CHAP. VI.
Some snakes must hiss, because they're born with stings.
The table in Milverton Hall was already surrounded by the hungryguests; and a substantial old English breakfast, well suited to theappetites and the digestion of active and manly hunters, was spreadbefore them. They were so busied over the cold joints and the venisonpasties, or with the amber ale that foamed in silver tankards, asscarcely to notice the entrance of a latecomer, and therefore Cuthbertslipped into a vacant place at the bottom of the table, without othergreeting than the good-humoured nod of a ruddy-looking young parsonseated opposite, as he raised a tankard to his lips. There was littletalk, save a few words about the sport, until having fairly finishedtheir meal, the chairs were backed a little from the huge oaken table;the serving men lifted off the large dishes, still weighty with goodfare, removed the trenchers, and having carried round the basin andewer, large silver cups, filled with canary wine, prepared, after thefashion of the time, with sugar and with certain herbs, so as to makea delicious beverage in warm weather, were placed upon the table. Theshort grace "Benedicto benedicatur" having been uttered by GeorgeJuxon, the youthful rector alluded to, Sir Oliver took the massive cupwhich stood before himself, and intimating to Juxon to follow hisexample with the other, he rose, and giving for a toast, "His mostgracious Majesty King Charles," took a small draught of it, and passedthe cup to the noble looking gentleman who had been sitting on hisright hand, and was then standing by his side. The toast passed roundwith an audible "God bless him!" from every guest, after the exampleof the loyal host.
"Ah, Sir Philip," observed the worthy knight to the noble strangernear him, "we have fallen upon evil times; and it is grievous to thinkthat there should be one house in all England where the health of hismost sacred Majesty may no longer be duly drunk, as is becoming inall good and true subjects."
"Yet, I fear," replied Sir Philip Arundel, "there are many in whichthe King's health is no longer a standing toast: unquestionablyrepublican feelings and principles have made great progress among theburgher classes generally, and have infected not a few above them."
"It is those sour-faced, canting rogues, the prick-eared,psalm-singing Puritans, that are doing all the mischief," said SirCharles Lambert: "we want their ears, after the Turkish fashion,cropped by sacksful."
"But it is not calling them names, or cutting off their ears," saidGeorge Juxon, "that will put them down; neither will all the water inyour horse-ponds quench the fire in any of their bosoms."
"Very likely; but there is nothing like trying what will stop them;and as sure as ever I catch any of the hypocritical rogues praying andsinging near our parish they shall have a bellyful of muddy water, anda back-load of smart blows with whip or cudgel."
There was an expression of most irrepressible disgust on thecountenance of Cuthbert Noble as Sir Charles uttered this brutalspeech; which Sir Charles observing, he turned quickly to Sir Oliver,and added, "These are times in which we should look well to all ourhousemates, for fear we should be fostering some of these godlyknaves, who cover their false hearts with closed lips and demurefaces, and may corrupt our children and our servants."
"You mean me," said Cuthbert, starting on his feet with an energywhich startled every one at table, and took Sir Charles so totally bysurprise that he turned pale and livid, and seemed at a loss forwords.
"Sir Oliver," pursued the youthful tutor in a glow of indignation thatoverspread his cheeks, and made his eyes glance fire, "I have long andoften endured the contemptuous and studied insults of your haughtykinsman on his visits here; and while they were only directed againstme as a poor scholar and a dependant, it was well:--happy in yourfavour, and in the attachment and respect of the gentle young master,who is my pupil, I could afford to look down upon the dwarfish statureof so mean a mind; but when he would thus----"
Before it was possible to arrest him, Sir Charles, who sat upon thesame side of the table, had run behind him, and, ere he could turn,inflicted a deep wound in his back with a large hunting-knife. Theyoung student fell, bathed in his blood, upon the floor; and all thehousehold, already brought near to the door by the loudness of thevoices, rushed into the hall. Nothing was more affecting than to seethe terrified agony and loud sobs of the noble boy Arthur, who stoodover his fainting tutor with tears, and would neither be comforted norremoved.
George Juxon had instantly seized Sir Charles with an iron grasp. SirOliver was troubled, and scarce knew how to act; while Sir PhilipArundel, the most self-possessed of the party, desired the attendantsto send swiftly to Warwick for a surgeon, and suggested to Sir Oliverthat the aggressor should be committed to his charge, and that hewould take him to his own home, and be responsible for his appearanceto answer for the crime which he had just committed, when the chargeshould be preferred against him in due order. But George Juxonrequired that he should remain in custody at Milverton until it wasascertained whether the stab inflicted on Cuthbert might not provefatal.
The ladies of Milverton, who were absent, walking in the grounds, werehappily spared this painful scene. To the exclamations of wonder,regret, and even condolence, with which Sir Charles was addressed bysome others of the party, he answered nothing, but stood with lipsclosely compressed in sullen scorn and in a dogged silence.
Juxon unhanded him, after Sir Philip promised that he should for thepresent be kept close guarded, and gave all his attention to Cuthbert,who was borne slowly and carefully up into his chamber, and his woundthere bound up with a temporary dressing by Juxon himself, till properassistance should arrive. This done, he left him for a while in thecare of the servants, while he went down to aid in composing SirOliver and the ladies of the family.
This young clergyman, who was a distant connection of the good bishopof the same name, the treasurer at that time of the King, was a goodspecimen of a particular class of richly beneficed clergy, notuncommon in his day. He was a ripe scholar, a kind, orthodoxchurchman, and a manly country gentleman. His habits were those of histime: they grew out of the circumstances of that period and the stateof society in all country places; and he had seen his own pious anddignified relative hunt his own pack of beagles, without a thoughtthat he was doing any thing more than taking a vigorous exercise,beneficial alike to the health of his body and his mind.
Juxon was among, but above, sportsmen. He had a wealthy rectory, andlived hospitably with his equals, and charitably towards the poor. Inthe discharge of his parochial duties, he was sensible and serious: hevalued books, and he had a due appreciation of genius.
He had been of the hunting party this morning, and was thus a guestat Milverton, where he had long occasionally visited, and where, upona former day, he had chanced to have rather a long and freeconversation with Cuthbert, and, albeit widely different in theirhabits, had found common ground of interest in the subjects on whichthey talked, and they had parted well pleased with each other. Hadthey touched on politics, indeed, they would have differed; for Juxonwas a most stanch supporter of the court party: through evil reportand good report he stuck close to the crown; he wrote for it, spokefor it, and was ready to lay down his life in the defence of it; buthe was of too large a mind to wonder at the opinions of those opposedto the government of the King; nor was he blind either to those abusesof the prerogative which had first awakened a spirit of resistance inmen of undoubted worth and patriotism, nor to the grievous folly ofthose deplorable counsels, whereby the King had been induced orencouraged to force upon the proud and resolute Scots the disciplineof a church to which they disclaimed allegiance.
Again, he was of a generous spirit, detested persecution in any thing,especially in religion and matters of conscience, and had felt, withthe Lord Falkland, in all the earlier stages of the present quarrel.Nevertheless, a decided and sincere attachment to the monarchy, anunshaken respect for the personal qualities of the King, and adevotion to the forms and to the spirit of that church in which he wasbaptized, suckled, and educated,--a devotion quite distinct from, andindependent of,
any feeling of self-interest, as an incumbent,--causedhim to resolve upon his own course in the coming troubles with acheerful firmness.
These sentiments, if the conversation in the hall had not been sosuddenly put an end to, would there have been elicited. He had notapproved the outbreak and burst of indignation with which thesensitive and excited Cuthbert had so energetically appropriated theindirect, but mischievous, speech with which Sir Charles Lambert hadsought to sow a suspicion of his tutor's integrity in the bosom of SirOliver; but he with his whole soul detested and abhorred the cowardlyand bloody ferocity with which the haughty and maddened barbarian hadresented the contemptuous expression of Cuthbert. There sprung up inhis heart at that moment a warmth of interest for the youth, whichnever afterwards, in fortunes the most dark and divided, entirely diedaway. But to return to the actual present. He saw the ladies, who hadbut just returned from a walk to the vineyard, in company with SirOliver, in a remote corner of the garden, and immediately joined them.
They were, as might be expected, very greatly troubled at the crueloccurrence, and pale with natural anxiety. Indeed there was anexpression of concern upon the countenance of Mistress Katharine, sovery deep, so profoundly sad, that even amid the sorrowfulperplexities of the moment it glanced across the mind of Juxon, that,in one or other of the parties in this business, her own heart wasmost closely interested, and he thought that he had never before seenhuman beauty with such a divine aspect. At the readily adoptedsuggestion of Katharine, her aunt Alice would have proceededinstantly to the chamber of the sufferer, to render him any service inher power; but Juxon requested of her not to do so, and recommendedthat the ladies should keep themselves quiet and apart until thesurgeon arrived, and the gentlemen now in the mansion should havedeparted. Observing, too, the extreme perplexity of Sir Oliver, whohad been and still was exceedingly agitated by this strange event, heentreated him to remain with them, and to keep himself calm and quietfor the present; assuring him that every thing which he could supposehim to wish in the present distress should be properly done, and thathe would certainly not leave Milverton himself while he could hope torender the slightest service to Sir Oliver in this difficulty. Therewas an earnestness of manner about Juxon, and at the same time such aquiet tone of internal confidence in the resources of his ownjudgment, that they all submitted to his guidance; and Sir Oliver wasgreatly comforted and strengthened by the thought that so wise andjudicious a friend was near him in his necessity.
The boy Arthur was watching and walking forwards on the Warwick road,as if his doing so could hasten the coming of assistance, and was inall that confusion of the troubled spirits which keeps the young heartthrobbing with fear.
In the library Sir Charles Lambert sat with folded arms and a loweringbrow, while Sir Philip Arundel stood, looking from the window with acountenance simply expressive of cold annoyance.
Of the half dozen gentlemen, who were still grouped in the hall, one,after observing, that "All's well that ends well,--and, perhaps, afterall, the young man's hurt might not prove dangerous, and that healways hoped for the best,"--stole his hand across quietly to the winecup, and took a very copious draught; another remarked, that he mustsay "the young man was very irritating;" a third wanted to know whatwas the use of their remaining there, and said he wanted to go home;while a fourth said, "One was a brute, and the other a fool: that hecared nothing for one, and knew nothing of the other."
But two gentlemen of a more thoughtful cast walked the hall in low andserious discourse, apprehensive by their words that the injury wouldprove fatal to Cuthbert; and resolving that so fierce an action asthat of Sir Charles should not pass unpunished. These were friends andneighbours of George Juxon; and expressed themselves well pleasedthat, for the sake of Sir Oliver and his family, so useful and kind aperson chanced to be at Milverton under the present circumstances.
At last the long expected surgeon arrived with the messenger who hadbeen sent for him, both having used all diligent expedition. He wasintroduced into the chamber of the patient by Juxon, and immediatelyproceeded to examine the wound. At the first sight he shook his head,and said to himself, in a very quick, low tone of voice, "The wonderis, that he is yet alive;" but on questioning Cuthbert as to hisfeelings, and finding some of the expected symptoms absent, and onvery carefully applying the probe, he cheerfully exclaimed, "There isgood hope of you, young master: there is no man living could pass asword where this blade has passed without injuring a vital part, if hewere to try; but a good angel hath had the guiding of this one. If itplease God to bless my skill, you shall do well; but it will be a slowcase, and a tedious time before you will be fairly on your legsagain."
"God's will be done," said Cuthbert, "for life or for death."
"If that is your mind," rejoined the surgeon, "my care will be wellhelped, and your cure the easier."
After cleaning and dressing the wound, and giving particulardirections as to diet broths, and writing a prescription for thenecessary medicines to produce composure and sleep, he took hisdeparture, promising an early visit on the morrow.
The favourable opinion thus given of Cuthbert's wound was quickly madeknown throughout the mansion, and received as welcome by all;operating upon each according to their personal characters, and to theinterest which they had felt in the issue of the violent deed whichhad stained the hospitable hall of Milverton. Sir Charles Lambert,indeed, but for the inconvenience and danger to himself, would havepreferred the more tragical event. As it was, when Sir Philip Arundelreturned from the gallery to the library, to announce to him thatCuthbert was considered in no present danger, he uttered no wordbeyond his wish instantly to return home.
"You are surely thankful," said Sir Philip, "that this unpleasantaffair has ended so much better than was feared. If you will not goand say so to the bleeding youth, which perhaps might just now toomuch disturb him, you will at least offer some words of atonement toyour elderly relative, Sir Oliver, for the outrage done under hisroof, and to a youth under his protection; a deed to be only excusedby pleading that your anger transported you into a paroxysm ofmadness."
"I shall go home," said Sir Charles: "are you ready?"
"I will never, sir, again cross your threshold: you are no Englishknight--you are not even a man. I shall send orders to my grooms tofollow me on my road home."
These words were swallowed by the same man who would have taken a lifethat same morning for a look of contempt; and with a white cheek, onwhich passion literally trembled, Sir Charles hurried to thecourt-yard, called for his horse, mounted, and dashing spurs into hissides, rode violently away--hatred in his own heart, and contemptpursuing him. In succession all the guests took their departure,except George Juxon, whom Sir Oliver requested to continue with himtill the morrow; and who, more for the sake of the patient than of thefamily, assented. He was not sorry that Sir Charles had departed inthe manner and in the temper described, nor did he care now to havehis person secured; for his offence, though grave as it yet stood, wasnot of a nature that in those days subjected to imprisonment any onewho could find bail for his future appearance: and in the present caseit was clear that Cuthbert would never prosecute a relation (albeitbase and unworthy), yet a relation of Sir Oliver Heywood.
The good knight, though a kind man, a fond father, and an easy master,having walked through life upon a path of velvet as smooth as his ownlawn, was sadly discomposed by this visitation of care; and the verytrouble and irregularity that was caused by it was felt by the oldgentleman in many ways that he dared not confess to others, and wasashamed to acknowledge to himself. A great weight, indeed, was takenfrom his mind by the assurance of Cuthbert's safety; for he washumane, and he liked the youth: but he had private reasons for a deepregret at the conduct of Sir Charles Lambert, and the interruption totheir intercourse which would of necessity ensue, and almost wishedthat he had parted with his young tutor immediately after thatdiscovery of his political leanings which he had himself not manydays ago so frankly made.
However, what had
now befallen Cuthbert beneath Sir Oliver's own roof,and by the hand of his own relative, gave him new and increased claimsupon the knight's protection and kindness, and there could be nofurther thought of their separating now till a distant period. The daywore rapidly away, and by the hour of supper some appearance of orderwas again restored to a mansion, in which every thing usuallyproceeded with the regularity of clockwork.
An intermitted dinner was an occurrence of which there was no previousmemory or record in the recollection of the oldest servant on theestablishment. Among the minor circumstances, and not the leastaffecting to the manly mind of Juxon, was a little dialogue which heoverheard between the little girl Lily and the boy Arthur, the childbeing unable to comprehend the fact of one man cutting another manwith a knife on purpose to hurt him. The true nature of the atrociousaction of course no one cared to explain to the little innocent: butshe had learned from the servants that Master Cuthbert was run throughwith a knife by Sir Charles Lambert; and she had come to cousinArthur, in a grave and pretty wonder, to know what they could mean.
The next day, being the birthday of Sir Oliver, was that on which themasque in preparation was to have been represented before a party ofthe neighbouring gentry, who had been specially invited to celebratethat annual feast in the good old hall of Milverton. Of so pleasant aholyday there could now be no further thought; and the May-dayfestival which was to follow the day after, though of course thevillagers would have their dance according to the immemorial custom,would lose half its gaiety and spirit by the absence of the familyfrom the manor house, and especially of the gentle and sweet MistressKatharine, whose words and ways had won for her all the hearts inMilverton, and for miles round.
It was an evening memorable in the life of Juxon, that in which hefirst sat down at table with the small family circle of theHeywoods;--in which he looked upon the majestic forehead ofKatharine,--marked the gentle fire of her dark eyes, and theexpression of all that is sweet and engaging in humanity about a mouthwhere her noble qualities were most fairly written.
After the grave and laudable custom of those good old times, theevening service from the Book of Common Prayer was invariably read tothe assembled households of the country gentlemen. The office ofreading prayers was usually in the absence of a clergyman performed bySir Oliver himself as the priest of his own family, or at times hedeputed Cuthbert to supply his place. The duty this evening wasperformed by Juxon in a solemn, feeling, impressive manner; and whenit was concluded, and the family retired, he hastened to the chamberof Cuthbert, and finding that the composing draught had taken kindeffect, and that he was dropping off into a comforting sleep, withdrewagain with as soft a step as he had entered, and, exhausted with thefatigues and the painful excitements of the day's adventures, herepaired to his own room, and thankfully lay down to rest. As he wasextinguishing the lamp, his eye read the posy on the wall; and hecould not but feel a sweet pleasure to be reposing in such a mansion,and with such a family:--
"Would'st have a friend, would'st know what friend is best? Have God thy friend, who passeth all the rest."