The Lady of Loyalty House: A Novel Page 17

  XVI

  A PURITAN APPRAISED

  It did not remain solitary long. Unawares, the steps of Halfman andEvander had been dogged ever since they crossed the moat and set outon their pilgrimage through the gardens. Crouching behind hedges,lingering in coppices, peeping through thickets, two persistenttrackers had pursued the unconscious quarry. Scarcely had the shadowsof Evander and his companion vanished from the grasses of thepleasaunce than the pursuers emerged from the shelter of a yew screenand ran into the open, staring after the departing pair. Yet thesepursuers were no stealthy enemies, but merely creatures spurred by anirresistible curiosity. One was stout and red faced and inclined tobreathe hard after the fatigues of the chase. The other was slim andsmooth, with ripe cheeks and bright eyes, lodgings for the insolenceof youth. In a word, the hunters were Mistress Satchell and prettyTiffany, who had found their Puritan prisoner and visitor a being ofconsiderable interest.

  Mistress Satchell turned a damp, shining face and a questioning eyeupon Tiffany.

  "Is not he a dashing lad for a Puritan?" she gasped, patting herample chest with both hands as if to fondle her newly recoveredbreath. Tiffany, who was bearing her mistress's lute, shrugged andpouted.

  "I see little to like in him," she snapped. This was not at all true,but she was not going to admit as much to Mistress Satchell, or, forthat matter, to herself. Mistress Satchell snorted fiercely, like anoffended war-horse.

  "Because he has not clipped you round the waist, pinched you in thecheek, kissed you on the lips--such liberties as our rufflers use.But he is a man for my money."

  She spoke with vehemence. Pretty Tiffany made a dainty grimace as sheanswered:

  "I think I am pleasing enough to behold, yet he gave me no more thana glance when he gave me good-day."

  Mistress Satchell's ample bulk swayed with indignation.

  "He is a lad of taste, I tell you. Why should he waste his gaze onsuch small goods when there was nobler ware anigh? He smiled all overhis face when he greeted me."

  Tiffany was sorely tempted to smile all over her face as shelistened, but Mistress Satchell's temper was short and her arm long,so she kept her countenance as she answered, shortly:

  "He is little."

  This Mistress Satchell swiftly countered with the affirmation:

  "He is great."

  Tiffany thrust again.

  "He is naught."

  Again Dame Satchell parried.

  "He is much," she screamed, and her face was poppy-red with passion,but Tiffany, retreating warily and persistent to tease, was about tostart some fresh disclaimer of the Puritan's merits when she caughtsight through a yew arch vista of a gown of gold and gray, and hertongue faltered.

  "Our lady," she whispered to Mistress Satchell, who had barely timeto compose her ruffled countenance when Brilliana came through theyew arch and paused on the edge of the pleasaunce surveying thebelligerents with an amused smile.

  "What are you two brawling about?" she asked, as she moved slowlytowards the marble seat. Tiffany thrust in the first word.

  "Goody Satchell will vex me with praise of the Parliament man."

  By this time Brilliana had seated herself, observing her vehementshes with amusement. She turned a face of assumed gravity upon theelder.

  "So, so, Mistress Satchell, have you turned Roundhead all of asudden?"

  Mrs. Satchell shook her head at Brilliana and her fist at Tiffany.

  "Tiffany is a minx, but I am an honest woman; and as I am an honestwoman, there are honest qualities in this honest Puritan."

  Brilliana knew as much herself and fretted at the knowledge. It cutagainst the grain of her heart to admit that a rebel could have anyredemption by gifts. But she still questioned Mistress Satchellsmoothly, thinking the while of a man intrenched behind a table, oneman against six.

  "What are these marvels?" she asked.

  Mistress Satchell was voluble of collected encomiums.

  "Why, Thomas Coachman swears he is a master of horse-manage, and hehas taught Luke Gardener a new method of grafting roses, and SimonWarrener swears he knows as much of hawking as any man in Oxford orWarwick."

  She paused, out of breath. Brilliana, leaning forward with an air ofinfinite gravity, commented:

  "It were more to your point, surely, if the gentleman had skill incook-craft."

  Mistress Satchell was not to be outdone; she clapped her handstogether noisily and shrilled her triumph.

  "There, too, he meets you. After breakfast this morning, when I askedhim how he fared, he overpraised my table, and he gave me a recipefor grilling capons in the Spanish manner--well, you shall know, ifyou do but live long enough."

  The ruddy dame nodded significantly as she closed thus crypticallyher tables of praises. Brilliana uplifted her hands in a pretty airof wonder.

  "The phoenix," she sighed, "the paragon, the nonpareil of thebuttery." Instantly her smiling face grew grave.

  "Well, it is not for us to praise him or blame him while he is on ourhands. See that you give him good meals, Mistress Satchell."

  Dame Satchell stared at her mistress in some amazement.

  "Will he not dine in hall, my lady?"

  Brilliana frowned now in good earnest.

  "Lordamercy! do you think I would sit at meat with a rebel? Have Inot set him a room apart, to spare myself the sight of him? Serve himin his own rooms, but look you serve him well."

  Dame Satchell wagged her head with an air of the deepestsignificance.

  "I warrant you," she muttered, "he commended my soused cucumbers."

  And so nodding and chuckling she moved like a great galleon over thegreen, and soon was out of sight. The moment her broad back was wellturned, Tiffany permitted herself to utter the protests which hadbeen boiling within her.

  "To listen to Dame Satchell, one would think that no man had everseen a horse or known one dish from another before this."

  Brilliana gave her handmaid a glance of something near akin todispleasure.

  "I think you all talk and think too much of the gentleman. I seelittle to praise in him save a certain coolness in peril. Let us haveno more of him. We must use him well, but he will soon be gone, and agood riddance. Is my lute tuned, Tiffany?"

  Tiffany answered "Ay," and her lady took up the lute and picked ata tune, yawning. The world seemed to have grown very tedious all ofa sudden, and it did not seem so pleasant as she deemed it wouldprove to sit again in the yew circle and sing. She began a song ortwo, to leave each unfinished with a yawn, and, because yawning iscontagious, Tiffany yawned too, discreetly behind her fingers. Itwas while Tiffany looked away to conceal a vaster yawn than itsfellows, too vast for masking with finger-tips, that she saw asoldierly figure coming across the garden towards the pleasaunce.

  "My lady," she cried, turning to Brilliana, "here comes CaptainHalfman. Let us ask him his mind as to the Parliament man."

  Brilliana's face brightened. Here was company, and good company. Shehad believed him too busy to be seen so soon, for she had bade himsee about raising a troop of volunteers in the village, and sheturned round readily to greet her companion of the siege.

  Through the yew portal Halfman came, gravity reigning in his eyes andslaking their wild fire. He saluted Brilliana with the deep reverencehe always showed to his fair general. Brilliana turned to heradjutant eagerly:

  "Master Halfman, Master Halfman," she cried, "how do you measure ourrebel?"

  Halfman's gravity lightened amazingly at the thought of his prisoner.

  "I take him," he answered, emphatically, "for as proper a fellow asever I met in all my vagabond days. Barring his primness he wouldhave proved a gallant"--he was going to say "pirate," but paused intime and said "seaman." "God pardon him for a Puritan," he went on,"for he has in him the making of a rare Cavalier."

  Brilliana turned to Tiffany, whose cheeks were very red.

  "Hang your head, child," she cried; "for you are outvoted in aparliament of praise. Beat a retreat, maid Tiffany."

&
nbsp; The crimson Tiffany fled from the pleasaunce.

  "Where is your prisoner?" Brilliana asked.

  "I have envoyed him over park and garden," Halfman answered, "andbrought him to port in the library."

  "Alas! I pity him," sighed Brilliana; "it holds few books ofdivinity. But come, recruiting-sergeant, what of our volunteers?"

  "So pleases you, my lady," Halfman said, "our troop is swelling fast,and the sooner we clap them into colored coats the better."

  Brilliana's curls danced in denial.

  "Alas! friend, I have sad news for you. Of cloth for coats I canindeed command a great plenty"--she paused doubtfully.

  "Why this is glad news, not sad news," Halfman said. "So may youserve it out with all despatch."

  Brilliana dropped her hands to her sides and her lids over her eyes,a pretty picture of despair; but, "Alas! 'tis all white," sheconfessed--"wool white, snow white, ermine white. You must needs havepatience, good recruiting-sergeant, till I can have it dyed the royalred."

  Halfman pushed patience from him with outspread palms.

  "Shall the King lack hands for lack of madder?" he questioned, withhumorous indignation. "Not so, I pray you; let us cut our coats fromyour white cloth. I promise you we will dye it ourselves red enoughin the blood of the enemy." Brilliana sprang to her feet rejoicing.

  "Bravely said; so shall it be bravely done. I will give orders atonce for the cutting and sewing. I will back our white coats againstMaster Hampden's green coats, or Essex's swarm in orange-tawny. Haveyou conveyed my message to my two miserly neighbors?"

  "I sent Clupp to Master Hungerford," Halfman answered, "and Garlingeto Master Rainham, bidding them to your presence peremptory. But Iwarn you, my lady, from all I hear, that if you hope to raise coinfor the King's cause from either of the skinflints you will be sadlyat a loss."

  "At least I must try," Brilliana declared. "Am I not the King'sviceroy in Oxfordshire, and are not the two money-bags my proclaimedadorers? It will go hard with me but I compel them to swell theKing's exchequer."

  "You have done marvels," Halfman admitted. "Can you work miracles?With all due reverence, I doubt. But we shall soon see, for herecomes Tiffany tiptoe through the trees. I'll wager it is to heraldone of the vultures."

  As he spoke, Tiffany tripped in pink and grinning.

  "My lady," said she, "Master Paul Hungerford has ridden in and seeksaudience."

  Brilliana clapped her hands.

  "Go, bring him in, Tiffany; and, Tiffany child, if Master PeterRainham comes, as I shrewdly expect, keep him apart, on your life,till I know of his coming."

  Tiffany vanished. Brilliana turned to Halfman.

  "Stay with me, captain, and aid me to trap these badgers."

  Halfman smiled delight. "I will help you extempore," he promised. "Iwill eke out my part with impromptus."

  He stood a little apart, grim mirth in his eyes, as Tiffany usheredinto the circle a lean, shabby country-gentleman, whose habit wouldhave shamed a scarecrow. Tiffany disappeared and the new-comer madeBrilliana an awkward bow. "Sweet lady, you sent for me and I come,love, quickly."