The Lady of Loyalty House Part 9

"Drink, gentles," she summoned. "Drink 'The King!'"

All the Cavaliers shouted the loyal toast so that the words "The King!" seemed to ring in every nook of the great hall; then every Cavalier drained his gla.s.s.

"Ah," sighed Lord Fawley, as he set down his empty vessel, "I could drink the King's health forever."

"I swear it would sweeten sour ale," Bardon declared.

Young Ingrow took him up. "When it floats on such n.o.ble tipple I am a G.o.d-swilling nectar." Halfman slapped his chest.

"Come, lads!" he cried; "when Cavaliers drink the King's health they should sing the King's song," and in another moment his mellow voice was setting his friends a st.u.r.dy example. "Gallants of England," he warbled:

"Gallants of England, shall not the King land Safely in town to knock Parliament down?

Shall we not ever strive to endeavor Glory to win for our King and our crown?

Shall not the Roundhead soon be confounded?

Sa, sa, sa, sa, boys, ha, ha, ha, ha, boys, Then we'll return home in triumph and joy.

Then we'll be merry, drink sack and sherry, And we will sing, boys, G.o.d save the King, boys, Cast up our hats, and sing Vive le Roy."

XI

AT BAY

Brilliana and the Cavaliers, stirred by the enthusiasm of Halfman's stanza, caught up the cry commanded and sent it rolling through the hall.

"Vive le Roy! G.o.d bless the King!" they shouted, with the loyal tears in their eyes. Brilliana gave Halfman a grateful smile.

"Well sung, well done," she approved. Halfman glowed. Sir Rufus frowned a little. Turning hurriedly to his companions, he said:

"Friends, I have another toast for you. I give you the King's sweet warrior, Oxfordshire's blithe viceroy, 'The Lady of Loyalty House.'"

"Never a better toast in the world," Halfman shouted. "Drink, gallants, drink."

Brilliana crossed her fingers before her face. Through the living lattice her eyes peeped brightly.

"I protest you make too much of me," she pleaded, while Halfman and the Cavaliers quickly filled their gla.s.ses again and lifted them high in air. A chorus of "The Lady of Loyalty House!" rang out, and again the toast was honored.

"I thank you with all my heart," Brilliana panted, blushing and excited at the tumult and the praise. There was a moment's silence.

Everything worth saying seemed to have been said, everything worth doing to have been done. Suddenly, in that silence, Bardon caught sight of Evander where he stood apart, disdainful, between his guards, and the sight p.r.i.c.ked his wits. Turning to his mates, he thumbed at the prisoner over his shoulder.

"Should we not make the crop-ear yonder pledge the Lady of Loyalty House?" he questioned. Radlett rubbed approving hands.

"Well thought. Let him honor his conqueror," he began. The Lord Fawley tripped him up with a new proposal.

"Stop, stop; not so fast," he protested. "The fellow has not pledged the King yet. Let him drink the King's health first and be d.a.m.ned to him."

The others applauded, but Ingrow, noting a certain sterner tightening of Evander's mouth, interrupted.

"I'll wager he will not drink," he said, looking maliciously from the flushed faces of the Cavaliers to the pale face of the Puritan.

Rufus's temper blazed instantly.

"Will not drink, say you!" he cried. "This mewcant shall pledge at our pleasure or taste our displeasure."

He strode to the table, filled a cup of wine, and set it down on the corner nearest to Evander.

"Come, you Roundpoll," he continued--"come, you Geneva mumbler, here is a cup for you to wash down the dust of your dry thoughts. Drink, I give you 'The King.'"

Evander gazed steadfastly at the irate gentleman and made no motion to take the wine. Brilliana, from where she stood, watching him curiously, wrestled with a reluctant admiration of his carriage.

Ingrow commented, smoothly, maliciously:

"You see, the gentleman does not drink."

Ingrow's words fanned the Cavalier fire.

"d.a.m.n him for a disloyal rat!" Radlett shouted. Halfman elbowed his way past him and addressed Rufus.

"Sweet Sir Rufus," he said, "I have lived in places where a little persuasion has often led folk to act much against their personal inclinations and desires. Out swords and force the toast."

As he spoke he drew his sword with his best Mercutio manner, and the suggestion and the naked steel carried contagion. Every gentleman unsheathed his sword; all advanced upon Evander, a line of shining points.

"Bait him, bait him!" Bardon shouted.

Ingrow shrilled, "Tickle him, p.r.i.c.k him, pink him till he drinks!"

Though Evander surveyed his enemies as composedly as if they had been children threatening him with pins, Brilliana knew that the spirit of mischief was alive and that the Cavaliers would not boggle at cruelty, six to one, for the sport of making a Parliament man honor the King against his will. She hated the man, but she would not have him so handled. Instantly she stepped between Evander and the Cavaliers, who fell back with lowered points before their hostess.

"Wait, sirs," she ordered, "let me see if my entreaties will not make the bear more gracious."

She took up the cup where Rufus had set it down, and, coming close to Evander, held the vessel to him with her sweetest smile, the smile which, she had been a.s.sured a thousand times, would tame a savage and shatter adamant. "Will you not pledge the best gentleman in England?"

she asked, with a voice all honey.

Very courteously Evander took the proffered cup from her fingers and gave her back her smile. Brilliana's heart thrilled with pleasure at this new proof of beauty's victory.

"I will drink at your wish," he said, looking at her with a quiet smile and speaking as if he and she were alone together in the great hall. "I will drink at your wish, but with my own wit." Still looking into the gratified eyes of Brilliana, he lifted the cup.

"I drink," he cried, loud and clear, "to the best man in England. I drink to Colonel Cromwell."

He drained the gla.s.s and sent it crashing into the fireplace. Then he folded his arms and faced his antagonists.

Brilliana's heart seemed for a second to stand still. So beauty had not triumphed, after all. Dimly, as one in a dream, she could hear the fury of the Cavaliers find words.

"You black Jack, I will clip your ears," Rufus promised.

"Blood him. Blood him," bawled Fawley.

"Slit his nose," Radlett suggested.