CHAPTER XII
THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN"
A wisp of cloud, a long trail of shimmering gold, broke loose, swept withthe touch of softest silk across my cheek, and half awakened me. I waslazily and sleepily regretting that such caresses only came in dreams,when I was brought sharply back to full life by a ripple of heartylaughter.
"Gloat on!" said I complacently.
"I knew you'd slip some time or other. Gloat! Of course I shall gloat."And she laughed again. I should have borne it easily enough, coming fromher, under any circumstances, but there was one circumstance which made ita pure joy. The white hands were busy with her unruly yellow hair, and Iwas so far gone foolward that I was in some sort hopeful that they wereimprisoning the wisp of golden cloud that had awakened me. I bitterlyregretted that I was not as nimble at waking as Jack. He would be sleepinglike a leg of mutton one second and, at the touch of a feather, as wideawake as a weasel the next. I took time--it was the Latin rubbishcumbering my brain, he used to say--or I might have made sure.
Mistress Margaret was perched on the edge of my bench. She seemed in nohurry to move, and I could not get up till she did, so I lay still,cradling my head in my hands, and looked contentedly at her. It was now sogloomy that I had evidently been asleep some time.
"I knew you'd slip," she repeated with great zest. "All men do. And I'mglad you slipped, for it proved you human. I was getting quite overawed bythe terrible precision with which you did exactly the right thing atexactly the right time. It made me feel so very small and inferior, and nowoman likes that. It's not nice."
"Or natural," said I.
"I see you're unmistakably awake, sir!" was the tart reply. She rose andtook short turns up and down the cell and went on: "But why slip intojail, Master Wheatman? Why did you not tell father who you were and whatyou had done for me?"
"And so prove at once to the authorities in the town that he was not whathe pretended to be!"
"Ho!" she said, and stopped short.
"Our idea was, I think, to free the Colonel, if we could."
"Yes." She was not gloating now, but wondering.
"Well, madam, I found him free, and the only advantage I can see in yourplan is, that I should have had him as a companion in jail. Whereas nowI've mended my night's sleep with a refreshing nap, and Master Freake hasso lucidly explained things to the Mayor that Timothy of the long coat iskicking his heels at the top of the stairs, and wondering how much longeryou're going to be. Shall we once more breathe the upper air, as Virgilwould put it? This hole is as bad as a corner in his under-world."
"And I laughed at you for slipping, Master Wheatman! I shall never dareto look you in the face again."
"Don't you believe it, madam," said I airily, leading the way to thesteps. "I've heard Copper Nob say the same thing scores of times."
"Who's Copper Nob?"
The question came like the crack of a whip, and I was glad the familiarphrase had slipped out unawares and diverted her.
"Our Kate," I explained.
"Oh indeed, sir! A more beautiful head of hair no woman in this landpossesses, and you glibly call her 'Copper Nob.' Doubtless you haveselected some nice expressive name for me!"
"I shouldn't dare!" I protested hotly.
"Why not? You do it for her, brazenly and wantonly."
"Yes, madam, but she's my sister."
"How does that assure me?"
"A man's sister isn't a woman," said I, and went ahead and pushed openthe door. There, sure enough, was Timothy, looking very uncertain andrueful. The little man's complaisance had given me the greatest wonder ofmy life--Margaret's silent watching over me as I lay asleep, and I gavehim a guinea with much gladness.
"The coat's too big for you, Timothy, and it's no good denying it. I'llspeak to his worship about a new one of the right length."
"Thank yer, sir," he said, grinning oafishly as he pouched the guinea."I'd rather have a new coat than a new missus, and, swelp me bob, I wantboth."
Margaret joined me, and we at once made our way to the "Rising Sun." Workfor the day was over, and the street was now getting thronged and noisy.Many curious looks were bent on us, but no one dared to interfere with aman of my evil reputation, a horse-thief being the last thing indesperadoes. We had only a few yards to go, but my mistress apprised me insweet whisperings that Master Freake's explanation was that Sultan hadbeen innocently obtained from the real thief, that I was his servant, and,not knowing of the horse deal, had loyally kept silent lest I should makemischief--a happy and reasonably truthful rendering of the real facts.
"After his private talk with Master Mayor," she added, "that worthy man'sknees were as hard worked as the hinges of an ale-house door."
"The poor cringeling is but a grocer," said I, as we turned in under thearchway of the "Rising Sun." The host saw us through the kitchen window,and ran out to usher us in with the assurance of a brass weathercock.
"Sommat like a jail delivery, eh, y'r 'onour? Gom, if I wudna pinch fifty'osses to be fetched out o' clink by such a bonny lady, begging yourladyship's pardon."
"She shall fetch you out," said I sourly, "when you're jailed for notstealing."
"His honour's commands are a law unto his handmaiden," said Margaretdemurely and icily, addressing him, but aiming point-blank at me. Her shotblew me clean out of the water, and I stood there guggling like a bornidiot. "Curse you, will you never get out of your yokel's ways?" said I tomyself. It was as if I had said to the sergeant, speaking of Jane, "Sheshall draw you a mug of beer." I was clean nonplussed, and felt asuncomfortable as a boiling crawfish, but fortunately rattle-pate came tomy aid and drowned my confusion in a flood of words.
"And all he said, y'r ladyship, was that Timothy's coat was too big for'im. Gom, it beat cock-fighting, it did. Swelp me bob it did. I never sawa man so staggered as the Mayor, but he's got over it fine, and gone 'ome,good man, with a crick in his back and near on a pint of my best brandy inhis belly. When these 'ere wild Highland rappers and renders come, he'sjust primed up to make 'em a grand speech at bridge yonder, and if thatdunna frighten 'em off, nuthin' wull, and my cellars will be as ill filledwith beer as Timothy's coat is with brawn. I'm getting the best supper onthe Chester road for yer, y'r honour, and that'll mike you feel as bold assixpence among sixpenn'orth o' coppers. But come along, y'r ladyship. TheColonel's upstairs. Follow me!"
Words ran out of him like ale out of a stunned barrel. He clacked onincessantly on the way upstairs, and clacked as boldly as ever as heushered us into the room, where the Colonel was awaiting us alone.
"'Ere 'e is, y'r lordship," he said gustily. "'Ere's the nobby gentlemanas didna steal yer 'oss. But yow'd best keep yer eye on 'im, on my say so.He'll pinch sommat o' yow'n yet afore 'e's done."
The Colonel, who was toasting his toes at a roaring fire, rose as Ifollowed Margaret towards him. He made me a precise and formal bow, whichI imitated farmer fashion. "This is Master Oliver Wheatman of theHanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host,lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could nothave heard her.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow.
"The honour is mine, sir," I replied, repeating mine, and wondering thewhile if I ever should learn to bend like a willow instead of a jointeddoll.
"Nay, I protest, sir." This suavely to me; then, stepping sharply towardsthe host, he stormed, "Damn ye, man, get on the landlord's side of thedoor, or I'll rout it down around your lazy ears. Slids! I've shot aninnkepeer for less in the Rhineland."
"Them 'ere furriners--" began the host, but the Colonel swamped him withsomething of which I could make out nothing except that it was a fairlysuccessful attempt to talk and sneeze at the same time. It finished offthe host, who retired, beaten with his own weapon. The victor, waitingtill the door was closed, tiptoed up to it and listened carefully.
"A rather interesting feature about dad," whispered Margaret withmischief in her eyes, "is that when he'
s angry he curses in French, andwhen he's mad he execrates in German."
"Neatly rounding off his daughter's accomplishments," said I.
"And how, sir?"
"Who gibes in English and loves in Italian."
She stabbed me with her eyes, and said, "Your services give you noprivileges, sir."
"I know that, madam, but my yokelship does."
I spoke lightly, keeping the bitterness of my heart out of my voice,though it had surged up into my speech. I may have been mistaken, misledby the flickering fire-light, but the anger seemed to melt out of her eyes.
The return of the Colonel ended our cut-and-thrust.
"Soldiering," he said, "is nine-tenths caution and one-tenth devilment.Yon glavering idiot has long ears to match his long tongue. And now, sir,let me greet you as I should."
He seized my hand, shook it warmly, and continued, "A father's thanks,Master Wheatman, for your kindness to my Margaret. Anon she shall tell methe whole story, but I know already that you are a gallant gentleman whomI shall have the honour of turning into a fine soldier, and neither angel,man, nor devil could make you fairer requital."
Praise and promise were far beyond any desert or hope of mine, but I saidboldly, "I am no gentleman, but just a plain, few-acred yeoman, who hastried to serve your daughter--"
"Tried?" he snorted. "Tried, indeed! I've been soldiering man and boythese forty odd years, and, slids, I've never known better work." He ranme up and down with his eyes and, turning to Margaret, continued, "By thebeard of the prophet, Madge, Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards is avast improvement on the Baron."
Margaret blushed daintily and hastily covered his mouth with her fingers.
"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night."
"Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight."This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, theprepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her wasat Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden."
"Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting.
"So it was," he said heartily, conceding the point. "Escorted by, orescorting, I was never clear which, a fat German baron nearly five feethigh, who begged me to horsewhip her into marrying him."
"You shot him?" said I, so very energetically that Margaret's pout turnedinto a smile.
"Dear me, no," he said, pretending to yawn. "I left him to Madge, poorfellow! I hope you've given her every satisfaction, Master Wheatman."
"That he hasn't," said Margaret briskly. "He's spent far too much timeputting me in what he considers my proper place."
"My friend," said he to me gravely, "you're in for a dog's life."
"You're right about the life, dad, but wrong about the dog. Good-bye tillsupper, you nasty ripper-up of your daughter's character!"
So saying, she kissed him on each cheek, smiled at me, and left us.
"I'd like to sluice the jail feeling off myself," said I to the Colonel.
"Right," he replied, looking at his watch. "You've just half an hour. Ifind England irksomely restful and law-abiding after the Continent, butI'm glad of it for once. I should be damnably vexed if I'd hanged you, andMadge wouldn't have liked it either."
He had a grave voice, like a judge's, and a quick, pert eye, like ajackdaw's. Outwardly he was as unlike Margaret as the haft of a pike isunlike a lily, but I already saw her spirit in him.
"Sir," said I, "when I am fortified by a good supper, I will venture toindicate my preferences on the subject."
He took out his snuff-box, tapped it carefully, opened it, and held itout to me.
"You have begun well, sir. I hear you are a great scholar, Latin and allthat, quite pat. Damme, sir, those ancients understood things. They knewhow to honour the gods, for they made soldiers of 'em and set 'em fightingin the clouds. There's divinity for you! You've got twenty-eight minutes."
I laughed and left him.
The room in which my introduction to the Colonel had taken place wasimmediately over the archway. Its window opened on to a balcony which,supported on thick oak balks, stood over the causeway of the street; itsdoor was in a passage leading from one wing of the house to the other, andin the passage were three leaded lattice-windows of greenish glass,plentifully sprinkled with blobs and nodes, giving on the long inn-yard.The room was thus admirably situated for people in our precariousposition, having a look-out back and front, and a way of escape right andleft.
The cherry-cheeked lass who had thrown me the kiss was tripping past thedoor as I opened it. She told me that she had been attending on ''erladyship,' and willingly led me to a bedroom and brought me thither thethings I needed for my sluicing, among them a passable razor and ahuckaback fit to fetch the hide off a horse.
"Give me now the kiss you threw me," said I, as she was turning to leave.
"Nay, sir," she said. "You're not in trouble now, and dunna need it."
"Lassie," said I, "that's a right womanly reply, and here's something tobuy a ribbon with that shall be worthy of you." And I gave her one of thedead Major's guineas.
"Thank yer, sir," she said. "And besides there's no need for you to bekissing the likes of me."
"You're a sweetly pretty lassie," said I.
"Y' dunna want to be gawpin' around after pennies when there's guineas tobe picked up," she replied, with a toss of her head. "Struth, I wish attimes I wasna quite so pretty. There's some men, bless you, I know onemyself, such fools that they think a pretty wench doesna want kissin'.But, sartin sure, there's never been the like of 'er ladyship in Newcastlein my time. I'll 'ave a ribbon on Sunday as near the colour and shine of'er ladyship's hair as money can buy, and Sail'll wish 'er'd never beenborn. I'll Sim 'er."
With this terrible threat she flounced out of the room, and I laughed andwondered who and what 'Sim' was. A decent fellow and a good tradesman, Ihoped, and wished him pluck and luck.
While I was tidying myself up, my mind was busy with the strange tanglethings were got into. The mysterious Master Freake, after turning theMayor into his pliant tool, had apparently disappeared. The Colonel hadnot breathed a word of explanation, and seemed to feel so secure that hewas dawdling in the town as if no enemy were at hand. Of the state ofaffairs in the town itself I knew nothing. The one clear thing was that Ihad got my neck right into the noose, and Brocton could, and would, pulltight at the first opportunity. What did all this matter? What did anyuntoward event or result matter? I was going to be a soldier, and, afterthe fashion of love-lorn Cherry-Cheeks, I said to myself, "I'll Jack him!"I was going to be near Margaret, and, so rejoicing, bethought me of thehapless Roman's "_Infelix, properas ultima nosse mala._" And what didthat matter either? I rubbed myself the colour of a love-apple, hummingthe while old-time ditties long since driven out of my head by the Latinrubbish. Jack was right. Of course it was rubbish. "Latin be damned," saidI gleefully. "Nothing counts but life and love."
There was more than a pinch of swagger in me as I made my way back to thepassage overlooking the yard. Arrived there, I cautiously opened thenearest lattice and peered out. The inn-yard was dark and silent, and Iwas on the point of closing the window when I heard the clatter of hoofson the stone-paving under the archway. A moment later a man on foot camein sight, and was followed into the yard by two men on horseback, one ofthem in charge of a led horse.
At once all was bustle. Ostlers ran up with lanterns, and the host cameforward, candle in hand and a multitude of words on his tongue, to orderthings aright.
The man afoot was Master Freake, and it was clear that the riders weremen of his, for I heard him ask them if they were quite clear as to theirinstructions, and both answered respectfully that they were. I could seethey wore swords and that their horses were splendid, powerful animals,not much inferior to Sultan himself. Who and what was this man--"plainJohn Freake," as he called himself,--who carried large sums of money,domineered over self-important burgesses and mayors, who was served bysuch well-appointed horsemen, whom Master Dobson, a
parliament man,feared, and my Lord Brocton had thought it worth while to attempt to putout of the way?
It was a riddle I could not read, but as I stood there, peering round thehalf-open lattice at the scene below, I was happier than ever I had beenin my life. "Poor old Jack," said I to myself, "sweating and swearing overyour riff-raff dragooners, and here am I, who envied you yester-morn, onthe top rung of life."
"We shall get it if we're late," said Mistress Margaret playfully in myear. "Not because dad worries whether he eats or not, but because he's sostrong on mil-it-ary dis-cip-line." I write the words so, as a poor, paperimitation of the mincing gait she could put into her speech, which wasever one of her delightfulnesses. "You'd have been the better," she wenton, "for a bringing-up on a troop-sergeant's switch. See what it's donefor me!"
So she challenged me to admire her, and indeed I think that the witch wasverily bent on casting a spell over me. No words can paint her as shestood in the dim-lit passage, the infinite sum of womanhood, peerless inevery grace and gift; not now the tense, proud Margaret of the quickrebuke and the shattering sarcasm, but the mirthful, trustful, gratefulcompanion of our boy-and-girl escapade.
"I think you're right, madam," said I. "Bloggs, dear old chap, floggedthe meaning of Virgil into me, but I wish he had flogged in some of themeaning of life along with it. I feel as helpless as Saul would have feltwith David's sling and stones."
"Are you as one fighting a Goliath?"
"I am," said I, not able now to speak lightly, and not daring to look ather. Could any enterprise be more hopeless than the one my heart, againstall the strivings of sense and reason, was beginning to set me? Throughthe open lattice I watched the flicker of lanterns in the yard, where thehorses were being upped and whoaed stablewards.
"You will favour me, sir, with your escort into supper," said Margaret.
This brought me to myself with a jerk. I closed the lattice, offered hermy arm, and we walked towards the guest-room where the Colonel wasawaiting us.
"I think you'd better revise your knowledge of the Scriptures, MasterOliver," said she very quietly as I led her into the room.
"In what respect, Mistress Margaret?"
"You seem to have an imperfect recollection of the way in which Goliathmet his death. It's idle to say we're late, dad, when supper's not yetserved."
He exploded into words I did not understand. "It's all right, onlyFrench," whispered Margaret mischievously. "It means 'name of a dog.' Icould swear better myself."
"That's right," stormed the Colonel. "As fast as I curse soldiering intoone ear of him, you coax it out of the other! I'll be thankful when you'reunder Mother Patterson's wing in Chester."
The coming of Cherry-Cheeks and one of the hard-favoured maids with thesupper, followed by our host with the wine, followed in turn by MasterFreake, put an end to my first lesson in soldiering and the imprecatorywealth of continental languages, and straightway the host slopped overwith apologies for the delay in serving the supper.
"Things are a bit upset in the town, y' mun know," he said, "and everywench in the 'Rising Sun' 'as been a devil unknobbed all day. Thisred-faced hussy here, when 'er was wanted to set the table, was off to seeif that spindle-shanked Sim across at the Mayor's was safe and sound. Andbesides, my lady and y'r 'onours, the famous steak-and-kidney puddin' o'the 'Rising Sun' must be boiled to a bubble or it's dummacked. If one gotspiled, the news 'ud run down to Chester and up to London in no time, andthe 'Red Lion' 'ud get all my customers. His Grace of Kingston put up atthe 'Red Lion' in all innocence until his worship, for old friendship'ssake and a bottle of brandy, 'ticed 'im over 'ere to one of my puddin's.'E started an inch off the table and ate till 'e touched, as we say inStaffordsheer, and then sent for 'is baggage, and 'as lain 'ere ever sincein the great bedchamber over y'r yeds, an' I'm thinking to call it theDuke's Room an' charge sixpence extra for it. It's worth another sixpenceto sleep in the same bed as a duke's slep' in. If it ain't, by gom, I'dlike to know what he is for. Damn if y'r can tell by lukkin' at 'im."
What I have for convenience' sake set down here as a continuous speechaddressed to us all, was really a series of remarks addressed to whicheverof us appeared for the moment to be listening, and broken by commands,scoldings, and threats addressed to the women. The tail-end of his remarksmade me cock my ear, for it indicated that we were at the centre of thedanger zone.
"If I were you," interposed Master Freake at last, "I'd coax PrinceCharlie to sleep in it and then charge a shilling extra. A prince, and mydislike of his ways doesn't unprince him, is surely worth twice as much asa duke."
"Swelp me bob," cried the delighted host, slapping his thigh in highglee, "that 'ud be better than a murder. It's wunnerful how a murder 'elpsa 'ouse. Tek the 'Quiet Woman' o' Madeley. There was a murder there, and adamn poor thing of a murder it was, nothing but a fudge-mounter cuttin' abesom-filer's throat; poor wench, 'er lived up on th' Higherland yonder,and I'll bet it was wuth two-and-twenty barrel of beer to owd Wat. Amurder's clean providential to a pub--"
"Damn, get out," vociferated the Colonel, "or I'll provide the murder andyou the corpse."
The meal, be it said, was thoroughly good in every way. I'm not the manto despise my belly, and I don't hold with those that do. There are betterthings in life than steak-and-kidney puddings, but my experience is theywant a lot of finding. The Colonel would not hear of any talk about ouraffairs till supper was over. "I dare say you're all agog to know whatI've been doing and what we are going to do," he said to me. "That'sbecause you're a youngster at everything and a mere infant-in-arms atsoldiering. When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that theonly things really worth bothering about are supper and bed."
To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argumentwith Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if Iremember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a raretreat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty.
At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with amischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, butI prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them."
"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso."
"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips.
"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder."
She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radianceof her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're abrute."
"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel."
She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her handbeneath the hawthorns.
"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who wasright about the dog's life?"
"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly.
The host was rung for, his supper praised to his heart's content, thetable cleared, and a dish of tea ordered for Margaret. Bethinking me ofthe sergeant's tuck, which might be useful, I asked the host to bring itup, and he did so.
When we were again left to ourselves, the Colonel took the sword, andexamined it with his skilful eyes and practised hands.
"Somewhat heavy," said he, "but well balanced and well made, and of thetruest steel. Are you a swordsman, Master Wheatman?"
"I never had one in my hand in my life till to-day," was my reply.
"Gird him for the wars, Margaret," said he. "So much of the ancient rulesand customs of chivalry as can be observed in these mechanic days shall,by us at any rate, be observed. In strict law you ought to have spent anight in prayer and fasting, but your loyal service to Margaret is a goodequivalent. To labour is to pray, say the parsons, and, my lad, alwaysremember in your soldiering that a so-minded man can offer up a powerfulprayer between pull of trigger and flash of priming. Kneel, Oliver, and inGod's sight you shall be more truly knighted than any capering andchattering of German Geordie's can contrive."
And so, in the guest-room of the "R
ising Sun," I knelt to my sweetmistress, and, before God and in the presence of Christopher Waynflete,Colonel of Horse in the service of the King of Sweden, and John Freake,citizen of London, Margaret, gravely and serenely beautiful, touched myshoulder with the sword and then girded it upon me.
"Sirs," she said, addressing her father and Master Freake, "the accoladehas never been given to a worthier." Then, bending swiftly as a swallowdips in its flight over the meadows, she whispered emphatically in myears, "Yokel it no more!"