CHAPTER XV
HOW MR. JOHN BRIMBLECOMBE UNDERSTOOD THE NATURE OF AN OATH
"The Kynge of Spayn is a foul paynim, And lieveth on Mahound; And pity it were that lady fayre Should marry a heathen hound."
Kyng Estmere.
About six weeks after the duel, the miller at Stow had come up tothe great house in much tribulation, to borrow the bloodhounds. RoseSalterne had vanished in the night, no man knew whither.
Sir Richard was in Bideford: but the old steward took on himself to sendfor the keepers, and down went the serving-men to the mill with all theidle lads of the parish at their heels, thinking a maiden-hunt very goodsport; and of course taking a view of the case as favorable as possibleto Rose.
They reviled the miller and his wife roundly for hard-hearted oldheathens; and had no doubt that they had driven the poor maid to throwherself over cliff, or drown herself in the sea; while all the women ofStow, on the other hand, were of unanimous opinion that the hussy had"gone off" with some bad fellow; and that pride was sure to have a fall,and so forth.
The facts of the case were, that all Rose's trinkets were left behind,so that she had at least gone off honestly; and nothing seemed to bemissing, but some of her linen, which old Anthony the steward broadlyhinted was likely to be found in other people's boxes. The only tracewas a little footmark under her bedroom window. On that the bloodhoundwas laid (of course in leash), and after a premonitory whimper, liftedup his mighty voice, and started bell-mouthed through the garden gate,and up the lane, towing behind him the panting keeper, till they reachedthe downs above, and went straight away for Marslandmouth, where thewhole posse comitatus pulled up breathless at the door of Lucy Passmore.
Lucy, as perhaps I should have said before, was now a widow, and foundher widowhood not altogether contrary to her interest. Her augury abouther old man had been fulfilled; he had never returned since the night onwhich he put to sea with Eustace and the Jesuits.
*"Some natural tears she shed, but dried them soon"
as many of them, at least, as were not required for purposes ofbusiness; and then determined to prevent suspicion by a bold move; shestarted off to Stow, and told Lady Grenville a most pathetic tale: howher husband had gone out to pollock fishing, and never returned: but howshe had heard horsemen gallop past her window in the dead of night, andwas sure they must have been the Jesuits, and that they had carried offher old man by main force, and probably, after making use of hisservices, had killed and salted him down for provision on their voyageback to the Pope at Rome; after which she ended by entreating protectionagainst those "Popish skulkers up to Chapel," who were sworn to do her amischief; and by an appeal to Lady Grenville's sense of justice, as towhether the queen ought not to allow her a pension, for having had herheart's love turned into a sainted martyr by the hands of idolatroustraitors.
Lady Grenville (who had a great opinion of Lucy's medical skill, andalways sent for her if one of the children had a "housty," i. e. sorethroat) went forth and pleaded the case before Sir Richard with sucheffect, that Lucy was on the whole better off than ever for the next twoor three years. But now--what had she to do with Rose's disappearance?and, indeed, where was she herself? Her door was fast; and round it herflock of goats stood, crying in vain for her to come and milk them;while from the down above, her donkeys, wandering at their own sweetwill, answered the bay of the bloodhound with a burst of harmony.
"They'm laughing at us, keper, they neddies; sure enough, we'm lost ourlabor here."
But the bloodhound, after working about the door a while, turned downthe glen, and never stopped till he reached the margin of the sea.
"They'm taken water. Let's go back, and rout out the old witch'shouse."
"'Tis just like that old Lucy, to lock a poor maid into shame."
And returning, they attacked the cottage, and by a general plebiscitum,ransacked the little dwelling, partly in indignation, and partly, if thetruth be told, in the hope of plunder; but plunder there was none. Lucyhad decamped with all her movable wealth, saving the huge black catamong the embers, who at the sight of the bloodhound vanished up thechimney (some said with a strong smell of brimstone), and being viewedoutside, was chased into the woods, where she lived, I doubt not, manyhappy years, a scourge to all the rabbits of the glen.
The goats and donkeys were driven off up to Stow; and the mob returned,a little ashamed of themselves when their brief wrath was past; and alittle afraid, too, of what Sir Richard might say.
He, when he returned, sold the donkeys and goats, and gave the money tothe poor, promising to refund the same, if Lucy returned and gaveherself up to justice. But Lucy did not return; and her cottage, fromwhich the neighbors shrank as from a haunted place, remained as she hadleft it, and crumbled slowly down to four fern-covered walls, past whichthe little stream went murmuring on from pool to pool--the only voice,for many a year to come, which broke the silence of that lonely glen.
A few days afterwards, Sir Richard, on his way from Bideford to Stow,looked in at Clovelly Court, and mentioned, with a "by the by," newswhich made Will Cary leap from his seat almost to the ceiling. What itwas we know already.
"And there is no clue?" asked old Cary; for his son was speechless.
"Only this; I hear that some fellow prowling about the cliffs that nightsaw a pinnace running for Lundy."
Will rose, and went hastily out of the room.
In half an hour he and three or four armed servants were on board atrawling-skiff, and away to Lundy. He did not return for three days,and then brought news: that an elderly man, seemingly a foreigner, hadbeen lodging for some months past in a part of the ruined MorescoCastle, which was tenanted by one John Braund; that a few weeks since ayounger man, a foreigner also, had joined him from on board a ship: theship a Flushinger, or Easterling of some sort. The ship came and wentmore than once; and the young man in her. A few days since, a lady andher maid, a stout woman, came with him up to the castle, and talked withthe elder man a long while in secret; abode there all night; and thenall three sailed in the morning. The fishermen on the beach had heardthe young man call the other father. He was a very still man, much as amass-priest might be. More they did not know, or did not choose toknow.
Whereon old Cary and Sir Richard sent Will on a second trip with theparish constable of Hartland (in which huge parish, for its sins, issituate the Isle of Lundy, ten miles out at sea); who returned with thebody of the hapless John Braund, farmer, fisherman, smuggler, etc.;which worthy, after much fruitless examination (wherein examinate wasafflicted with extreme deafness and loss of memory), departed to Exetergaol, on a charge of "harboring priests, Jesuits, gipsies, and othersuspect and traitorous persons."
Poor John Braund, whose motive for entertaining the said ugly customershad probably been not treason, but a wife, seven children, and arrearsof rent, did not thrive under the change from the pure air of Lundy tothe pestiferous one of Exeter gaol, made infamous, but two years after(if I recollect right), by a "black assizes," nearly as fatal as thatmore notorious one at Oxford; for in it, "whether by the stench of theprisoners, or by a stream of foul air," judge, jury, counsel, andbystanders, numbering among them many members of the best families inDevon, sickened in court, and died miserably within a few days.
John Braund, then, took the gaol-fever in a week, and died raving inthat noisome den: his secret, if he had one, perished with him, andnothing but vague suspicion was left as to Rose Salterne's fate. Thatshe had gone off with the Spaniard, few doubted; but whither, and inwhat character? On that last subject, be sure, no mercy was shown toher by many a Bideford dame, who had hated the poor girl simply for herbeauty; and by many a country lady, who had "always expected that thegirl would be brought to ruin by the absurd notice, beyond what herstation had a right to, which was taken of her," while every youngmaiden aspired to fill the throne which Rose had abdicated. So that, onthe whole, Bideford considered itself as going on as well without poorRos
e as it had done with her, or even better. And though she lingeredin some hearts still as a fair dream, the business and the bustle ofeach day soon swept that dream away, and her place knew her no more.
And Will Cary?
He was for a while like a man distracted. He heaped himself with allmanner of superfluous reproaches, for having (as he said) first broughtthe Rose into disgrace, and then driven her into the arms of theSpaniard; while St. Leger, who was a sensible man enough, tried in vainto persuade him that the fault was not his at all; that the two musthave been attached to each other long before the quarrel; that it musthave ended so, sooner or later; that old Salterne's harshness, ratherthan Cary's wrath, had hastened the catastrophe; and finally, that theRose and her fortunes were, now that she had eloped with a Spaniard, notworth troubling their heads about. Poor Will would not be so comforted.He wrote off to Frank at Whitehall, telling him the whole truth, callinghimself all fools and villains, and entreating Frank's forgiveness; towhich he received an answer, in which Frank said that Will had no reasonto accuse himself; that these strange attachments were due to asynastria, or sympathy of the stars, which ruled the destinies of eachperson, to fight against which was to fight against the heavensthemselves; that he, as a brother of the Rose, was bound to believe,nay, to assert at the sword's point if need were, that the incomparableRose of Torridge could make none but a worthy and virtuous choice; andthat to the man whom she had honored by her affection was due on theirpart, Spaniard and Papist though he might be, all friendship, worship,and loyal faith for evermore.
And honest Will took it all for gospel, little dreaming what agony ofdespair, what fearful suspicions, what bitter prayers, this letter hadcost to the gentle heart of Francis Leigh.
He showed the letter triumphantly to St. Leger; and he was quite wiseenough to gainsay no word of it, at least aloud; but quite wise enough,also, to believe in secret that Frank looked on the matter in quite adifferent light; however, he contented himself with saying:
"The man is an angel as his mother is!" and there the matter dropped fora few days, till one came forward who had no mind to let it drop, andthat was Jack Brimblecombe, now curate of Hartland town, and "passingrich on forty pounds a year.
"I hope no offence, Mr. William; but when are you and the rest goingafter--after her?" The name stuck in his throat.
Cary was taken aback.
"What's that to thee, Catiline the blood-drinker?" asked he, trying tolaugh it off.
"What? Don't laugh at me, sir, for it's no laughing matter. I drankthat night naught worse, I expect, than red wine. Whatever it was, weswore our oaths, Mr. Cary; and oaths are oaths, say I."
"Of course, Jack, of course; but to go to look for her--and when we'vefound her, cut her lover's throat. Absurd, Jack, even if she were worthlooking for, or his throat worth cutting. Tut, tut, tut--"
But Jack looked steadfastly in his face, and after some silence:
How far is it to the Caracas, then, sir?"
"What is that to thee, man?"
"Why, he was made governor thereof, I hear; so that would be the placeto find her?"
"You don't mean to go thither to seek her?" shouted Cary, forcing alaugh.
"That depends on whether I can go, sir; but if I can scrape the moneytogether, or get a berth on board some ship, why, God's will must bedone."
Will looked at him, to see if he had been drinking, or gone mad; but thelittle pigs' eyes were both sane and sober.
Will knew no answer. To laugh at the poor fellow was easy enough; todeny that he was right, that he was a hero and cavalier, outdoingromance itself in faithfulness, not so easy; and Cary, in the firstimpulse, wished him at the bottom of the bay for shaming him. Ofcourse, his own plan of letting ill alone was the rational, prudent,irreproachable plan, and just what any gentleman in his senses wouldhave done; but here was a vulgar, fat curate, out of his senses,determined not to let ill alone, but to do something, as Cary felt inhis heart, of a far diviner stamp.
"Well," said Jack, in his stupid steadfast way, "it's a very badlook-out; but mother's pretty well off, if father dies, and the maidensare stout wenches enough, and will make tidy servants, please the Lord.And you'll see that they come to no harm, Mr. William, for oldacquaintance' sake, if I never come back."
Cary was silent with amazement.
"And, Mr. William, you know me for an honest man, I hope. Will you lendme a five pound, and take my books in pawn for them, just to help meout?"
"Are you mad, or in a dream? You will never find her!"
"That's no reason why I shouldn't do my duty in looking for her, Mr.William."
"But, my good fellow, even if you get to the Indies, you will be claptinto the Inquisition, and burnt alive, as sure as your name is Jack."
"I know that," said he, in a doleful tone; "and a sore struggle of theflesh I have had about it; for I am a great coward, Mr. William, a dirtycoward, and always was, as you know: but maybe the Lord will take careof me, as He does of little children and drunken men; and if not, Mr.Will, I'd sooner burn, and have it over, than go on this way any longer,I would!" and Jack burst out blubbering.
"What way, my dear old lad?" said Will, softened as he well might be.
"Why, not--not to know whether--whether--whether she's married to him ornot--her that I looked up to as an angel of God, as pure as the light ofday; and knew she was too good for a poor pot-head like me; and prayedfor her every night, God knows, that she might marry a king, if therewas one fit for her--and I not to know whether she's living in sin ornot, Mr. William.--It's more than I can bear, and there's an end of it.And if she is married to him they keep no faith with heretics; they candissolve the marriage, or make away with her into the Inquisition; burnher, Mr. Cary, as soon as burn me, the devils incarnate!"
Cary shuddered; the fact, true and palpable as it was, had never struckhim before.
"Yes! or make her deny her God by torments, if she hasn't done italready for love to that--I know how love will make a body sell hissoul, for I've been in love. Don't you laugh at me, Mr. Will, or Ishall go mad!"
"God knows, I was never less inclined to laugh at you in my life, mybrave old Jack."
"Is it so, then? Bless you for that word!" and Jack held out his hand."But what will become of my soul, after my oath, if I don't seek herout, just to speak to her, to warn her, for God's sake, even if it didno good; just to set before her the Lord's curse on idolatry andAntichrist, and those who deny Him for the sake of any creature, thoughI can't think he would be hard on her,--for who could? But I must speakall the same. The Lord has laid the burden on me, and done it must be.God help me!"
"Jack," said Cary, "if this is your duty, it is others'."
"No, sir, I don't say that; you're a layman, but I am a deacon, and thechaplain of you all, and sworn to seek out Christ's sheep scattered upand down this naughty world, and that innocent lamb first of all."
"You have sheep at Hartland, Jack, already."
"There's plenty better than I will tend them, when I am gone; but nonethat will tend her, because none love her like me, and they won'tventure. Who will? It can't be expected, and no shame to them?"
"I wonder what Amyas Leigh would say to all this, if he were at home?"
"Say? He'd do. He isn't one for talking. He'd go through fire andwater for her, you trust him, Will Cary; and call me an ass if hewon't."
"Will you wait, then, till he comes back, and ask him?"
"He may not be back for a year and more."
"Hear reason, Jack. If you will wait like a rational and patient man,instead of rushing blindfold on your ruin, something may be done."
"You think so!"
"I cannot promise; but--"
"But promise me one thing. Do you tell Mr. Frank what I say--or rather,I'll warrant, if I knew the truth, he has said the very same thinghimself already."
"You are out there, old man; for here is his own handwriting."
Jack read the letter and sighed bitterly. "Well, I d
id take him foranother guess sort of fine gentleman. Still, if my duty isn't his, it'smine all the same. I judge no man; but I go, Mr. Cary."
"But go you shall not till Amyas returns. As I live, I will tell yourfather, Jack, unless you promise; and you dare not disobey him."
"I don't know even that, for conscience' sake," said Jack, doubtfully.
"At least, you stay and dine here, old fellow, and we will settlewhether you are to break the fifth commandment or not, over good brewedsack."
Now a good dinner was (as we know) what Jack loved, and loved too oft invain; so he submitted for the nonce, and Cary thought, ere he went, thathe had talked him pretty well round. At least he went home, and wasseen no more for a week.
But at the end of that time he returned, and said with a joyful voice--
"I have settled all, Mr. Will. The parson of Welcombe will serve mychurch for two Sundays, and I am away for London town, to speak to Mr.Frank."
"To London? How wilt get there?"
"On Shanks his mare," said Jack, pointing to his bandy legs. "But Iexpect I can get a lift on board of a coaster so far as Bristol, andit's no way on to signify, I hear."
Cary tried in vain to dissuade him; and then forced on him a small loan,with which away went Jack, and Cary heard no more of him for threeweeks.
At last he walked into Clovelly Court again just before supper-time,thin and leg-weary, and sat himself down among the serving-men till Willappeared.
Will took him up above the salt, and made much of him (which indeed thehonest fellow much needed), and after supper asked him in private how hehad sped.
"I have learnt a lesson, Mr. William. I've learnt that there is one onearth loves her better than I, if she had but had the wit to have takenhim."
"But what says he of going to seek her?"
"He says what I say, Go! and he says what you say, Wait."
"Go? Impossible! How can that agree with his letter?"
"That's no concern of mine. Of course, being nearer heaven than I am,he sees clearer what he should say and do than I can see for him. Oh,Mr. Will, that's not a man, he's an angel of God; but he's dying, Mr.Will."
"Dying?"
"Yes, faith, of love for her. I can see it in his eyes, and hear it inhis voice; but I am of tougher hide and stiffer clay, and so you see Ican't die even if I tried. But I'll obey my betters, and wait."
And so Jack went home to his parish that very evening, weary as he was,in spite of all entreaties to pass the night at Clovelly. But he hadleft behind him thoughts in Cary's mind, which gave their owner no restby day or night, till the touch of a seeming accident made them allstart suddenly into shape, as a touch of the freezing water covers it inan instant with crystals of ice.
He was lounging (so he told Amyas) one murky day on Bideford quay, whenup came Mr. Salterne. Cary had shunned him of late, partly fromdelicacy, partly from dislike of his supposed hard-heartedness. Butthis time they happened to meet full; and Cary could not pass withoutspeaking to him.
"Well, Mr. Salterne, and how goes on the shipping trade?"
"Well enough, sir, if some of you young gentlemen would but follow Mr.Leigh's example, and go forth to find us stay-at-homes new markets forour ware."
"What? you want to be rid of us, eh?"
"I don't know why I should, sir. We sha'n't cross each other now, sir,whatever might have been once. But if I were you, I should be in theIndies about now, if I were not fighting the queen's battles nearerhome."
"In the Indies? I should make but a poor hand of Drake's trade." And sothe conversation dropped; but Cary did not forget the hint.
"So, lad, to make an end of a long story," said he to Amyas; "if you areminded to take the old man's offer, so am I: and Westward-ho with you,come foul come fair."
"It will be but a wild-goose chase, Will."
"If she is with him, we shall find her at La Guayra. If she is not, andthe villain has cast her off down the wind, that will be only anadditional reason for making an example of him."
"And if neither of them are there, Will, the Plate-fleets will be; so itwill be our own shame if we come home empty-handed. But will yourfather let you run such a risk?"
"My father!" said Cary, laughing. "He has just now so good hope of along string of little Carys to fill my place, that he will be in no lackof an heir, come what will."
"Little Carys?"
"I tell you truth. I think he must have had a sly sup of that fountainof perpetual youth, which our friend Don Guzman's grandfather went toseek in Florida; for some twelvemonth since, he must needs marry atenant's buxom daughter; and Mistress Abishag Jewell has brought him onefat baby already. So I shall go, back to Ireland, or with you: butsomewhere. I can't abide the thing's squalling, any more than I canseeing Mistress Abishag sitting in my poor dear mother's place, andinforming me every other day that she is come of an illustrious house,because she is (or is not) third cousin seven times removed to myfather's old friend, Bishop Jewell of glorious memory. I hadthree-parts of a quarrel with the dear old man the other day; for afterone of her peacock-bouts, I couldn't for the life of me help saying,that as the Bishop had written an Apology for the people of England, myfather had better conjure up his ghost to write an apology for him, andhead it, 'Why green heads should grow on gray shoulders.'"
"You impudent villain! And what did he say?"
Laughed till he cried again, and told me if I did not like it I mightleave it; which is just what I intend to do. Only mind, if we go, wemust needs take Jack Brimblecombe with us, or he will surely heavehimself over Harty Point, and his ghost will haunt us to our dying day."
"Jack shall go. None deserves it better."
After which there was a long consultation on practical matters, and itwas concluded that Amyas should go up to London and sound Frank and hismother before any further steps were taken. The other brethren of theRose were scattered far and wide, each at his post, and St. Leger hadreturned to his uncle, so that it would be unfair to them, as well as aconsiderable delay, to demand of them any fulfilment of their vow.And, as Amyas sagely remarked, "Too many cooks spoil the broth, andhalf-a-dozen gentlemen aboard one ship are as bad as two kings ofBrentford."
With which maxim he departed next morning for London, leaving Yeo withCary.