Part 13
Porringer raised his scarred face to heaven. "God," he said, "we are thy people! Save us! Let destruction come upon them unawares; let them go down a dark and slippery way to death; make them to be as blind and deaf adders that see not the foot of the destroyer! Yea, shake thy hand upon these Malignants and make them a spoil to their servants!" He turned his ghastly face and burning eyes upon Landless. "Curse them with me!" he cried.
Landless shook his head. "Thou and I look not alike at things, friend," he said.
"Thou art a Laodicean!" cried the other wildly. "Thou hast not an eye single to the Lord's work as had thy father before thee. Thou wouldst not smite the Amalekites hip and thigh, root and branch! One damsel would thou save alive, and for her sake thy heart is soft towards the whole accursed brood! Look to it lest the Lord spew thee out of His mouth! Woe, woe, to him that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back!" He laughed wildly and tossed out his arms.
"I think thou hast eaten of the Jamestown weed!" said Landless fiercely. "Collect thy senses, man! And speak something less loudly, or Roach's betrayal will be superfluous. As to myself, if I curse not, I act; and as for my motives for what you call lukewarmness, and I call common humanity, you will please to let them alone!"
The excitement faded from the fanatic's face, and he said more quietly, "You are right, friend. I was mad for a moment, mad to see that freedom which is so near us so imperiled. I meant not to quarrel with you who have shown in the conduct of this work the discernment of a young Daniel, yea, who have so borne yourself, that I have grown to care for you as I never thought to care again for human being. I have prayed much that you should be brought from the twilight of Calvinism into the pure light wherein walk the disciples of the blessed Ludovick."
They reached the square and mingled with the motly crowd that lined its sides, leaving the centre occupied only by the murderer, his captors, and the master. Followed by the Muggletonian, Landless made his way to where the yellow locks of young Dick Whittington towered above the crowd. The boy saw him coming, and edging past a knot of blacks, met him in a little open space, whose only occupants were two or three women, and an Indian squatting upon the ground. Leaning against a pine, and fixing his gaze and, to all appearance, his attention upon the central group where the overseer was just finishing a circumstantial account of the chase, Landless said quietly:--
"You were of the party that took him?"
"That I was!" answered the boy gleefully. "Losh! but it was fun!" His blue eyes danced with impish delight; a noiseless laugh showed all his strong white teeth. "We went straight to the spot where you and Mistress Patricia saw him by the lightning. There the dogs struck his trail and the fun commenced. Over streams and fallen trees, and chinquepin ridges; through bogs and myrtle thickets and miles of grape vines--swounds! but it was hot work! Just look at the scratches on my face and hands! Joyce Whitbread would n't know me! The Court spark, he wore a mask and saved his beauty. He's a well-plucked one, though, took the lead and kept it, and when it was over, treated us to usquebaugh at Luckey Doughty's store. Well, we run the fox to earth in a Chickahominy village. Lord! I 'm sorry for the half king of the Chickahominies! He'll have to answer to Governor and Council for letting red fox burrow in his village. Found him squatted in a sassafras patch. Snarled and fought and tried to bite like the beast he is. Woodson and the Court spark took him."
"Do you know what will be done with him now?"
"He 'll be taken on to the gaol at the court-house."
"That is five miles from here," said Landless.
"Yes, near to the village where we took him. He 'll be kept there until they can try him. And they'll make short work of him. He 'll be food for crows directly."
The throng pressed upon them, forcing them nearer to the group beneath the dead tree. The overseer had finished his account, and the master was clearing his throat to speak. Landless found himself upon the inner verge of the mass of spectators, directly opposite the murderer, and confronted by him with a look so dark, wild and malignant, that he could not doubt the intention that lay behind those scowling eyes. Luiz Sebastian, still with the murderer's arm in his grasp, gave him a peculiar look which he could not translate. In the background he saw Trail's sinister face peering over the shoulder of an Indian.
"You dog!" said the planter, addressing himself directly to Roach. "What have you to say for yourself?"
The murderer made an uncertain sound with his dry lips, and his bloodshot eyes roamed around the circle from one staring face to another, until they returned to rest upon the watchful, amber-hued countenance beside him.
"Speak!" said his master sternly.
"I 'll say nothing," was the dogged reply, "until I stands my trial. I demands a fair trial."
"Remember that this is your last chance to speak to me, to speak to any one in authority before you are tried. Of course you will hang for this. Have you anything to say? Do you wish to speak to me in private?"
The murderer raised his head, and shaking the tangled hair from about his face, cast at Landless, standing ten paces beyond the planter, such a look of deadly and blasting hatred, that for a moment the blood ran cold in the young man's veins. He set his teeth and braced himself to meet the blow at plans and hopes and life that should follow such a look.
To his astonishment the blow did not fall. Roach changed the basilisk gaze with which he had regarded him to a vacant stare.
"I 've naught to say," he whined, "except that I hopes your honor will see that I has a fair trial--no d--d Tyburn or Newgate hocus-pocussing."
The master beckoned to the overseer. "Take him away," he said. "Take two or three men and carry him on to the gaol."
He turned on his heel and walked to where Sir Charles Carew leaned against a tree, idly flicking the mud from his boots with his riding cane. Landless standing near and listening with strained ears heard the master say in answer to the other's lifted brows:--
"Nothing to be learnt in that quarter. If there 's rebellion brewing, he knows nothing of it."
Fresh horses were brought from the stables. "You, Luiz Sebastian, Taylor, and Mathew," said the overseer, swinging himself into the saddle. The men designated mounted, and Roach, bound and scowling, was hoisted to his former seat behind Luiz Sebastian. The cavalcade started. As the horse that bore the double load passed Landless, the murderer twisted himself about in his seat, and, with a venomous look, spat at him. Luiz Sebastian smiled evilly.
The shaven head and fleshless face of Win-Grace Porringer protruded themselves over Landless's shoulder.
"What does it mean?" he muttered.
"God knows," answered the other. "Come to the trysting place to-night. We must act, and act quickly."
That night ten men met in the deserted hut on the marsh, having stolen with the caution of Indians from their respective plantations. Five were men who had fought at Edgehill and Naseby and Worcester, or had followed Cromwell through the breach at Drogheda. Four were victims of the Act of Uniformity; darker, sterner, more determined if possible, than the veterans of the New Model. The tenth man was Landless. When, late at night, he and Porringer crept stealthily back to the quarters, it was with the conviction that this was the last time they should so steal through the darkness. The date of the rising had been fixed for the thirteenth of September; this night, by Landless's advice, it was brought forward to the tenth--and it was now the sixth.
Groping his way past the slumbering forms of the three other occupants of his cabin, Landless threw himself down upon his pallet with a heavy sigh.
"Liberty!" he said beneath his breath. "Goddess, whom I and mine have sought through long years, whom once we thought we held, and waked to find thee gone,--once I thought thee fairer than aught beside; thought no price too great to pay for thee. But now!"
He hid his face in his hands with a stifled groan, When at length he fell into a troubled sleep, it was to see again a storm-tossed boat, and a woman's face, set like a star against the blackness of the night.
*CHAPTER XIX*
*THE LIBRARY OF THE SURVEYOR-GENERAL*
At a long, low table stood Mistress Betty Carrington, her slender figure enveloped in an apron of blue dowlas, her sleeves of fine holland rolled above her elbows, and her white and rounded arms plunged deep into a great bowl filled with the purple globes of the wild grape. A row of children knelt on the brick floor at her feet, busily stripping the fruit from the stems, and negresses, hard by, strained with sinewy hands the crimson juice from the pulpy mass into jars of earthenware. To this group suddenly entered a breathless urchin.
"Ohe, mistis! de Gov'nor an' Massa Peyton comin' up de road!"
Betty suspended her operations with a little cry. "The Governor!" she exclaimed in dismay. "And my father is gone a-processioning;--and my gown is not seemly;--and he cannot be kept waiting!" She threw off her apron, dipped her hands into the water the slaves poured for her, and was at the hall door in time to courtesy to the Governor, as, followed by a groom, and attended by Mr. Peyton, he rode up to the house.
With the agility of youth his Excellency sprung from his horse, threw the reins to the groom, and advanced to greet the lady. A richly laced riding-suit became his still slight and elegant figure to a marvel; his gilt-spurred, Spanish leather boots were of the newest, most approved cut; his periwig was fresh curled, and framed with distinction a handsome, if somewhat withered, countenance. He doffed his Spanish hat with a bow and flourish: Betty courtesied profoundly.
"Welcome to Rosemead, your Excellency."
"I greet you well, pretty Mistress Betty," said the Governor, and took a governor's privilege. Mr. Peyton looked as though he would have liked to follow his Excellency's example, but was fain to content himself with the lady's hand, resigned to the respectful pressure of his lips with a charming blush and a dropping of long-fringed eyelids.
"Where is your father, sweetheart?" demanded the Governor.
"Ah! your Excellency, he is unfortunate. The vestry hath appointed this day for the examination of boundaries in this parish, and as his Majesty's Surveyor-General he leads the procession. But will not your Excellency await his return? He will be here anon, and with him Colonel Verney."
"Then will I wait, pretty one; for I have weighty matters to discuss both with him and with Dick Verney."
Betty ushered them into the great room, cool, dark, and fragrant of roses.
"If your Excellency will permit me to withdraw, I will order some refreshment for you after your long ride."
The Governor sank into an armchair, and smiled graciously.
"Faith! a bit of pasty comes not amiss after a morning canter. And prithee see to the sack thyself, Mistress Betty. And a dish of pippins and cheese," continued the Governor, meditatively, "and a rasher of bacon."
"There was a fine comb taken from the hive this morning. Will your Excellency choose a bit? And there are dates, sent my father by the captain of the Barbary vessel, and a quince tart--"
"We will taste of it all," said his Excellency, graciously, "and afterwards a pipe and a saucer of sweet scented, and your company, my love. Mr. Peyton, the lady may find the honeycomb too heavy for her lifting. We will excuse you to her assistance."
"I am your Excellency's most obedient servant," quoth Mr. Peyton with due submission, and hastened after his blushing mistress.
The Governor, left alone, strolled to the window and looked out upon the Chesapeake, lying blue and unruffled beneath the dazzling sunshine; to the mantel-piece, and smelt of the roses in the blue china bowl; to the spinet, and picked out "Here 's to Royal Charles" with one finger;--and finally brought up before a corner cupboard, found the key in the door, turned it, and came upon the Surveyor-General's library.
"H'm, what has he here?" soliloquized his Excellency. "'Purchas; His Pilgrimes,' of course; 'General History of Virginia, New England and the Summer Isles,' well and good; 'Good News from Virginia,' humph! that must have been before my time; 'Public Good without Private Interest,' humph! What's this? 'Areopagitica,' John Milton! John Hypocrite and Parricide! A pretty author, and a pretty cause he advocates,--I thank God there are no schools and no printing presses in this colony, nor are like to be,--and a courageous Surveyor-General to keep by him such pestilent stuff in the present year of grace. 'Abuses Stript and Whipt,' 'Anglia Rediva,' 'Diary of Nehemiah Wallington,' 'Bastwick's Litany!' Miles Carrington, Miles Carrington! I have my eye on thee! Thou hadst need to walk warily! 'Zion's Plea against Prelacy,' damnation! 'Speech of Mr. Hampden,' death and hell! 'Eikonoklastes,' may the foul fiend fly away with my soul!"
And the Governor closed the cupboard door with a bang, and, with a very red and frowning face, went back to his seat, and there sank into a reverie, which lasted until the entrance of Mistress Betty and Mr. Peyton, followed by two slaves bearing an ample repast.
An hour later came home the Surveyor-General, bringing with him Colonel Verney, Sir Charles Carew, and Captain Laramore.
The Surveyor-General made stately apologies to his Excellency for his unavoidable absence: his Excellency, holding himself very erect, heard him out, and then said coldly, "Major Carrington may rest at ease. I was sufficiently amused."
"Truly the county knows Mr. Peyton's powers of entertainment," said the Surveyor-General with a bow and smile for that young gentleman.
"Mr. Peyton had other occupation," said the Governor dryly. "And I fear that his is too cavalier a wit, and that his sonnets and madrigals savor too much of loyalty to the Anointed of the Lord and to His Church to have proved acceptable to the worshipful company with whom I have been engaged. I have to congratulate his Majesty's Surveyor-General on the possession of such a library as, I dare swear, is to be found in no other house in this, his Majesty's _loyal_ dominion of Virginia."
Carrington glanced towards the cupboard, and bit his lip.
"I am pleased," he said stiffly, "that your Excellency hath found wherewithal to pass an idle hour."
"It is, indeed, a choice collection," said the Governor, with a smooth tongue, but with an angry light in his eyes. "May I ask by whom it was chosen; who it was that so carefully culled nightshade and poison oak?"
"_I_ choose my own reading," said Carrington haughtily. "And I see not why Sir William Berkeley should concern himself--"
"This passes!" exclaimed the Governor, giving rein to his fury and striking his hand against the table. "It doth concern me much, Major Carrington, both as a true man, and as the Governor of this Colony, the representative of his blessed Majesty, King Charles the Second, may all whose enemies, private and open, be confounded! that a gentleman who holds a high office in this Colony should have in his possession--ay! and read, too, for 't is a well-thumbed copy--that foul emanation from a fouler mind, that malicious, outrageous, damnable, proscribed book, called 'Eikonoklastes!'"
"If Sir William Berkeley doubts my loyalty--" began Carrington fiercely.
"Major Carrington, you are too popular a man!" broke in the Governor as fiercely. "When, upon that black day, ten years ago, the usurper's frigates entered the Chesapeake, and taking us unprepared, compelled (God forgive me!) my submission, who but Miles Carrington welcomed and entertained the four commissioners (commissioners from a Roundhead Parliament to a King's Governor!)? Who but Miles Carrington was hand in glove with the shopkeeper Bennett and the renegade Matthews? Oh! they used their power mildly, I deny it not! They were gracious and long-suffering; they left to the loyal gentlemen, their sometime friends, life and lands; they contented themselves with banishing a loyal Governor to his own manor-house, and not, as they might have done, to the wilderness, to perish amongst the savages. O, they were exemplary despots! What, when a turn of Fortune's wheel brought them up, could grateful, loyal gentlemen, could a grateful King's Governor do, but follow the example set them and be civil to the officers of the late Commonwealth, and something more than civil to the gentleman who so gracefully avowed that he had but bowed to the times, and that the restored sovereign had no more faithful subject than he? When his Majesty was graciously pleased to continue that gentleman (at the solicitation of his loyal kindred at home) in the office of Surveyor-General to this colony, sure, we all rejoiced. It is not with the past of Major Carrington that I quarrel; it is with the present. In his case, that which should speak loudest for his recovered loyalty is wanting. Others there are who have that witness. Let Mr. Digges ride abroad, and from his cabin-door some prick-eared cur cried out, 'Renegade!' (Pardon me, the word is not mine.) The Oliverian and schismatic servants spit at him. Is it so with Major Carrington? By G--d, no! These people uncover to him as though he were the arch rebel himself. Speak of his Majesty's Surveyor-General before an Oliverian, and the fellow pricks up his ears like a charger that scents the battle. Nay, I am told that in their conventicles the schismatics pray for him, that he may be brought back into the fold, and may become a second Moses, and lead them out of Egypt! Even the Quakers have a good word for him. Major Carrington asks me if I question his loyalty. I answer that I know not, but I do know that the discontented and mutinous of the land do look upon him with too favorable a regard. And his loyalty is of that tender age that it may well be susceptible to the influence of the evil eye." The Governor, who was now in a white heat of passion, stopped for breath.
"Sir William Berkeley, you shall answer to me for this!" said the Surveyor-General, with white lips.
"With all the pleasure in life," said the Governor, clapping his hand to his rapier.
Carrington folded his arms. "Not now," he said, with stern courtesy. "I believe your Excellency sleeps at Verney Manor? I, too, am invited thither. There, and it please you, we will adjust our little difference. For the present, you are my guest."
The Governor choked down his passion, though with difficulty. "Till to-night then--" he began, when Colonel Verney interposed.
"Neither to-night, nor at any other time," he said sturdily. "Gadzooks! have not his Majesty's servants enough on hand without employing their time in pinking one another? Here are the Chickahominies restive, and those plaguy Ricahecrians amongst us, and the Nansemond Independents prophesying the end of the world, and the witches' trial coming on, and the Quakers to be routed out, and on top of it all this story that Ludlow brings of a redemptioner's assertion that there is afoot an Oliverian plot. And his Majesty's Governor, and his Majesty's Surveyor-General with drawn rapiers! For shame, gentlemen! Major Carrington, my good friend and neighbor, for whose loyalty to our present gracious sovereign I would answer for as I would for my own, forget the hasty words which I am sure Sir William Berkeley already regrets. Come, Sir William, acknowledge that you were over-choleric."
"I 'll be d--d if I do!" cried the Governor.
"We meet to-night," said the Surveyor-General.
The Colonel turned to Sir Charles Carew, who had been a highly amused spectator of this little scene.
"Charles," he said impressively, "report hath it that you have figured in more affairs of honor than any man of your age at court. You should be a nice judge of such gear. Join me in assuring these gentlemen that they may be reconciled, and their honor receive not the least taint; and so avert a duel which would be a scandal to the community, and a menace to the state."
Sir Charles glanced from the pacific Colonel to the sternly collected Surveyor-General, and thence to the fiery Governor, whose white, jeweled fingers twitched with impatience.
"Certainly, sir," he said lazily, "you are welcome to my poor opinion, which is that, considering the nature of the provocation, and the standing of the parties, there is one way out of the affair with honor."
"Exactly!" said the Colonel eagerly.
Sir Charles locked his hands behind his head. "There 's a very pretty piece of ground behind your orchard, sir," he said, dreamily regarding the ceiling. "I noticed it the other day, and sink me! if I did not wish for Harry Bellasses with whom I have fought three times. 'T is ever a word and a blow with Harry! The light just at sunset is excellent, though your twilight cometh over soon. May I venture to suggest to your Excellency that your _riposte_ is more brilliant than safe? Major Carrington, your parade is somewhat out of fashion. I could teach you the newest French mode in five minutes.
"I am obliged for your offer, sir," said the Surveyor-General dryly. "The other has served my turn, and must do so again."
"Sir Charles Carew will do me the honor to be my second?" asked the Governor of that gentleman, who answered with a low bow, and a "The honor is mine."
"Captain Laramore?" said the Surveyor-General.
"At your service, Major," cried the Captain, a dashing, black-a-vised personage, with large gold rings in his ears, a plume a yard long in his castor, and a general Draweansir air.
"Will Captain Laramore fight?" inquired Sir Charles. "I have had the honor of changing the date for sailing for several gentlemen of his profession."
"Even so accomplished a swordsman as Sir Charles Carew is allowed to be, hath yet a lesson to learn," said the doughty captain.
"And that is--"
"Pride shall have a fall--to-night."
Sir Charles smiled politely. "The ship that is anchored off yonder point is yours, is it not? Would you not like to take a last look at her? Or to leave instructions for your lieutenant and successor? There is time for you to gallop to the point and back."
"Am I to have the honor of crossing swords with you, Colonel Verney?" asked Mr. Peyton.
"No, sir!" exclaimed the vexed Colonel. "You are not! I wash my hands of this foolish fray. William Berkeley, I have never scrupled to tell thee when I thought thee in the wrong. I think so now. Charles, thou art an impudent fellow! I have it in my mind to wish that the Captain may give thee the lesson he talks of."
"Thank you, sir," drawled the gentleman addressed. "Mr. Peyton looks quite disconsolate. Sink me! if it's not a shame to leave him out in the cold. If he will wait his turn I will be happy to oblige him when I have disposed of the Captain."
"You will do no such thing!" retorted his kinsman. "Mr. Peyton, take your hand off your sword! At least there shall be two sane men at this meeting. I suppose, gentlemen, you agree with me that this affair cannot be kept too private? To that end you had best ride with me to Verney Manor, and there have it out on this plot of ground Charles talks of. It is at least retired."
"'T is a most sweet spot," said Sir Charles.
"Good!" quoth the Governor. "And now that this little matter is settled, I am once more, and for the present, sir, simply your obliged guest and servant," and he bowed to the Surveyor-General.
Carrington returned the bow. "We will drink to our better acquaintance to-night. Pompey! the sack and the aqua vitae. And, Pompey! a handful of mint."