CHAPTER XI.
RAGLAN CASTLE.
While he yet spoke, their horses, of their own accord, passed throughthe gate which Eccles had thrown wide to admit them, and carried theminto the Fountain court. Here, indeed, was a change of aspect! All thatDorothy had hitherto contemplated was the side of the fortress whichfaced the world--frowning and defiant, although here and there on thepoint of breaking into a half smile, for the grim, suspicious,altogether repellent look of the old feudal castle had been graduallyvanishing in the additions and alterations of more civilised times. Butnow they were in the heart of the building, and saw the face which thehouse of strength turned upon its own people. The spring sunshine filledhalf the court; over the rest lay the shadow of the huge keep, toweringmassive above the three-storied line of building which formed the sidenext it. Here was the true face of the Janus-building, full of eyes andmouths; for many bright windows looked down into the court, in some ofwhich shone the smiling faces of children and ladies peeping out to seethe visitors, whose arrival had been announced by the creaking chains ofthe portcullis; and by the doors issued and entered, here a lady in richattire, there a gentlemen half in armour, and here again a serving manor maid. Nearly in the centre of the quadrangle, just outside the shadowof the keep, stood the giant horse, rearing in white marble, almostdazzling in the sunshine, from whose nostrils spouted the jets of waterwhich gave its name to the court. Opposite the gate by which theyentered was the little chapel, with its triple lancet windows, overwhich lay the picture-gallery with its large oriel lights. Far abovetheir roof, ascended from behind that of the great hall, with its finelantern window seated on the ridge. From the other court beyond thehall, that upon which the main entrance opened, came the sounds of heavyfeet in intermittent but measured tread, the clanking of arms, and areturning voice of loud command: the troops of the garrison were beingexercised on the slabs of the pitched court.
From each of the many doors opening into the court they had entered, apath, paved with coloured tiles, led straight through the finest of turfto the marble fountain in the centre, into whose shadowed basin thefalling water seemed to carry captive as into a prison the sunlight itcaught above. Its music as it fell made a lovely but strange and sadcontrast with the martial sounds from beyond.
It was but a moment they had to note these things; eyes and earsgathered them all at once. Two of the warder's men already held theirhorses, while two other men, responsive to the warder's whistle, camerunning from the hall and helped them to dismount. Hardly had theyreached the ground ere a man-servant came, who led the way to the lefttowards a porch of carved stone on the same side of the court. The doorstood open, revealing a flight of stairs, rather steep, but wide andstately, going right up between two straight walls. At the top stoodlady Margaret's gentleman usher, Mr. Harcourt by name, who received themwith much courtesy, and conducting them to a small room on the left ofthe landing, went to announce their arrival to lady Margaret, to whoseprivate parlour this was the antechamber. Returning in a moment, he ledthem into her presence.
She received them with a frankness which almost belied the statelinessof her demeanour. Through the haze of that reserve which a consciousnessof dignity, whether true or false, so often generates, the genialcourtesy of her Irish nature, for she was an O'Brien, daughter of theearl of Thomond, shone clear, and justified her Celtic origin.
'Welcome, cousin!' she said, holding out her hand while yet distant halfthe length of the room, across which, upborne on slow firm foot, sheadvanced with even, stately motion, 'And you also, reverend sir,' shewent on, turning to Mr. Herbert. 'I am told we are indebted to you forthis welcome addition to our family--how welcome none can tell butladies shut up like ourselves.'
Dorothy was already almost at her ease, and the old clergyman soon foundlady Margaret so sensible and as well as courteous--prejudiced yetfurther in her favour, it must be confessed, by the pleasant pretenceshe made of claiming cousinship on the ground of the identity of herhusband's title with his surname--that, ere he left the castle, liberalas he had believed himself, he was nevertheless astonished to find howmuch of friendship had in that brief space been engendered in his bosomtowards a catholic lady whom he had never before seen.
Since the time of Elizabeth, when the fear and repugnance of the nationhad been so greatly and justly excited by the apparent probability of amarriage betwixt their queen and the detested Philip of Spain, aconsiderable alteration had been gradually wrought in the feelings of alarge portion of it in respect of their catholic countrymen--a factwhich gave strength to the position of the puritans in asserting theessential identity of episcopalian with catholic politics. Almost fortyyears had elapsed since the Gunpowder Plot; the queen was a catholic;the episcopalian party was itself at length endangered by the extensionand development of the very principles on which they had themselvesbroken away from the church of Rome; and the catholics were friendly tothe government of the king, under which their condition was one ofcomfort if not influence, while under that of the parliament they hadevery reason to anticipate a revival of persecution. Not a few of themdoubtless cherished the hope that this revelation of the true spirit ofdissent would result in driving the king and his party back into thebosom of the church.
The king, on the other hand, while only too glad to receive what aid hemight from the loyal families of the old religion, yet saw that muchcaution was necessary lest he should alienate the most earnest of hisprotestant friends by giving ground for the suspicion that he wasinclined to purchase their co-operation by a return to the creed of hisScottish grandmother, Mary Stuart, and his Englishgreat-great-grand-mother, Margaret Tudor.
On the part of the clergy there had been for some time a considerabletendency, chiefly from the influence of Laud, to cultivate the samespirit which actuated the larger portion of the catholic priesthood; andalthough this had never led to retrograde movement in regard to theirpolitics, the fact that both were accounted by a third party, and thatfar the most dangerous to either of the other two, as in spirit andobject one and the same, naturally tended to produce a more indulgentregard of each other than had hitherto prevailed. And hence, in part, itwas that it had become possible for episcopalian Dr. Bayly to be aninmate of Raglan Castle, and for good, protestant Matthew Herbert toseek refuge for his ward with good catholic lady Margaret.
Eager to return to the duties of his parish, through his illness so longneglected, Mr. Herbert declined her ladyship's invitation to dinner,which, she assured him, consulting a watch that she wore in a ring onher little finger, must be all but ready, seeing it was now a quarter toeleven, and took his leave, accompanied by Dorothy's servant to bringback the horse--if indeed they should be fortunate enough to escape therequisition of both horses by one party or the other. At present,however, the king's affairs continued rather on the ascendant, and thename of the marquis in that country was as yet a tower of strength.Dorothy's horse was included in the hospitality shown his mistress, andtaken to the stables--under the mid-day shadow of the Library Tower.
As soon as the parson was gone, lady Margaret touched a small silverbell which hung in a stand on the table beside her.
'Conduct mistress Dorothy Vaughan to her room, wait upon her there, andthen attend her hither,' she said to the maid who answered it. 'I wouldrequest a little not unneedful haste, cousin,' she went on, 'for my lordof Worcester is very precise in all matters of household order, andlikes ill to see any one enter the dining-room after he is seated. It ishis desire that you should dine at his table to-day. After this I mustplace you with the rest of my ladies, who dine in the housekeeper'sroom.'
'As you think proper, madam,' returned Dorothy, a little disappointed,but a little relieved also.
'The bell will ring presently,' said lady Margaret, 'and a quarter of anhour thereafter we shall all be seated.'
She was herself already dressed--in a pale-blue satin, with full skirtand close-fitting, long-peaked boddice, fastened in front by severaldouble clasps set with rubies; her shoulders we
re bare, and her sleeveslooped up with large round star-like studs, set with diamonds, so thather arms also were bare to the elbows. Round her neck was a short stringof large pearls.
'You take no long time to attire yourself, cousin,' said her ladyship,kindly, when Dorothy returned.
'Little time was needed, madam,' answered Dorothy; 'for me there is butone colour. I fear I shall show but a dull bird amidst the gay plumageof Raglan. But I could have better adorned myself had not I heard thebell ere I had begun, and feared to lose your ladyship's company, and invery deed make my first appearance before my lord as a transgressor ofthe laws of his household.'
'You did well, cousin Dorothy; for everything goes by law and orderhere. All is reason and rhyme too in this house. My lord's father,although one of the best and kindest of men, is, as I said, somewhatprecise, and will, as he says himself, be king in his ownkingdom--thinking doubtless of one who is not such. I should not talkthus with you, cousin, were you like some young ladies I know; but thereis that about you which pleases me greatly, and which I take to indicatediscretion. When first I came to the house, not having been accustomedto so severe a punctuality, I gave my lord no little annoyance; for,oftener than once or twice, I walked into his dining-room not only aftergrace had been said, but after the first course had been sent down tothe hall-tables. My lord took his revenge in calling me the wildIrishwoman.'
Here she laughed very sweetly.
'The only one,' she resumed, 'who does here as he will, is my husband.Even lord Charles, who is governor of the castle, must be in his placeto the moment; but for my husband--.'
The bell rang a second time. Lady Margaret rose, and taking Dorothy'sarm, led her from the room into a long dim-lighted corridor. Arrived atthe end of it, where a second passage met it at right angles, shestopped at a door facing them.
'I think we shall find my lord of Worcester here,' she said in awhisper, as she knocked and waited a response. 'He is not here,' shesaid. 'He expects me to call on him as I pass. We must make haste.'
The second passage, in which were several curves and sharp turns, ledthem to a large room, nearly square, in which were two tables coveredfor about thirty. By the door and along the sides of the room were agood many gentlemen, some of them very plainly dressed, and others ingayer attire, amongst whom Dorothy, as they passed through, recognisedher cousin Scudamore. Whether he saw and knew her she could not tell.Crossing a small antechamber they entered the drawing-room, where stoodand sat talking a number of ladies and gentlemen, to some of whom ladyMargaret spoke and presented her cousin, greeting others with a familiarnod or smile, and yet others with a stately courtesy. Then she said,
'Ladies, I will lead the way to the dining-room. My lord marquis wouldthe less willingly have us late that something detains himself.'
Those who dined in the marquis's room followed her. Scarcely had shereached the upper end of the table when the marquis entered, followed byall his gentlemen, some of whom withdrew, their service over for thetime, while others proceeded to wait upon him and his family, with anyof the nobility who happened to be his guests at the first table.
'I am the laggard to-day, my lady,' he said, cheerily, as he bore hisheavy person up the room towards her. 'Ah!' he went on, as lady Margaretstepped forward to meet him, leading Dorothy by the hand, 'who is thissober young damsel under my wild Irishwoman's wing? Our young cousinVaughan, doubtless, whose praises my worthy Dr. Bayly has been soundingin my ears?'
He held out his hand to Dorothy, and bade her welcome to Raglan.
The marquis was a man of noble countenance, of the type we are ready toimagine peculiar to the great men of the time of queen Elizabeth. Tothis his unwieldy person did not correspond, although his movements werestill far from being despoiled of that charm which naturally belonged toall that was his. Nor did his presence owe anything to his dress, whichwas of that long-haired coarse woollen stuff they called frieze, worn,probably, by not another nobleman in the country, and regarded as fitterfor a yeoman. His eyes, though he was yet but sixty-five or so, werealready hazy, and his voice was husky and a little broken--results ofthe constantly poor health and frequent suffering he had had for manyyears; but he carried it all 'with'--to quote the prince of courtesy,sir Philip Sydney--'with a right old man's grace, that will seemlivelier than his age will afford him.'
The moment he entered, the sewer in the antechamber at the other end ofthe room had given a signal to one waiting at the head of the stairleading down to the hall, and his lordship was hardly seated,ere--although the kitchen was at the corner of the pitched courtdiagonally opposite--he bore the first dish into the room, followed byhis assistants, laden each with another.
Lady Margaret made Dorothy sit down by her. A place on her other sidewas vacant.
'Where is this truant husband of thine, my lady?' asked the marquis, assoon as Dr. Bayly had said grace. 'Know you whether he eats at all, orwhen, or where? It is now three days since he has filled his place atthy side, yet is he in the castle. Thou knowest, my lady, I deal notwith him, who is so soon to sit in this chair, as with another, but Ilike it not. Know you what occupies him to day?'
'I do not, my lord,' answered lady Margaret. 'I have had but one glimpseof him since the morning, and if he looks now as he looked then, I fearyour lordship would be minded rather to drive him from your table thanwelcome him to a seat beside you.'
As she spoke, lady Margaret caught a glimpse of a peculiar expression onScudamore's face, where he stood behind his master's chair.
'Your page, my lord,' she said, 'seems to know something of him: if itpleased you to put him to the question--'
'Hey, Scudamore!' said the marquis without turning his head; 'what haveyou seen of my lord Herbert?'
'As much as could be seen of him, my lord,' answered Scudamore. 'He wasnew from the powder-mill, and his face and hands were as he had beenblown three times up the hall chimney.'
'I would thou didst pay more heed to what is fitting, thou monkey, andknewest either place or time for thy foolish jests! It will be long erethou soil one of thy white fingers for king or country,' said themarquis, neither angrily nor merrily. 'Get another flask of claret,' headded, 'and keep thy wit for thy mates, boy.'
Dorothy cast one involuntary glance at her cousin. His face was red asfire, but, as it seemed to her, more with suppressed amusement thanshame. She had not been much longer in the castle before she learnedthat, in the opinion of the household, the marquis did his best, orworst rather, to ruin young Scudamore by indulgence. The judgment,however, was partly the product of jealousy, although doubtless themarquis had in his case a little too much relaxed the bonds ofdiscipline. The youth was bright and ready, and had as yet been foundtrustworthy; his wit was tolerable, and a certain gay naivete of speechand manner set off to the best advantage what there was of it; but hislaughter was sometimes mischievous, and on the present occasion Dorothycould not rid herself of the suspicion that he was laughing in hissleeve at his master, which caused her to redden in her turn. Scudamoresaw it, and had his own fancies concerning the phenomenon.