The White Gauntlet Part 24

And the ex-footpad uttering an emphatic phrase, as if more fixedly to clinch his determination, struck his right hand forcibly against his ribs--his huge chest giving out a hollow sound--as though it had received the blow of a trip-hammer.

"Gregory Garth," said the cavalier speaking in a serious tone, "if you would have me believe in the sincerity of your conversion, you must answer me one question, and answer it without evasion. I do not ask it either out of idle curiosity, or with any wish to use the answer, whatever it be, to your prejudice. You know me, Gregory; and you will not deceive me?"

"Trust me for that, Master Henry--niver, niver! Ask your question.

Whatsomever it be, I'll gie ye a true answer."

"Answer it, only if ye can say, Yes. If your answer must be in the negative, I don't want to hear it. Your silence will be sufficient."

"Put it, Master Henry; put it: I aint afeerd." The cavalier bent forward, and whispered the interrogatory:--

"Is your hand clear of--_murder_?" "O Lord!" exclaimed the footpad, starting back with some show of horror, and a glance half reproachful.

"O lor, Master Henry! Could you a suspeecioned me o' such a thing?

Murder--no--no--never! I can swar to ye, I never thort o' doin' such a thing; and my hands are clear o' blood as them o' the infant in its kreddle. I've been wicked enough 'ithout that. I've robbed as ye know--war a' goin' to rob yourself an' yer friend--"

"Stay, Garth! what would you have done, had I not recognised you?"

"Run, Master Henry! run like the old Nick! I'd a tuk to my heels the next minnit, after I see'd ye war in earnest; and if yer pistol hadn't a put a stop to me, I'd a left my comrades to yer mercy. Oh! Master Henry; there aint many travellers as would have behaved like you. It be the first time I ever had to do more than threeten, an' bl.u.s.ter a bit; an' that war all I intended wi' you an' yer friend."

"Enough, Gregory!" said the cavalier, apparently satisfied that his old henchman had never shed innocent blood.

"And now," continued he, "I hope you will never have even _threatening_ to reproach yourself with in the future--at least so far as travellers are concerned. Perhaps ere long I may find you adversaries more worthy of your redoubtable pike. Meanwhile, make yourself comfortable here, till the morning. When my attendant returns from the stable, he will see to getting you some supper, and a better bed than you've just been roused from."

"Oh! Master Henry!" cried Garth, seeing that Holtspur was about to retire. "Doant go! please doant, till you've read what's inside that ere dokyment. It consarns weighty matters, Master Henry; an' I'm sure it must be you among others as is spoken o' in it."

"Concerns me, you think? Is my name mentioned in it?"

"No, not your name; but thar's some orders about somebody; and from what I know o' ye myself, I had a suspeecion, as soon as I read it,--it mout be you."

"Gregory," said the cavalier, drawing nearer to his old servant, and speaking in a tone that betrayed some anxiety as to the effect of his words, "What you know of me, and mine, keep to yourself. Not a word to any one of my past history, as you expect secrecy for your own. Here my real name is not known. That I go by just now is a.s.sumed for a time, and a purpose. Soon I shall not care who knows the other; but not yet, Gregory, not yet. Remember that!"

"I will, Master Henry."

"I shall read this despatch, then," continued the cavalier, "since you say that it contains something that may interest me; and, especially, since I do not commit the indiscretion of breaking it open. Ha! ha!

Your imprudence, worthy Garth, will save my conscience the reproach of that."

With a smile playing upon his countenance, the cavalier spread out the despatch; and, holding it down to the light of the blazing logs, soon made himself master of its contents.

Volume One, Chapter XXIII.

The purport of the King's missive to Scarthe did not appear to take Henry Holtspur much by surprise. His bearing betokened, that part of what it contained was known to him already; and the other part he might have been expecting. Enough, however, appeared, in his manner, to convince Gregory Garth, that he had given no offence to his old master in having stripped the courier of his despatch.

Whilst Holtspur was still pouring over the paper, the Indian youth entered; and after standing a moment or two in solemn silence--as if to see whether he was required for any particular purpose--he took a lamp from the table. Having alighted it at the blaze of the fire, he again withdrew. He departed as silently as he had entered; leaving Gregory Garth gaping in true Saxon astonishment, and wondering what part of the world had given birth to this wordless foreigner!

The cavalier after reading the despatch folded it up; and deposited it under the breast of his doublet, as something to be carefully kept.

Then turning to the ex-footpad, and pointing significantly to some viands that appeared upon the shelf, he strode out into the corridor, and took his way towards the library--into which Oriole, with the lamp, had already preceded him.

This was a large room, plainly and somewhat scantily furnished. An oaken table stood in the centre, with some chairs of like construction, set scatteringly around the sides. Against the walls were suspended a number of paintings--their subjects scarce distinguishable under an envelope of long neglected dust. Here and there stood bookcases, their shelves close-packed with huge antique tomes, equally the victims of long neglect. Other objects, lying negligently around, appeared to have seen more recent service. There were arms, accoutrements, riding gear, travelling valises, and such like paraphernalia--placed _sans facon_ on chairs, tables, or the floor, and giving evidence that the house was tenanted by one who contemplated only a temporary sojourn.

There was no one in the room as the cavalier entered it. The Indian, after depositing his lamp on the table, had gone out again; and was now seen standing on the stoup of the front entrance--silent and statue-like, as at the moment of his master's return.

"So, so," muttered the cavalier, seating himself by the table, and once more perusing the despatch. "Scarthe sent down to recruit! And for what purpose? Not for a new campaign against the Scots? I think his Majesty has had enough of that enemy. There's another may soon claim his attention--nearer home. Perhaps he is growing suspicious; and this may explain his instructions to the cuira.s.sier captain. Well, let him obey them, if he can. As to recruiting, I fancy I've been before him in that work. He'll not add many files to his troop in this county--if peasants' promises are worth relying upon. Hampden's persecution and popularity have secured Buckinghamshire for the good cause,--the yeomanry to a man; and as for the peasantry, I have got _them_ into the right way of thinking. The gentry, one after another, come round to us.

This day has decided Sir Marmaduke Wade; converting him from a pa.s.sive spectator to an active partisan--conspirator, if the name rings better.

Ah! Sir Marmaduke! henceforth I shall love you, almost as much as I love your daughter. No, no, no! That is a love which pa.s.ses all comparison; for which I would sacrifice everything upon earth--ay, _even the cause_!

"No one hears me: I am speaking to my own heart. It is idle to attempt deluding it. I may disguise my love from the world, but not from myself--no, nor from _her_. She must know it ere this? She must have read it in my looks and actions? Not an hour pa.s.ses that she is not in my mind,--not a minute. Even in my dreams do I behold her image--as palpably before me, as if she were present--that glorious image of feminine grace, crowned with red roses and yellow gold!

"Can it be an illusion? Could it have been _all accident_? Have these encounters been fortuitous--on my side only designed? And the last and dearest of all,--when was suffered to fall to the ground that snow-white souvenir, I have pinned so proudly to my beaver--tell me, ye spirits who preside over the destinies of Love--say that I am not the victim of a fancy false, as it would be fatal to my happiness!

"I saw her--I spoke to her--I dared not ask herself. Though yearning for the truth--as the soul yearns for a knowledge of _hereafter_--I dared not trust myself to demand it. I dreaded the answer, as one building castles in the air, may dread the tempest that in an instant may destroy them.

"O G.o.d! I feel, that if this structure be destroyed--this last love of my life--I shall perish amid the ruins!"

The cavalier paused, a deep sigh causing his bosom to heave upward--as if in terror at the contemplation of such a contingency.

After a moment he resumed the thread of his reflections.

"She must have seen her glove so conspicuously placed? She could not fail to recognise it? She could not mistake the motive of my wearing it? If, after all, _her_ act was not intentional--if the gauntlet was really _lost_--then am _I_ lost. I shall pa.s.s in her eyes as an impertinent--a presumptive trickster. Instead of her love I shall be the object of her contempt--not pitied, but scorned! Even Scarthe, despite his defeat, will be thought worthier than I!

"I am mad to think of her! More than mad to hope she should think of me! Worse than wicked to wish it. Even if she _should_ love me, how can it end? _Only in her undoing_! Heaven keep me from the crime!

"As Heaven is my judge, I have endeavoured to avoid it. I have tried _not_ to love her; at times wished she should not love me. This was at first; but alas! no longer can I resist the sweet fascination. My heart has leaped beyond my control; and both soul and body must now obey its inclinings. Without the love of Marion Wade, I care not how soon my life may come to an end--not much either in what way--an ignominious gallows, or an honoured grave.

"Sir Marmaduke I must speak to in person. Even a letter might not now reach him. 'Tis monstrous this act of his _Gracious Majesty_!" The cavalier p.r.o.nounced the last words with a scornful emphasis.

"Monstrous, as on the King's part, stupidly foolish. It cannot fail to effect good service for our side; and I should rejoice were it any other than Sir Marmaduke. But, to think of this man, in his house--Richard Scarthe--the wily courtier--the notorious profligate--under the same roof with Marion Wade--in the same room--seated by the same table--in her presence at all hours, by night as by day--wielding that dangerous power that springs from an att.i.tude of authority. O Heavens!"

The painful thoughts which this train of reasoning produced, caused the cavalier to start to his feet, and rapidly pace the room--in hope of allaying his agitation.

"Will Sir Marmaduke remain at Bulstrode?" he continued, after a time.

"He cannot help himself? To go elsewhere would only bring down upon him the wrath of this queen-ridden tyrant--perhaps subject him to some still more severe infliction? But will he keep his family there--exposed among the swaggering soldiery--perhaps to be insulted--perhaps--?

"Surely he will send them away--somewhere, anywhere until a better time?

Thank Heaven, there is hope of a better! I shall see Sir Marmaduke to-morrow. I promised him I should. With _her_, too, shall I seek an interview; although it may end in giving me chagrin--even if it should be the last."

Having muttered this somewhat reckless resolve, the cavalier once more threw himself into a chair; and with his elbows resting upon the table, and the palms of his hands crossed over his forehead, he seemed to give way to some profound and painful reflection.

Whatever it was, he was not allowed long to indulge in it. The entrance of Oriole would scarce have aroused him from his reverie--for the moca.s.sined foot of the Indian made no sound upon the floor--but at the same instant a noise of another kind was heard within the apartment--the grinding of a horse's hoof on the gravel scattered outside the entrance door.

Oriole, after entering, had stopped in an att.i.tude that told he had something to communicate.

"What is it, Oriole? Another visitor?"

The Indian nodded in the affirmative.

"On horseback? I need not ask: I hear the tread of his horse. A stranger?"

With the same pantomime, as he had used when interrogated before, the Indian made reply--adding also, by a repet.i.tion of his former signs, that the visitor had come from a distance.