Chapter 5

Whether Mrs. Satchell considered that Tiffany was like to be embarrassed by the attentions of the gentry, or whether she considered that those attentions diverted too much notice from herself as the heroine of the servants' hall, she certainly came to the rescue, edging her bulk between the girl and Ingrow.

"She is too green for your grace," she insisted. "You need a fine woman like me for your flag-bearer."

Even Ingrow's readiness found him something at a loss for an answer. He looked as if he feared lest dame Satchell might take him in an embrace. Brilliana, now that all the glasses were charged, decided that the company had tasted enough of Mrs. Satchell's humors.

"I thank you, Mistress Satchell," she said, quietly, and Mrs. Satchell, rightly reading in the tones of her mistress's voice permission to retire, withdrew in good order, beaming and bobbing to all the gentlemen and followed by Shard and Tiffany, who, with lids demurely lowered, avoided recognition of the admiring glances of Fawley and Ingrow.

Brilliana turned to her company and lifted her glass.

"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 glass.

"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 noble tipple I am a god-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 sturdy 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, God 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! God 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 glasses 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 pricked 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 damned 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.

"Damn 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, prick 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 assured 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 glass 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.

"Duck him in the horse-pond," suggested Bardon.

"Set him in the stocks," Ingrow advised.

Halfman, seeing how Brilliana leaned against the table, her face pale as her smock, raged at her daring denier. He stretched out his sword as if to marshal and restrain the passions of the Cavaliers.

"Would it not be properer sport, sirs," he asked, "to tie him in a chair, like Guido Fawkes on November day, and take him through the village that loyal lads may pelt a traitor?"

Once again Halfman's pleasant invention pleased the fancy of his allies.

"Well said," assented Rufus. "Fetch a rope, some one."

Brilliana, hearing, moved a little forward. She had failed and felt shamed. Yet this thing must not happen. She could not leave her enemy thus to the mercy of his enemies. But what she would have said was stayed by a sudden diversion.

Interest in all the events that had so swiftly passed before them had gravely relaxed the vigilance of Evander's guardians. Garlinge and Clupp--a strong Gyas and a strong Cloanthes--open-eyed and open-mouthed, were open-handed also and clawed no clutch upon their prisoner's shoulder. Thoroughgood, confused between jealous thoughts of Tiffany and envious admiration of the manner in which Halfman handled the gentry, was as heedless as his inferiors, and was therefore taken too much by surprise to offer the slightest resistance when Evander, suddenly springing from between his guards, snatched from his supine arms the captured sword that had been intrusted to his keeping. Before he or any other of the astonished spectators could take any action Evander had leaped lightly into the alcove of the window, and, dragging by main force the heavy table in front of him, so as to blockade his corner, showed himself snugly intrenched behind a rampart which his single sword might well hope to hold at least for some time against the swords of half a dozen assailants.

"You will find me a spoil sport," he cried, cheerily, as he stood on guard behind the massive bulk of oak. "Dogs, here is a hart at bay; beware his antlers."

"Bravely done, rebel," Brilliana cried, aloud, as if in spite of herself, as she beheld the reckless deed, and "Bravely done, rebel," Halfman echoed, in his reluctant turn, as he heard his lady's words and saw the light of praise on his lady's face. Though he hated the Puritan as cordially as if he had been a King's man all his days, he could not deny his courage, and his scene of effective action made him wish himself in Evander's place, taking the stage so skilfully and dominating the situation. But above all this, if Brilliana applauded the rebel's act, then the rebel's life was of some value, and until he received his lady's orders the rebel's life should be sacred to Halfman. So he struck up with his sword the pikes that Garlinge and Clupp levelled, clumsily enough, and were preparing to thrust at Evander over the interposing barrier. At the same moment Rufus, for a very different reason, restrained the action of his comrade Cavaliers, who were making ready for a combined rush, sword in hand, upon their enemy. Rufus saw instantly how well intrenched their enemy lay; it would be hard for any sword to reach him across that width of oak, and even push of pike, when delivered by such loutish fingers as now governed those weapons, might easily be parried by a swordsman so skilful as he guessed Evander to be. But there was no generosity towards a brave adversary in Rufus's action. In his hot ferocity he merely wished to make sure of his quarry as quickly as possible.

"You shall be no hart-royal," he answered, fiercely, taking up the hunter's challenge. "You shall not escape. We shall sound the mort of the deer in a moment. Give me your gun, fellow."

This last command was addressed to Thoroughgood, who had brought his musketoon to the ready and was waiting irresolute for command. Sir Rufus snatched the weapon from him and was about to aim at Evander when, to his rage, Brilliana stepped between him and his mark.

"Stay your hand, Sir Rufus," she commanded, with a frown on the fair face to which the color had now returned. "It is for me, and for me only, to give orders here. This is my prisoner, and were he ten times a Roundpoll he should have honest handling."

Sir Rufus would fain have protested, would fain have carried his point, but he saw that in the face of her whom it was his heart's desire to please which reduced him to sullen obedience. He shrugged his shoulders. "As you please," he muttered, as he returned the gun to Thoroughgood and, turning on his heel to hide his vexation, joined his comrades, who seemed all to share, discomfited, in his rebuke, and to deprecate the anger of Brilliana. Brilliana went up to the table, and, poising herself against it by pressing the palms of her hands on its surface, looked with gracious entreaty into the grave eyes of Evander, who lowered his sword in respectful greeting.

XII

A USE FOR A PRISONER

"Sir," said Brilliana, "if you give me your parole you shall have the freedom of Harby."

Evander made her a ceremonious bow.

"Lady, you seem to me to be the only true gentleman on your side of this quarrel, so I will give you my word and my sword."

Holding his sword by the blade, he extended it across the table to Brilliana, whose hand caught its hilt with the firm grasp of one to whom the manage of arms was not unfamiliar. As she stepped back with her trophy Evander pushed the table aside to afford him passage from his alcove, and, saluting the lady, took his former place between his warders. Brilliana returned his salutation with a murmured "It is well." Rufus, disengaging himself from the knot of discomfited Cavaliers, moved towards her and addressed her with faintly restrained impatience.

"In Heaven's name," he begged, "set this Cantwell on one side if you tender him so precious. I have private news for you."

Brilliana's face wore something of a frown for her presuming friend. "Indeed!" she answered, coldly. Then turning towards Halfman she tendered to him Evander's sword, which he hastened to take from her, kneeling as he did so.

"Captain Cloud is in your care," she said. "Pray you, withdraw your prisoner a little."

Halfman rose, bearing Evander's sword, and went to Evander.

"Will you come this way?" he bade his captive, courteously enough. If Brilliana chose to trust a Roundhead's word, her will was Halfman's law. Evander again saluted Brilliana and followed Halfman to the farther part of the hall. Here in a window-seat, out of ear-shot of the other's speech, he seated himself to commune with his melancholy reflections, while Halfman, after stationing Thoroughgood at a little distance as a nominal guard upon the prisoner, dismissed Garlinge and Clupp from the room and rejoined the Cavaliers. Brilliana, who had still been standing with Sir Rufus, now addressed the others.

"Gentlemen," she said, "you must need sustenance after this morning's work. You will find such poor cheer as Harby can offer in the banqueting-hall. Captain Halfman, will you play the host for me?"

The Cavaliers, who were, indeed, sharp-set and ever-ready trenchermen, welcomed the proposal each after his own fashion.

"Indeed," averred the Lord Fawley, "I would say good-day to a pasty." "Ay," assented Radlett, "well met, beef or mutton." Ingrow euphemized, "I shall be well content with bread and cheese and dreams," as he glanced admiration at Brilliana. Bardon grunted, "I would sell all my dreams for a slice of cold boar's head."

Halfman addressed them in the character of Father Capulet. "We have a trifling foolish banquet towards." He turned towards the doors of the banqueting-room with the famished gentlemen at his heels; then, noticing that Sir Rufus remained with Brilliana, he stopped and questioned him. "You, sir, will you not eat?"

Rufus answered him with an impatience that was almost anger. "No, no," he said; "I have no hunger. Stay your stomachs swiftly, friends."

He turned again to Brilliana, and stood opposite to her in silence till Halfman and the Cavaliers had quitted the hall. Then Brilliana spoke.

"Well, good news or bad?"

"Bad," Rufus answered. "Your cousin Randolph is a captive."

Brilliana gave a little cry of regret.

"Bad news, indeed! How did it chance?"

"In the battle," Rufus answered. "The King's standard-bearer was slain and the King's flag fell into the rebel hands."

Brilliana clasped her hands with a sigh, and would have spoken, but Rufus stayed her, hurrying on with his tale.

"That could not be endured, dear lady. So in the dusk Randolph and I put orange scarfs about us that we might be taken for rogues of Essex's regiment, and so, unchallenged, slipped into the enemy's camp. Dear fortune led me to the tent of Lord Essex, and there I found his secretary sitting and gaping at the precious emblem. I snatched it from his fingers and made good my escape, gaining great praise from his Majesty when I laid the sacred silk at his feet."

Brilliana's eyes swam with adoration. "Oh, my gallant friend!" she cried, and held out her hands to him. He caught them both and kissed them, whereat she instantly withdrew them and moved a little away. He followed her, speaking low, passionately.

"Your words mean more than the King's words to me. You know that."

Brilliana did not look vastly displeased at this wild speech, but she forced a tiny frown and set her finger to her lips.

"Hush!" she said. "What of Randolph?"

"Less fortunate than I," Rufus resumed, in calmer tones, "he ran into the arms of a burly Parliament man, that Cambridge Crophead Mr. Cromwell, who made him prisoner."

"Truly," said Brilliana, thoughtfully, "it is hard luck for him just after his first battle. But 'twill be soon mended. They will exchange him."

Even as she spoke she seemed surprised at the gloomy look that reigned on Rufus's face. His tone was as gloomy as his face as he said, "He was wearing the orange scarf of Essex."

"What then?" Brilliana questioned, still surprised; then, as knowledge flashed upon her, she cried, quickly, "Ah, they will say that he was a spy."

"Ay," Rufus answered, hotly, "the King's spy, God's spy upon enemies of God and King, but still a spy in their eyes."

"But what is to be done?" Brilliana gasped.

"I would that I knew," Rufus answered. "His Majesty has interceded for him and has gained him some days of grace. It is certain that my Lord Essex, if he had his own way, would yield him. But he has not his own way, for this stubborn Cromwell fellow clings to his prisoner."

"Why is he so stubborn?" Brilliana asked. Rufus smiled sourly.

"Partly because, like all new-made soldiers, he is punctilious of the rules of war. Partly because he hopes to turn his capture to some account. Poor Randolph had upon him a letter in cipher from the King to a certain lord. Randolph may buy his life with the key to the cipher."

"He will never do that," Brilliana said, in proud confidence of the courage of her house. She was silent for a moment; then she gave a little cry of joy. "I think I can save him," she exclaimed. Rufus stared at her as if she had lost her wits.

"Why, what can you do?" he asked, astonished. Brilliana answered with a glance of profound wisdom. "I think I know a way," and she nodded her head sagely. Then she turned and moved a little space across the hall in the direction of that window-seat where Evander sat ensconced. When she had advanced two or three paces she called to him:

"Captain Cloud, pray favor me with your company for a few moments of speech."

Evander's consciousness swam to the surface of a pool of gloomy thought at her summons. He rose on the instant and came down the hall towards her.

"I am at your service, lady," he said. Brilliana watched him closely as she questioned.

"You say you are a friend of Mr. Cromwell?"

Evander seemed surprised at the interrogation, but he answered, simply, "I am so favored."

"Does he cherish you in affection?" Brilliana pursued, still watching him closely.

"He loved my father," said Evander. "If I dared to think it I should say he loved me, too. Truly, he has shown me much regard."

Brilliana struck her palms sharply together with the air of one who has solved a difficult problem.

"Your Mr. Cromwell has taken prisoner a cousin of mine whom he threatens to kill as a spy. We will exchange you against Mr. Cromwell's prisoner."

Evander looked steadily back at her with a hint of mild amusement at the corners of his mouth.

"Colonel Cromwell will never exchange a spy," he responded, decisively.

Rufus, who was listening to the conference, nodded his head in gloomy assent. "That is like enough," he agreed. Brilliana stamped a foot and her eyes snapped vexation.

"We shall see," she said, sharply. She turned away from the two men and moved to a small table against the wall that carried writing materials. Seating herself thereat, she took up a goose-quill and began to write rapidly on a large sheet of paper. When she had finished she looked round, and beckoned Rufus to her side that he might hear what she had written. She read it aloud, with her eyes fixed on Evander's impassive face.

"To Colonel Cromwell, serving with my Lord Essex in the Parliamentary army lately at Edgehill. My cousin, Sir Randolph Harby, is a prisoner in your hands. Your friend, Mr. Evander Cloud, is a prisoner in mine. I will exchange my prisoner for your prisoner; but the life of Mr. Evander Cloud is answerable for the life of Randolph Harby. Such is the sure promise and steadfast vow of his cousin and the King's true subject, Brilliana Harby."

As she read, the dour face of Rufus brightened, and he rubbed his hands in satisfaction at the close.

"By the Lord, an honest thought," he chuckled. "Swing Randolph, swing rat-face."

Evander smiled disdainfully.

"I am no spy," he asserted, firmly, "and by the laws of war you have no right to my life."

Brilliana turned on him tauntingly.

"You were taken a rebel in arms and your life is at my mercy."

"Then," said Evander, calmly, "add to your letter my wish that Colonel Cromwell take no thought of me."

Brilliana stamped impatiently.

"I am not your secretary," she said, sharply.

"It does not matter," Evander answered, smoothly. "Colonel Cromwell will follow the laws of war."

"I am sorry for you if he do," Brilliana declared. "We shall test the strength of Colonel Cromwell's love." She called, loudly, "John Thoroughgood."

Thoroughgood advanced to her from where he stood removed.

"Ride with a white flag," Brilliana went on; "ride hard to my Lord Essex's army, wherever it may be. Where is my Lord Essex, Rufus?"

"They have retired, I think, upon Warwick," Rufus said, doubtfully.

"Well," Brilliana continued, "to the rebel army, wherever you can find it. Deliver this letter into the hands of Colonel Cromwell. Bring back his answer swiftly. Ride as if you were riding for your life."

Thoroughgood saluted, took the letter, and turned to go. Brilliana stopped him.

"First quarter Captain Cloud in the west room, and see him well tended."

Evander bowed.

"I thank you," he said, and followed Thoroughgood out of the room. Brilliana turned to Rufus.

"I trust you will all feast here to-night."

Rufus shook his head sadly.

"Tears in my eyes and heart, but not possible. We join the King to-night for Banbury." He came close to her and spoke low. "Bright Brilliana, will you not give me your golden promise ere I go?"

"You must not ask that yet," Brilliana pleaded. "I must know my own mind."

Sir Rufus banged his hands together.

"By God, I know mine, and my mind is to win you if I have to kill a regiment of rivals."

Brilliana pretended to shudder at his ferocity.

"Lord! you are a very violent lover."

Rufus did not deny her.

"I am a very earnest lover, a very desperate lover."

Brilliana made a gesture of protest.

"Fie, this is no love-talk time, when the King is fighting. Ride, gallant Rufus, come back with loyal laurels and the flags of canting rebels, and see how I shall welcome you."

Rufus caught her hands.

"Must I be content with this?" he asked, hotly.

"You must be content with this," Brilliana replied, coolly. "Here come your brothers-in-arms."

The doors of the banqueting-hall opened, and Fawley, Radlett, Bardon, Ingrow, and Halfman came in, all brighter for wine and food.

"'Tis boot and saddle, Rufus," Fawley cried.

"I am yours," Rufus answered. He bowed over Brilliana's fingers. "Farewell, lady."