Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard Part 20

"Nut-brown ale!"

"The spirit that burns!"

"Bring us drink!" they cried in a breath.

"Will you have milk?" said Young Gerard.

At this the company burst into a roar of laughter. They laughed till they rocked. But when they were silent little Thea spoke. She said in a faint clear voice:

"I would like a cup of milk."

Young Gerard went into the hut and came out with his wooden cup filled with milk, and brought it to her, and she drank. None spoke or moved while she drank, but when she gave him the cup again one of the crew said chuckling, "Now she has drunk, now she's merrier. Try her again, Rough, try her on milk!"

Again the night reeled with their laughter. They surrounded the wedded pair crying, "Kiss her! kiss her! kiss her!" Then the Rough Master of Coates pulled her round to him, dark with anger, and tried to kiss her.

But she turned sharply in his arms, bending her head away. And despite his force, and though he was a man and she little more than a child, he could not make her mouth meet his. And the laughter of the guests rose higher, and infuriated him.

Then he who had spoken before said, "By Hymen, the bride should kiss something. If the lord's not good enough, let her kiss the churl!" At this the revelers, wild with delight, beat on their trenchers and shouted, "Ay, let her!"

And suddenly they surged in, parting Thea from the Rough; while some pulled him back others dragged Young Gerard forward, till he stood where the bridegroom had stood; and in that seething throng of mockery he felt her clinging helplessly to him, and his arm went round her.

"Kiss him! kiss him! kiss him!" cried the guests.

She looked up pitifully at him, and he bent his head. And she heard him whisper:

"My cherry-tree's in flower."

She whispered, "Yes."

And they kissed each other.

Then the tumult of laughter pa.s.sed all bounds, so that it was a wonder if it was not heard at Combe Ivy; and the guests clashed their trenchers one against another, and whirled their torches till the sparks flew, yelling, "The bride's kiss! Ha, ha! the bride's kiss!"

But the Rough Master of Coates had had enough; snarling like a mad dog he thrust his way through the crowd on one side, as Old Gerard, seeing his purpose, thrust through on the other, and both at the same instant fell on the boy, the one with his scabbard, the other with his staff.

"Kisses, will ye?" cried the Rough Master of Coates, "here's kisses for ye!"

"Ha, ha!" cried the guests, "more kisses, more kisses for him that kissed the bride!"

And then they all struck him at once, kicking and beating him without mercy, till he lay p.r.o.ne on the earth. When he had fallen, the Rough shouted, "Away to the Wildbrooks, away!"

And he seized Thea in his arms, and rushed along the brow of the hill, and all the company followed in a confusion, and were swallowed up in the night.

But Young Gerard raised himself a little, and groaned, "The Wildbrooks--are they going to the Wildbrooks?"

"Ay, and over the Wildbrooks," said Old Gerard.

"But they're in flood," gasped Young Gerard. "They'll never cross it in the spring floods."

"They'll manage it somehow. The Rough--did you see his eyes when you--?

ho, ho! he'll cross it somehow."

"He can't," the boy muttered. "The April tide's too strong. He will drown in the flood."

"And she," said Old Gerard.

"Perhaps she will swim on the flood," said Young Gerard faintly. And he sighed and sank back on the earth.

"Ay, you'll be sore," chuckled the old man. "You had your salve before you had your drubbing. Lie there. I must be gone on business."

He took up his staff and went down the hill for the last time to Combe Ivy, to purchase his freedom.

But Young Gerard lay with his face pressed to the turf. "And that was the bridegroom," he said, and shook where he lay.

"Young shepherd," said a voice beside him. He looked up and saw the hooded crone, come out of the hut. "Why do you water the earth?" said she. "Have not the rains done their work?"

"What work, dame?"

"You've as fine a cherry in flower," said she, "as ever blossomed in Gay Street in the season of singing and dancing."

"Singing and dancing!" he cried, his voice choking, and he sprang up despite his pains. "Don't speak to me, dame, of singing and dancing.

You're old, like the withered branch of a tree, but did you not see with your old eyes, and hear with your old ears? Did you not see her come up the green hillside with singing and dancing? Oh, yes, my cherry's in flower, like a crown for a bride, and the spring is all in movement, and the birds are all in song, and she--she came up the hillside with singing and dancing."

"I saw," said the crone, "and I heard. I'm not so old, young shepherd, that I do not remember the curse of youth."

"What's that?" he said moodily.

"To bear the soul of a master in the body of a slave," said she; "to be a flower in a sealed bud, the moon in a cloud, water locked in ice, Spring in the womb of the year, love that does not know itself."

"But when it does know?" said Young Gerard slowly.

"Oh, when it knows!" said she. "Then the flower of the fruit will leap through the bud, and the moon will leap like a lamb on the hills of the sky, and April will leap in the veins of the year, and the river will leap with the fury of Spring, and the headlong heart will cry in the body of youth, I will not be a slave, but I will be the lord of life, because--"

"Because?" said Young Gerard.

"Because I will!"

Young Gerard said nothing, and they sat together in a long silence in the darkness, and time went by filling the sky with stars.

Now as they sat the hilltop once more began to waver with shadows and voices, but this time the shadows came on heavy feet and weary, and the voices were forlorn. One feebly cried, "Hola!" And round the belt of trees straggled the rout that had left them an hour or so earlier. But now they were sodden and dejected, draggled and woebegone, as sorry a spectacle as so many drowned rats.

"Fire!" moaned one. "Fire! fire!"

"Who's burning?" said Young Gerard, and got quickly on his feet; but he did not see the two he looked for.

"None's burning, fool, but many are drowning. Do we not look like drowned men? How shall we ever get back to Combe Ivy, and warmth and drink and comforts? Would we were burning!"

"What has happened?" the boy demanded.

"We went in search of the ferry," he said, "but the ferry was drowned too."