Since you are not to appear in the affair," said Cutting Tom, "and Iknow not the other gentleman save by sight, it behooves that you paybefore we set forth."
"Half ere you set forth," conceded the captain, knowing his man, "halfwhen the work is done."
"Then will the gentleman pay me the second half when we are at hisdestination?"
"No. He will have no money with him. I would not put you in temptationupon the journey, or afterward. Though I shall not appear in thematter, I shall pay." He thought for a moment. It was safest thatCutting Tom should know him alone as master, deal with him alone wheregold was to be handled, and yet that he should not pay the firstmoney till the last possible moment before leaving London. Finally hesaid: "For the first four pounds, thus: to-morrow, at fifteen minutesbefore noon, no later, be at the hither end of London Bridge; I willmeet you there and pay. For the other four pounds, thus: when thejourney is finished, pass the rest of the night at the gentleman'sdestination,--he shall find you room in some stable-loft, or such,--andthere I will come the next day with the gold, for I shall be in thatneighbourhood."
Cutting Tom grumbled a little; but Ravenshaw, after applying to him afew terms designed to make him think no better of himself, threatenedto employ another man, and so brought him to agreement. The detailshaving been repeated for the sake of accuracy, the captain left theplace, and Tom returned to his amusements.
Ravenshaw's concern now was to raise the promised eight pounds andsuch other money as would be required in the exploit. He must needsbestir himself. At this late hour there was not time for any elaborateenterprise. Some bold, shrewd stroke must serve him. But might heexpect to perform such a wonder now, when he had not been able toperform one, even at the pressure of dire want, during the past weeks?Yes; for he had the stimulus of a new motive; and the very shortness ofthe time at his disposal would put an edge to his wit, and sharpen hissight to opportunities to which he would commonly be blind.
The manifest thing to do first was to stake his few shillings at cardsor dice. He entered the nearest dice-house; but here he was well knownand no player would engage with him. He went into another place, wheremost of the gamesters were men from the country, whom a few hardenedrooks of the town were fleecing. Here the captain got to work withthe bones; but, as the dice were true, he soon, to his consternation,lost his last sixpence. In a desperate desire of getting some silverback in order to try for better luck elsewhere, he raised
a howl ofhaving been cheated with loaded dice, and proceeded to roar terror intohis opponent. But the latter, frightened out of his wits, took bodilyflight, and, though Ravenshaw pursued him out of the house, succeededin losing himself in the darkness of Snow Hill.
What was the captain now to do? For a moment he thought of taking hisstand on Holborn bridge, and crying "Deliver!" to the first belatedperson who might be supposed to carry a fat purse. But there would bedanger in that course, danger to his purpose, and he dared not riskthat purpose as he would risk his own neck. He bethought himself withbitterness that there was not a human being in London, or in the world,who would lend him half the needed sum, to save his soul. Nerved by thereflection, he strode forward and swaggered into a tavern on the northside of Holborn, the door of which had just opened to let out threehilarious inns-of-court men who came forth singing:
"For three merry men, and three merry men, And three merry men we be."
He looked in at each open chamber door, and listened at each closedone. Neither eating, nor drinking, nor smoking, nor the music ofbegging fiddlers, had any attraction for him this time. But at last hecame to a large upper room wherein money was passing, for he could hearthe rattle of dice and the soft chink of gold amidst the exclamationsof men, the voices of women, and the scraping of a couple of violins.Without knocking, he boldly flung open the door, and entered.
Candles were plentiful in the room, which was hung with painted cloth.On a long table were the remains of a supper; at one end of this tablethe cloth had been turned back, and three gentlemen were throwingdice upon the bare oak. At the other part of the table sat two women,with painted cheeks and gorgeous gowns, and a fourth gentleman. Uponthe window-seat were two vagabond-looking fellows a-fiddling. Thewomen were dividing their attention between the gamesters and a leangreyhound, for which they would toss occasionally a bit of food intothe air. Before each of the women there was a little pile of gold, towhich her particular gamester would add or resort, as he won or lost.All this the captain took in with sharp eyes ere any one did him thehonour to challenge his entrance with a look.
"Oh, your pardon!" quoth he, when at last these people showed a kind ofcareless, insolent surprise at his presence. "I thought to find friendshere; I have mistaken the room." But instead of withdrawing he steppedforward, his glance playing between the dice and the gold.
"Oh, Jesu!" said one of the women, a great lazy blonde, with splendideyes, and a slow voice; "'tis that swaggering filthy rascal Ravenshaw,with his beard cut off."
"'Tis Samson shorn of his strength, then!" said the other woman, alittle, Spanish-looking, brown beauty, who spoke in quick, shrilltones. She was dressed in brown velvet and scarlet satin. One of herhands lay in the ardent clasp of a large gentleman, who, with his ownfree hand, held the dice-box. He was handsome and simple-looking, andhe now broke into loud laughter at her jest.
"'Twould have needed a handsomer Delilah than any here, to do theshearing," said the captain, rudely. Having been a hater of women, hehad been wont to treat this kind with caustic raillery.
The large gallant roared at this, and said, "Faith, ladies, you broughtthat on yourselves!" But one of the other two gamesters, a lean,fox-faced, eager-looking little man, he whose pile of winnings laybefore the indolent blonde, frowned with resentment on her behalf.First his frown was directed at Ravenshaw; but, deeming it prudent toaim it elsewhere, he turned it upon the large gentleman, saying:
"Your mirth is easily stirred, Master Burney."
The brunette shot a look of anger at the speaker for the offensivetone he used toward her gallant. The blonde noticed this, and took thelittle gentleman's hand in hers, to show where her allegiance lay; andthen she drawled out, with a motion which might have come to a shrug ofhorror had she not been too lazy to finish it:
"Oh, God! I pity Delilah, the poor woman, if her Samson was such abottle-ale rogue as this beast!"
Master Burney laughed at this sally, and somewhat reinstated himself inthe favour of the little gallant.
Ravenshaw bowed low. "I salute your most keen, subtle, elegant, bitingwit, Lady Greensleeves! It cuts; oh, it cuts!"
"'Lady Greensleeves!' Ho, ho, ho!" bawled Master Burney, and forthwithessayed to sing, with a tunelessness the worse for the opposition ofthe fiddlers, some lines of the familiar ballad:
"Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight; Greensleeves was my heart of gold, And who but Lady Greensleeves?"
The point of the nickname lay in the fact that the pink silk gown whichencased the large, shapely figure of the lady--a gown so cut as toreveal an ample surface of bust--was fitted with sleeves of light green.
"Christ! what caterwauling!" quoth Lady Greensleeves, with a smile, notill-naturedly.
"'Tis not as bad as his laughing, at worst," said her gallant.
"What is amiss with his laughing?" spoke up the brunette, pressingMaster Burney's hand the more tightly.
"Oh," replied the little gallant, "I find no fault that he laughs; but'tis the manner of his laugh. If he but laughed like a Christian, Ishould not mind. But he laughs like a--like a--"
"Like a what?" persisted the brunette, defiantly.
"Like a pig," said Lady Greensleeves, placidly.
The brunette's eyes flashed at the fair woman, but the latter'samiable, half-smiling look disarmed wrath, or seemed to put it inthe wrong, and so for a moment nobody spoke. Meanwhile Ravenshaw hadmade these swift deductions: Here was one gentleman prone to laugh atanything; there was another gentleman quick to take offence at thatlaughter if it was directed against his mistress; neither gentleman wasafraid of the other, but both were afraid of Ravenshaw, whose name gavehim a fine isolation, making it as hard for him to find adversaries infight as in gaming; and each gentleman was adored by his lady. In aflash, the captain saw what might be made out of the situation.
"How is it you knew who I was, Lady Greensleeves?" he asked. "I think,if I had ever met you, I should have remembered you."
"Oh, lord! I would not for a thousand pound rub against all the scurvystuff that's in your memory! I was in Paris Garden the day you killedthe bear that got loose among the people, and that is how I learnedwho you were. And oft since then I have seen you hanging about taverndoors, as I have gone about the town in my coach. I think I have seenyou at prison windows, hanging down a box for pennies, but I'm notsure."
This time Master Burney's laugh was upon the captain, and all joined init.
"No doubt," said Ravenshaw; "and I think you once put a penny in thebox, but when I drew it up I found it was a bad one."
"Troth, then," she said, "here's a good coin to make up for it." Andshe took up the smallest piece of gold from the pile in front of her,and threw it toward him. "Take it, and buy stale prunes to keep up yourstale valour!"
"Nay," he retorted, throwing it back; "keep it, and buy stale paint tokeep up your stale beauty!"
Master Burney's shout of mirth was cut short by a curse, and a slap inthe face, both from Lady Greensleeves's lover, who had leaped to hisfeet and was the picture of fury. The struck man, with a loud roar ofanger, sprang up instantly; and both had their rapiers in hand in amoment.
The two other gentlemen and the brunette rushed in to keep the angrygallants asunder; Lady Greensleeves sat like one helpless, and began toscream like a frightened child; the fiddlers broke off their tune ofa sudden; the hound fled to the empty fireplace, and barked. The twoopponents struggled fiercely to shake off the would-be peacemakers, andwere for killing each other straightway.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," shouted Ravenshaw above the tumult; "not beforeladies! not indoors! There be the fields behind the tavern, and a goodmoonlight."
With this, he caught the brunette by the wrists, and drew her from thefray. Holding her with his left arm, he pushed Master Burney's enemyviolently toward the door.
"To the fields, then!" cried the little gentleman. "To the fields an hedare follow!"
Master Burney's reply was drowned by the cries of the l
adies, as hedashed after the other. The two neutral gentlemen, yielding to thetrend of the incident, accompanied the angry ones forth. The captain,instead of following, slammed the door after them, released thebrunette, and stood with his back to the closed door to stop any oneelse from leaving the room. The brunette, shrieking threats, triedagain and again to pass him, but he pushed her back each time until shesank exhausted on a chair by the table; and all the while poor LadyGreensleeves wailed as if her heart would break.
"'Tis not for ladies to interfere in these matters," said Ravenshaw,when he could make himself heard. "A blow has been struck, and men ofhonour have but one course. Their friends will see all fitly done.Despair not, mistress: your gallant has great vantage in size andstrength."
"Then you think he will win?" cried the brunette. "Heaven be praised!"
"Oh, God! oh, God!" moaned Lady Greensleeves. "Then my dear servant isa dead man. Woe's me! woe's me! I'll turn nun; nay, I'll take poison,that I will!"
"Why, madam," said Ravenshaw, "your gentleman will acquit himself well,be sure of it. He is so quick; and the other's bulk is in your man'sfavour."
It was now the brown beauty's turn to be dismayed.
"Oh, thank heaven!" cried Lady Greensleeves, smiling gratefully throughher tears. "Yes, indeed, he is quick; he will give that big Burney adozen thrusts ere the great fellow can move."
At this the dark woman started up for another struggle with Ravenshaw,but he stayed her with the words:
"Nay, the small gentleman is too light to thrust hard. Think of MasterBurney's weight; when he does touch, 'twill go home, no doubt of that."
All this time the captain was on tenter-hooks lest the fight had reallybegun; a moment's loss of time would be fatal to his purpose; he mustbring matters to a point.
"In very truth," he said, "as a man acquainted with these things, if Iwere to wager which of the two is like to be killed--"
"Which?" cried the women together, as he paused.
"Both!"
Even Greensleeves sprang up this time, and Ravenshaw found himselfconfronted by two desperate, sobbing creatures.
"Back, ladies!" he shouted, quickly. "I will stop their fighting!"
They stood still, regarding him with wondering inquiry.
"If you will stay in this room," he continued.
"We will not stir a step," cried Lady Greensleeves. "Make haste, forGod's sake!"
"And if you will give me a handful of those yellow boys yonder," headded.
With a cry of joy, Greensleeves swept up a handful of the two littlepiles of gold, and held it out to him.
"Stay," said the brown lady, closing her palm over the gold in theother's hand. "He shall have it--when he brings the two gentlemen backto us, friends and unscathed."
"That's fair," said Ravenshaw; "so that you give it to me privately,ere they take note."
"Yes, yes!" panted the brunette; and "God's name, haste!" criedGreensleeves; and the captain, without another word, dashed out of theroom, and down the stairs.
He ran through the garden behind the tavern, and so by a gate, whichthe gentlemen had left open, to the fields, which stretched northwardto Clerkenwell and Islington. He descried the four gallants near athand, where they had chosen a clean, level piece of turf. Fortunately,the many noises in the tavern, noises of music, laughter, gaming, andsinging, had kept attention from being drawn to the tumult of thisaffair, and so no one had followed the four gentlemen out. The twowho had tried to make peace had now fallen naturally into the placeof seconds, and were finishing the preliminaries of the fight, whilethe adversaries stood with their doublets off, waiting for the time tobegin. Just as their weapons met, with a musical ring of steel, thecaptain dashed in and struck up the rapiers with his own.
"Gentlemen, I am defrauded here," he said, as the combatants stood backin surprise. "I was the first to offend, in the house yonder, and thefirst to be offended. 'Tis my right to fight one of you first--I carenot which--and, by this hand, you shall not proceed till my quarrel issettled!"
"Oh, pish, man!" said the little gallant; "we have no quarrel with you.Our fight is begun; I pray, stand aside, and let us have it out."
"Upon one condition, then," said Ravenshaw.
The two gallants raised their points, to rush at each other.
"That the survivor shall fight me afterward," he finished.
The two gallants lowered their points, and hesitated.
"Troth, I have taken no offence of you, sir," said Master Burney; "andgiven none, I think."
"But your ladies yonder gave me offence; and to whom shall I look forreparation, if not to you two?"
"Faith," said the small gallant, "a man who undertook to givereparation for every foolish word a woman spoke, would have no time toeat, drink, or sleep."
"I see how it is," said Ravenshaw, with a shrug. "I may not hope forsatisfaction unless I force you to self-defence; and that would bemurder. But, by the foot of a soldier, if I must go without reparation,I'll not be the only one! If I forego, so must you both. How like youthat, Master Burney?"
"How can I? He struck me a blow."
"Well, no doubt, if I pray him, he will withdraw the blow. Will younot, sir?"
"I do not like to," answered the little man; "but if he will withdrawhis laughter--"
"Why, forsooth, a man of known courage may withdraw anything, and noharm to his reputation," said the captain. "To prove it I will withdrawall offence I have given, and will take it that you two, on behalf ofthe ladies, withdraw all offence they have done me. Saviolo himself, Iswear, could not adjust a quarrel more honourably. What say you, shallwe go back now in peace and friendship to bring joy to the hearts ofthe ladies who are dying of fear? Come, gentlemen, my sword is thefirst to be put up, look you."
Somewhat sheepishly, the adversaries followed his example, to theamusement of the seconds, who would doubtless have acted with similarprudence had they been exposed to the risk of having to fight CaptainRavenshaw. The captain then took Master Burney and the little gentlemaneach by an arm, and started for the tavern, followed by the other two.The song of the three inns-of-court men returned to his mind, and heand the two fighters marched back to the ladies, singing at the top oftheir voices:
"For three merry men, and three merry men, And three merry men we be."
Lady Greensleeves folded the little gentleman in her arms till hegrimaced with discomfort; the brown beauty leaped up and clung aroundMaster Burney's neck; but, as she did so, she dangled behind his back apurse, in the face of Captain Ravenshaw, to whose hand she relinquishedit a moment later. The captain stepped out into the passage, made surethat the purse really contained a handful of gold, and then fled downthe stairs ere any but the brunette knew he was gone.
The fiddlers, who had waited through all the suspense of the women,now struck up a merry love tune, and Master Burney bawled for a drawerto bring some more wine, declaring he must drink the health of CaptainRavenshaw; but the captain was hastening to his lodging in Smithfield,grinning to himself, and fingering the heavy round pieces in the purse.
"ONE HAND GESTICULATING, WHILE THE OTHER HELD HISNEW-WRITTEN MANUSCRIPT."]