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THE NEST OF THE SPARROWHAWK
_A ROMANCE OF THE XVIIth CENTURY_
BY THE BARONESS ORCZY
_November, 1909_
CONTENTS
PART I
CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF A KENTISH SQUIRE II. ON A JULY AFTERNOON III. THE EXILE IV. GRINDING POVERTY V. THE LEGAL ASPECT VI. UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE ELMS VII. THE STRANGER WITHIN THE GATES VIII. PRINCE AMEDE D'ORLEANS IX. SECRET SERVICE X. AVOWED ENMITY XI. SURRENDER XII. A WOMAN'S HEART XIII. AN IDEA
PART II XIV. THE HOUSE IN LONDON XV. A GAME OF PRIMERO XVI. A CONFLICT XVII. RUS IN URBE XVIII. THE TRAP XIX. DISGRACE XX. MY LORD PROTECTOR'S PATROL
PART III XXI. IN THE MEANWHILE XXII. BREAKING THE NEWS XXIII. THE ABSENT FRIEND XXIV. NOVEMBER THE 2D XXV. AN INTERLUDE XXVI. THE OUTCAST XXVII. LADY SUE'S FORTUNE XXVIII. HUSBAND AND WIFE XXIX. GOOD-BYE XXX. ALL BECAUSE OF THE TINDER-BOX XXXI. THE ASSIGNATION XXXII. THE PATH NEAR THE CLIFFS
PART IV XXXIII. THE DAY AFTER XXXIV. AFTERWARDS XXXV. THE SMITH'S FORGE XXXVI. THE GIRL-WIFE XXXVII. THE OLD WOMANXXXVIII. THE VOICE OF THE DEAD XXXIX. THE HOME-COMING OF ADAM LAMBERT XL. EDITHA'S RETURN XLI. THEIR NAME XLII. THE RETURN XLIII. THE SANDS OF EPPLE XLIV. THE EPILOGUE
PART I
The Nest of the Sparrowhawk
CHAPTER I
THE HOUSE OF A KENTISH SQUIRE
Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy folded his hands before him ere he spoke:
"Nay! but I tell thee, woman, that the Lord hath no love for suchfrivolities! and alack! but 'tis a sign of the times that an EnglishSquire should favor such evil ways."
"Evil ways? The Lord love you, Master Hymn-of-Praise, and pray do youcall half an hour at the skittle alley 'evil ways'?"
"Aye, evil it is to indulge our sinful bodies in such recreation as dothnot tend to the glorification of the Lord and the sanctification of ourimmortal souls."
He who sermonized thus unctuously and with eyes fixed with sterndisapproval on the buxom wench before him, was a man who had passed themeridian of life not altogether--it may be surmised--without havingindulged in some recreations which had not always the sanctification ofhis own immortal soul for their primary object. The bulk of his figuretestified that he was not averse to good cheer, and there was a certainhidden twinkle underlying the severe expression of his eyes as theyrested on the pretty face and round figure of Mistress Charity that didnot necessarily tend to the glorification of the Lord.
Apparently, however, the admonitions of Master Hymn-of-Praise made but ascanty impression on the young girl's mind, for she regarded him with amixture of amusement and contempt as she shrugged her plump shouldersand said with sudden irrelevance:
"Have you had your dinner yet, Master Busy?"
"'Tis sinful to address a single Christian person as if he or she wereseveral," retorted the man sharply. "But I'll tell thee in confidence,mistress, that I have not partaken of a single drop more comforting thancold water the whole of to-day. Mistress de Chavasse mixed thesack-posset with her own hands this morning, and locked it in thecellar, of which she hath rigorously held the key. Ten minutes ago whenshe placed the bowl on this table, she called my attention to the factthat the delectable beverage came to within three inches of the brim.Meseems I shall have to seek for a less suspicious, moreChristian-spirited household, whereon to bestow in the near future myfaithful services."
Hardly had Master Hymn-of-Praise finished speaking when he turned verysharply round and looked with renewed sternness--wholly untempered by atwinkle this time--in the direction whence he thought a suppressedgiggle had just come to his ears. But what he saw must surely havecompletely reassured him; there was no suggestion of unseemly ribaldryabout the young lad who had been busy laying out the table with spoonsand mugs, and was at this moment vigorously--somewhat ostentatiously,perhaps--polishing a carved oak chair, bending to his task in a mannerwhich fully accounted for the high color in his cheeks.
He had long, lanky hair of a pale straw-color, a thin face and highcheek-bones, and was dressed--as was also Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy--ina dark purple doublet and knee breeches, all looking very much the worsefor wear; the brown tags and buttons with which these garments hadoriginally been roughly adorned were conspicuous in a great many placesby their absence, whilst all those that remained were mere skeletons oftheir former selves.
The plain collars and cuffs which relieved the dull color of the men'sdoublets were of singularly coarse linen not beyond reproach as tocleanliness, and altogether innocent of starch; whilst the thick brownworsted stockings displayed many a hole through which the flesh peeped,and the shoes of roughly tanned leather were down at heel and wornthrough at the toes.
Undoubtedly even in these days of more than primitive simplicity and ofsober habiliments Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy, butler at Acol Court inthe county of Kent, and his henchman, Master Courage Toogood, would havebeen conspicuous for the shabbiness and poverty of the livery which theywore.
The hour was three in the afternoon. Outside a glorious July sun spreadradiance and glow over an old-fashioned garden, over tall yew hedges,and fantastic forms of green birds and heads of beasts carefully cut andtrimmed, over clumps of late roses and rough tangles of marguerites andpotentillas, of stiff zinnias and rich-hued snapdragons.
Through the open window came the sound of wood knocking against wood, ofexclamations of annoyance or triumph as the game proceeded, and everynow and then a ripple of prolonged laughter, girlish, fresh, pure as thefragrant air, clear as the last notes of the cuckoo before he speaks hisfinal farewell to summer.
Every time that echo of youth and gayety penetrated into theoak-raftered dining-room, Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy pursed his thicklips in disapproval, whilst the younger man, had he dared, would nodoubt have gone to the window, and leaning out as far as safety wouldpermit, have tried to catch a glimpse of the skittle alley and of alight-colored kirtle gleaming among the trees. But as it was he caughtthe older man's stern eyes fixed reprovingly upon him, he desisted fromhis work of dusting and polishing, and, looking up to the heavy oak-beamabove him, he said with becoming fervor:
"Lord! how beautifully thou dost speak, Master Busy!"
"Get on with thy work, Master Courage," retorted the other relentlessly,"and mix not thine unruly talk with the wise sayings of thy betters."
"My work is done, Master."
"Go fetch the pasties then, the quality will be in directly," rejoinedthe other peremptorily, throwing a scrutinizing look at the table,whereon a somewhat meager collation of cherries, raspberries andgooseberries and a more generous bowl of sack-posset had been arrangedby Mistress Charity and Master Courage under his own supervision.
"Doubtless, doubtless," here interposed the young maid somewhathurriedly, desirous perhaps of distracting the grave butler's attentionfrom the mischievous oglings of the lad as he went out of the room, "asyou remark--hem--as thou remarkest, this place of service is none to theliking of such as ... thee ..."
She threw him a coy glance from beneath well-grown lashes, which causedthe saintly man to pass his tongue over his lips, an action which of asurety had not the desire for spiritual glory for its mainspring. Withdainty hands Mistress Charity busied herself with the delicacies uponthe table. She adjusted a gooseberry which seemed inclined to tumble,heaped up the currants into more graceful pyramids. Womanlike, whilsther eyes apparently followed the motions of her hands they neverthelesstook stock of Master Hymn-of-Praise's attitude with regard to herself.
She knew that in defiance of my Lord Protector and all his Puritans shewas looking her best this afternoon: though her kirtle was as threadbareas Master Courage's breeches it was nevertheless just short enough todisplay to great advantage her neatly turned ankle and well-arched footon which the thick stockings--well-darned--and shabby shoes sat not atall amiss.
Her kerchief was neatly folded, white and slightly starched, her cuffsimmaculately and primly turned back just above her round elbow andshapely arm.
On the whole Mistress Charity was pleased with her own appearance. SirMarmaduke de Chavasse and the mistress were seeing company thisafternoon, and the neighboring Kentish squires who had come to playskittles and to drink sack-posset might easily find a less welcome sightthan that of the serving maid at Acol Court.
"As for myself," now resumed Mistress Charity, after a slight pause,during which she had felt Master Busy's admiring gaze fixed persistentlyupon her, "as for myself, I'll seek service with a lady less like tofind such constant fault with a hard-working maid."
Master Courage had just returned carrying a large dish heaped up withdelicious looking pasties fresh from the oven, brown and crisp withbutter, and ornamented with sprigs of burrage which made them appearexceedingly tempting.
Charity took the dish from the lad and heavy as it was, she carried itto the table and placed it right in the very center of it. Sherearranged the sprigs of burrage, made a fresh disposition of thebaskets of fruit, whilst both the men watched her open-mouthed, agape atso much loveliness and grace.
"And," she added significantly, looking with ill-concealed covetousnessat the succulent pasties, "where there's at least one dog or cat aboutthe place."
"I know not, mistress," said Hymn-of-Praise, "that thou wast over-fondof domestic pets ... 'Tis sinful to ..."
"La! Master Busy, you ... hem ... thou mistakest my meaning. I have nolove for such creatures--but without so much as a kitten about thehouse, prithee how am I to account to my mistress for the pasties and... and comfits ... not to speak of breakages."
"There is always Master Courage," suggested Hymn-of-Praise, with amovement of the left eyelid which in the case of any one less saintlymight have been described as a sly wink.
"That there is not," interrupted the lad decisively; "my stomach rebelsagainst comfits, and sack-posset could never be laid to my door."
"I give thee assurance, Master Busy," concluded the young girl, "thatthe county of Kent no longer suits my constitution. 'Tis London for me,and thither will I go next year."
"'Tis a den of wickedness," commented Busy sententiously, "in spite ofmy Lord Protector, who of a truth doth turn his back on the Saints andhath even allowed the great George Fox and some of the Friends tolanguish in prison, whilst profligacy holds undisputed sway. MasterCourage, meseems those mugs need washing a second time," he added, withsudden irrelevance. "Take them to the kitchen, and do not let me seteyes on thee until they shine like pieces of new silver."
Master Courage would have either resisted the order altogether, or atany rate argued the point of the cleanliness of the mugs, had he dared;but the saintly man possessed on occasions a heavy hand, and he alsowore boots which had very hard toes, and the lad realized from theperemptory look in the butler's eyes that this was an occasion when bothhand and boot would serve to emphasize Master Busy's orders withunpleasant force if he himself were at all slow to obey.
He tried to catch Charity's eye, but was made aware once more of theeternal truth that women are perverse and fickle creatures, for shewould not look at him, and seemed absorbed in the rearrangement of herkerchief.
With a deep sigh which should have spoken volumes to her adamantineheart, Courage gathered all the mugs together by their handles, andreluctantly marched out of the room once more.
Hymn-of-Praise Busy waited a moment or two until the clattering of thepewter died away in the distance, then he edged a little closer to thetable whereat Mistress Charity seemed still very busy with the fruit,and said haltingly:
"Didst thou really wish to go, mistress ... to leave thy fond, adoringHymn-of-Praise ... to go, mistress? ... and to break my heart?"
Charity's dainty head--with its tiny velvet cap edged with lawn whichhardly concealed sufficiently the wealth of her unruly brown hair--sankmeditatively upon her left shoulder.
"Lord, Master Busy," she said demurely, "how was a poor maid to knowthat you meant it earnestly?"
"Meant it earnestly?"
"Yes ... a new kirtle ... a gold ring ... flowers ... and sack-possetand pasties to all the guests," she explained. "Is that what you mean... hem ... what _thou_, meanest, Master Busy?"
"Of a surety, mistress ... and if thou wouldst allow me to ... to ..."
"To what, Master Busy?"
"To salute thee," said the saintly man, with a becoming blush, "as theLord doth allow his creatures to salute one another ... with a chastekiss, mistress."
Then as she seemed to demur, he added by way of persuasion:
"I am not altogether a poor man, mistress; and there is that in mycoffer upstairs put by, as would please thee in the future."
"Nay! I was not thinking of the money, Master Busy," said this daughterof Eve, coyly, as she held a rosy cheek out in the direction of therighteous man.
'Tis the duty even of a veracious chronicler to draw a discreet veilover certain scenes full of blissful moments for those whom he portrays.
There are no data extant as to what occurred during the next fewseconds in the old oak-beamed dining-room of Acol Court in the Island ofThanet. Certain it is that when next we get a peep at MasterHymn-of-Praise Busy and Mistress Charity Haggett, they are standing sideby side, he looking somewhat shame-faced in the midst of his obviousjoy, and she supremely unconcerned, once more absorbed in the apparentlynever-ending adornment of the refreshment table.
"Thou'lt have no cause to regret this, mistress," said Busycomplacently, "we will be married this very autumn, and I have it in mymind--an it please the Lord--to go up to London and take secret serviceunder my Lord Protector himself."
"Secret service, Master Busy ... hem ... I mean Hymn-of-Praise, dear ...secret service? ... What may that be?"
"'Tis a noble business, Charity," he replied, "and one highly commendedby the Lord: the business of tracking the wicked to their lair, ofdiscovering evil where 'tis hidden in dark places, conspiracies againstmy Lord Protector, adherence to the cause of the banished tyrants and... and ... so forth."
"Sounds like spying to me," she remarked curtly.
"Spying? ... Spying, didst thou say?" he exclaimed indignantly. "Fie onthee, Charity, for the thought! Secret service under my Lord Protector'tis called, and a highly lucrative business too, and one for which Ihave remarkable aptitude."
"Indeed?"
"Aye! See the manner in which I find things out, mistress. This housenow ... thou wouldst think 'tis but an ordinary house ... eh?"
His manner changed; the saintliness vanished from his attitude; theexpression of his face became sly and knowing. He came nearer toCharity, took hold of her wrist, whilst he raised one finger to hislips.
"Thou wouldst think 'tis an ordinary house ... wouldst thou not?" herepeated, sinking his voice to a whisper, murmuring right into her earso that his breath blew her hair about, causing it to tickle her cheek.
She shuddered with apprehension. His manner was so mysterious.
"Yes ... yes ..." she murmured, terrified.
"But I tell thee that there's something going on," he addedsignificantly.
"La, Master Busy ... you ... you terrify me!" she said, on the verge oftears. "What could there be going on?"
Master Busy raised both his hands and with the right began counting offthe fingers of the left.
"Firstly," he began solemnly, "there's an heiress! secondly ourmaster--poor as a church mouse--thirdly a young scholar--secretary, theycall him, though he writes no letters, and is all day absorbed in hisstudies ... Well, mistress," he concluded, turning a triumphant gaze onher, "tell me, prithe
e, what happens?"
"What happens, Master Hymn-of-Praise? ... I do not understand. Whatdoes happen?"
"I'll tell thee," he replied sententiously, "when I have found out; butmark my words, mistress, there's something going on in this house ...Hush! not a word to that young jackanapes," he added as a distantclatter of pewter mugs announced the approach of Master Courage. "Watchwith me, mistress, thou'lt perceive something. And when I have foundout, 'twill be the beginning of our fortunes."
Once more he placed a warning finger on his lips; once more he gaveMistress Charity a knowing wink, and her wrist an admonitory pressure,then he resumed his staid and severe manner, his saintly mien andsomewhat nasal tones, as from the gay outside world beyond thewindow-embrasure the sound of many voices, the ripple of young laughter,the clink of heeled boots on the stone-flagged path, proclaimed thearrival of the quality.