The MS. in a Red Box

[Transcriber's note: the source book had no listed author, however, the British Library catalog shows John Arthur Hamilton as the author.]

THE MS. IN
A RED BOX

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY

Cheap Edition

BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. LTD., LONDON

THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
TO ITS UNKNOWN AUTHOR
BY THE PUBLISHER

ORIGINAL PUBLISHER'S NOTE

One day in April last a parcel was sent to the Bodley Head. On being opened it was found to contain a MS. in a red box, without any accompanying letter, without title, author's name, or address. For some days it was not entered in the book of the firm kept for the purpose of registering the receipt of MSS.; but, as no letter was received, towards the end of the month it was recorded in pencil as follows: "The MS. in a Red Box." According to the usual course it was then sent to the publisher's reader, who reported on it with enthusiasm; meanwhile there had been no inquiry from the author, and the publisher read it for himself, and fully endorsed the opinion of his literary adviser. After some discussion, the following advertisement was inserted in the pages of The Athenæum and The Academy:—

TO AUTHORS.

NOTICE.—If the Writer of a Historical Novel, without Title, Author's Name, or Address, sent some weeks ago to the Bodley Head in a Red Box, will communicate with the Publisher, he will hear of something to his advantage.

JOHN LANE.
Vigo Street, London, W.

This gave rise to much comment in the press, and of course brought several applications from authors of MSS. which had gone astray.

The publisher learnt, to his bewilderment, that MSS. of novels have a tendency to wander irresponsibly in space, somewhat after the fashion of comets.

Later on the publisher again advertised, stating that he would publish the book on a certain day under the title of "The MS. in a Red Box," unless the author communicated with him before the advertised date.

For the selection of the title, the publisher is indebted to Mrs. W. K. Clifford, Mrs. Ford of Pencarrow, Mrs. Wilberforce, Mr. I. N. Ford of the New York Tribune, Mr. Henry Harland, Mr. W. J. Locke, and Professor York Powell, as it happened that these seven all suggested the same title on the same day; and the superstitious instinct of the publisher was not proof against this consensus of opinion.

Mr. Ford is responsible for the cover, which represents the Red Box in which the MS. originally reached the Bodley Head; but to the Hon. Mrs. Anstruther is due the witty suggestion of adding the Della Robbia plaque from the Florentine Foundling Hospital.

The author may, perhaps, ask why the publisher did not wait longer for him to reveal himself. The reason was that it appeared that the interest aroused in this foundling romance, through the author's modesty or carelessness, would be best maintained by publication while the incidents were still fresh in the minds of the public. The publisher holds that what is the author's interest is also his.

With regard to the business side of this transaction, the publisher will try to meet the author's demands in a spirit of fairness; but, should there be any dispute arise, he, for his part, will be quite willing to leave the decision with the President of the Society of Authors, Mr. George Meredith, and the President of the Publishers' Association, Mr. Charles James Longman, the prince of English publishers.

For the author's protection, some slight changes have been made in the MS., in no way, however, affecting the story, but of sufficient importance to prevent any false claim from being successfully advanced. The author's interests have been further safeguarded by "The MS. in a Red Box" being copyrighted and published in the United States of America. The work has been seen through the press by Mr. Richard Upton, of Jesus College, Cambridge.

Apart from the interest the publisher has had in reading the book, he has to thank the author for relieving the tedium of ordinary publishing, and, in addition, for providing him with the unique experience of dedicating a book to its unknown author.

THE BODLEY HEAD

The MS. in a RED BOX

CHAPTER I

On the tenth of May in the year sixteen hundred and twenty-seven, I rode from Temple Belwood to Crowle, as blithe and merry as any young fellow in the world. For one thing, the day was the finest of an early season, the air sweet with spring odours and glad with pleasant sounds. The laburnums and lilacs and hawthorn and the foreign chestnuts (in blossom for the first time at Temple Belwood that year) were full of bloom. The hen-pheasants were whistling to their new-hatched broods; the fresh-shorn sheep were answering the bleating of their lambs; trees and bushes rang with the melody of small birds, and from the holms and islets of marsh and mere came a din of quacking, clanging, and chattering water-fowl, which distance mingled and softened into music. But what a pother I make! It was a fine spring day in Axholme. The great reason for gladness was that I had received good news—news of hard won victory from my father, then in London. For years the Isle had been threatened with invasion by one Cornelius Vermuijden, a Dutchman, who had induced the King to grant him authority to drain the meres, embank and stop the rivers of the Isle, and transform the country at his pleasure, regardless of the rights of the Isle Commoners covenanted in the Deed of Earl Mowbray. When the Dutchman had completed his precious scheme, one third of the land reclaimed was to become the property of the King, another to be Vermuijden's, and the remaining third to be divided among the Commoners of the Isle, that is, the land-owners. This, without the consent of the land-owners, be it understood, and in nowise considering the ruin certain to befall hundreds of poorer folk, who lived by fishing, fowling, reed-cutting, egg-gathering, and the like crafts of marshmen.

When the first rumour of the plan came to Axholme, it was theme for laughter. What man in his senses could believe that his Majesty would empower a foreigner to lord it over two hundred and fifty square miles of English soil, diverting rivers, cutting canals, turning pools and lakes into boggy ground, and of necessity (so said shrewd men, who had knowledge of such matters, and as indeed proved to be the case), turning fruitful fields into marsh and swamp? But consternation quickly followed jesting, for the incredible thing was true. His Majesty had great need of money, and the Dutchman held command of inexhaustible treasure, so the Isle was to be given over to his will. Then gentle and simple alike turned to my father, Thomas Vavasour. They knew his courage and capacity and his public mind. Into his hands they committed their cause, and he became "their Solicitor," as they loved to call him, though he was no lawyer by profession, nor ever received aught for his services. He had been in London on this business for some weeks, and now wrote to me that he had obtained a judgment of the Court of Exchequer, confirming the rights of the Isle Commoners, and finally quashing the scheme of invasion. My father had worsted the Dutchman—and his Majesty himself—and saved the Isle! The news would set the bells ringing in every steeple in Axholme; there would be bonfires on every hill and mound, and feasting and merrymaking in every manor house and farm and cottage. I had been ready to caper and shout when I read the letter, but I suddenly bethought me that the announcement should be made by "the Solicitor" himself, and that if it so pleased him, my coming of age that day week would be a fitting occasion. It was hard to keep the tidings to myself, but it appeared right to me that my father, who had gained it, should publish his victory. In his letter he said nothing to guide me. I determined to take counsel of the Vicar of Crowle, my uncle by marriage with my mother's sister. But when I reached Crowle, it became doubtful whether I should impart the great news even to Mr. Graves, who had a high sense of his importance as the parson of a parish, and might be unable to resist the temptation to be the first to announce the good news. The next day would be Sunday, I remembered. To think of this awhile longer, I turned my horse into a track, which wound up a little hill that over-topped the town. As soon as I gained the crown of the hill, a tumult of angry shouts and the noise of barking dogs came to my ears, and I rode down the track toward the spot from which the sounds arose. A thick growth of trees hindered my view until I came to an open glade, where a number of men and lads, perhaps two score, were gathered round an old oak. They seemed to be threatening some one. As I drew nearer, I saw a young and beautiful woman, seated on a root of the old tree, her back against the trunk, and one arm partly folded in her cloak, round the neck of a fawn, huddled closely to her. The cloak had been torn in two or three places, and through the rents showed the whiteness of her arm stained with blood. Her face was deathly pale, but her eyes were bright and dauntless.

The fellows parted right and left as I rode up, and some of them seemed half ashamed of themselves before I spoke.

"What devilry is this?" I shouted. "You vile cowards! To set your dogs on a woman!"

A stout fellow, whose face bore many scars of old wounds, nicknamed Stride-a-mile from his skill in stilt-walking, answered me boldly enough—

"The devilry is none of ours. The foreign woman has bewitched the fawn, and won't give it up. How could we hinder the dogs snapping at her?"

"You lie, you rascal," I replied. "The curs are harmless enough now that you are not hissing them on."

Half a dozen mongrel hounds were whimpering and snarling and growling round the lady, but not attempting to bite.

"Maybe I am a liar and a coward and a devil, Master Vavasour," said Stride-a-mile; "but the fawn is ours, and we mean to have it. We found it and the doe yonder"—pointing to a carcase which lay on the ground thirty yards off—"out of forest bounds, and we've chased it, and 'tis ours." The fellow looked round on his comrades, some of whom answered the look by gripping cudgels, displaying their big knives, or setting their crossbows.

Boiling with rage at what I deemed the fellow's insolence, and forgetting the odds against me, and what might happen to the lady, if I should be overborne, I raised my riding-whip, and touched Trueboy's side with my heel, when an oldish man, whom I did not know, stepped between me and Stride-a-mile, saying—

"A parley, squire. 'Twould be a bad day's work if harm came to you; and venison isn't worth any man's life. Maybe the lady will explain to you why she wants the whole fawn. It would go bad long before she could eat it all. If she would be satisfied with a haunch, now, we won't say her nay."

Angry though I was, I could not forbear laughing that the lady should be suspected of so inordinate desire of venison, but I knew no more than the fat fellow himself what her reason was for keeping their game from the rabble. I looked at her inquiringly.

She spoke in a clear, sweet voice. "When its mother fell, and the dogs sprang upon her, the poor little creature ran straight to me, and its dear, brown eyes said, 'Save me,' as well as eyes can speak. How could I be so cruel as to refuse its suppliant plea?"

As her own fawn-like eyes were lifted to me, I wished I could paint the beautiful face as a picture of the Mother of Pity.

"Will the men take money for the fawn, if they wish to eat it?" she asked, holding out a piece of gold between thumb and finger.

Most of the men brightened at the suggestion, but Stride-a-mile answered—

"Who's to say 'tis good? No foreign tokens for us. For aught we know 'tis witches' money, and will turn to cinder."

"Oh, if that's your objection," said I, "here's a twenty-shilling laurel," which I tossed to him.

The magic of money! The sulky clowns were happy on the instant. They gave a cheer for the "young Squire of Belwood," and hurried off to pick up the doe, and then, doubtless, to the ale-house.

Dismounting, I inquired whether the lady had friends at hand to whose care I might take her.

"My father and I are lodging at the inn of the White Hart," she said, rising to her feet, but immediately sinking again, with a little moan. "I am afraid walking is out of my power," she said. "My ankle is disabled. If you will do me the kindness to acquaint my father, Doctor Goel, with my position, he will know what to do."

"Pardon me, but that would be waste of time, and time is precious," I answered. "Your hurts should be seen to without delay. If you can manage to sit my horse, I will lead him gently."

A faint smile crossed her face, drawn with pain though it was.

"I have never ridden a horse, and should probably fall; for, to tell the truth, I have some fear that I may swoon."

She was so pale, and such a dimness had come into her eyes that I feared so, too.

"Then we must needs ride double," said I, jumping into the saddle. "I will take you in front of me, and there will be no risk of your falling."

"But the little deer," she cried. "We cannot leave the poor little beast."

I was ready to curse the "little beast," but there was no gainsaying the lady, so I leaped down again, took up the fawn, and scrambling up on the roots of the old oak, which was hollow, thrust it through a great hole, and let it drop inside.

Regaining my saddle, I said, "The fawn will be safe, until we have leisure to return. Now for the White Hart."

With some difficulty, I drew the lady on to Trueboy's back, and putting one arm round her waist, set off at a canter. Happily, she did not swoon, and in ten minutes we arrived at the inn, where the stout hostess and Nancy the maid received the lady into their arms, and carried her to an inner room, making a great outcry of pity and astonishment, and asking twenty questions in a breath. Committing Trueboy to Mat the ostler, I followed, in time to catch a glimpse of the lady laid on a squab, and of a tall, spare man of sixty or thereabout bending over her. Then the door was closed, and I seated myself in the common room, and waited, while Mistress Hind and her maid bustled about with jugs and basins of water, hot and cold, and towels and clean rags, shaking their heads, and sighing and exclaiming after the manner of their kind. Growing impatient of the noise they made, I walked out into the inn yard, and remembering that the fawn was still in the wood, and that the lady would be concerned about the creature, I despatched Mat with a handcart, rope, et cetera, to bring it to the inn.

When I re-entered the house, the old man came to the door of the inner chamber, and making a sweeping bow, addressed me in French, signifying that his daughter wished to have speech with me. I returned his bow, and followed into the room, where the lady lay, a little colour now in her cheeks, and in her eyes a mirthful light. I thought I had never seen woman half so lovely, and I think so still.

"Be seated, sir, if you please," she said. "I have yet to thank you for your courage and kindness."

I interrupted her. "Are the wounds likely to be healed soon? Is there no peril of lameness, or enduring mischief?" I asked, half turning to her father.

"My father has little English," said she. "Perhaps you speak French?"

I shook my head; for, though I knew something of the tongue, I much preferred to converse through the charming interpreter.

"To set your mind at rest," she continued, with a glance bright and warm as a sunbeam, "my father tells me that a few scars will be the worst consequences of what he calls my folly—and the barbarism of your countrymen."

"Barbarism, assuredly," I answered; "but it is to be said for them that the fawn was their game, and they did not understand your behaviour. You ran great risk by defending it. Why did you not offer them money for it?"

"Because the heart is quicker than the head." Then she added archly, "You were not much wiser. It did not occur to you to buy our safety. You were for fighting, one against fifty, with riding-whip against bludgeons and crossbows and guns."

"Perhaps I was more foolish than valiant," said I.

"Nay, I meant no flout," answered the lady, and her eyes were dewy as she looked at me.

"The fat old fellow must have the praise for our deliverance," I said.

"Not from me," smiled the lady.

The gratitude she so expressed drove me to say, hoping to divert her mind—

"By this time, Mat will have brought your fawn."

"How kind of you to take such pains! But my fawn it is not, since your money purchased it from the hunters."

"Honour me by acceptance of it, then."

"A trifle additional to my life. With pleasure. I did not understand perfectly why the man would not take my coin. Said he not something of witchcraft?"

"Only an idle word. The ruffian spoke in amazement that the fawn had taken refuge at your feet."

"It was wonderful to me; the more so that I had never seen such a creature in my life. We have no deer in the Netherlands."

"You are from the Netherlands?"

"My father"—looking fondly and proudly toward the old man, who was deep in a book—"until three years ago, was not the least famous professor in the University of Leyden, the intimate friend of the great Oldenbarneveldt, and of the renowned Van Groot."

"My good old tutor, Mr. Butharwick, will hasten to pay his respect to Doctor Goel. He calls Grotius the second and greater Erasmus, lamp-bearer of learning, the glory of Europe, and I know not what besides."

Mistress Goel turned to her father, and spoke to him in their own tongue, mighty well pleased, as I guessed, to tell him that an admirer of his friend lived so near. The doctor drew himself up in his chair, his wrinkled face transfigured by a radiant smile. His daughter continued—

"My father's enemies, envious of his learning and repute, laid accusation against him of being privy to the conspiracy to murder Prince Maurice. He was thrown into prison at the same time as his friend. Not to prolong my tale to tedious length, he escaped to France. We left Paris three months ago for London, where he met an old acquaintance, Vermuijden by name, who is about to begin great drainage-works in this part of the country, as you probably know."

"He was about to do so," I answered; "but the scheme has come to nothing. The highest court of law in England has made void the King's grant to Vermuijden."

"A court of law has annulled a royal decree!" she exclaimed.

"It is even so," I replied. "The laws of England are not to be overridden at the King's will."

Hereupon followed much converse between father and daughter, of which I made out no more than that they were greatly astonished and in doubt, as if my news had deeply concerned themselves.

Their colloquy ended, Mistress Goel asked me many questions, prompted by the doctor, respecting the rights of the Commoners and their opposition to the drainage of the Isle, repeating my answers to her father, who seemed much disquieted thereby. Hitherto, he had believed that the scheme met with favour from all the inhabitants, excepting some few of the baser sort, and I gathered that he had invested money in the purchase of shares in an undertaking which he supposed to be of unquestioned public advantage, and likely to yield no small gain to the participants.

His anxiety was somewhat relieved when he heard that the Commoners had no rights in the King's Chace at Hatfield, which formed part of the area under Vermuijden's plan.

Suddenly remembering that I had overstaid the limits of decorum and of kindness, Mistress Goel suffering as she must be, I rose to take leave.

"You will not forget to bring your friend to see my father," said she, flushing a little, or so I fancied.

As I withdrew into the common room, Lord Sheffield entered by the front door, and gave order in his imperious style to the obsequious hostess that his presence should be signified to Doctor Goel. He and I exchanged the distant bow of ceremony, for there was no love lost between us two. His ten-years younger brother, Edmund, and I had been dear comrades until Edmund's death; and, indeed, my hatred of the elder grew out of my love for the younger, to whom my Lord Sheffield behaved ever with bitterness and cruelty. Not caring to remain in the same room with "my Lord Arrogancy," as we of the Isle were wont to call him, I went out into the yard to bid Mat bring my horse, and, as Mat had many questions to ask concerning the treatment of the fawn, some time passed before Trueboy was led out of stable. Just as I lifted foot to stirrup, his lordship came out of the back door, toying with his sword. It was one of his whims, or part of his cowardice, never to go unarmed.

"You have a good horse, Master Frank," said he.

I nodded, knowing that he had not come out to praise my horse.

"If you should want a purchaser for him, I would make you a bid," he continued.

"I have no present purpose of selling him," I replied.

"No immediate purpose, but when your father has flung away his patrimony in suits at law against the King, you may be glad to know of a buyer, who will give you your price."

"When that event befalls, I will remember your lordship's promise."

"Do. My friends, Doctor Goel and his fair daughter, tell me you have been exceedingly kind in bribing a rabble crew to call off their dogs from the lady. Pray accept my thanks. It will give you comfort to know that she will not again be exposed to annoyance by the scoundrels of the neighbourhood. To-morrow they remove to our poor castle of Butterwick."

I bowed an acknowledgment of his information, mounted, and rode away. A heedless rider I was, leaving Trueboy to choose the manner of our going. I saw nothing but, now the pale face with steadfast look confronting the threatening crowd, now the face aflush with tender pity, now the arch-light in the brown eyes as she talked with me in the room. And this was one of our invaders! A conquering invader, right surely! A Dutchwoman! Nay, an angel!

How flowingly and trippingly she spoke our English tongue! How divinely she endured her pain! How daintily she mingled raillery and sweetness! No such woman had ever lived on earth before. And one day she could call me Frank, and be my own. Some foreboding that my father and I might be divided by my love, I felt, but none the less determined that she should be mine. That sneering villain, Sheffield, had marked her as his prey, but I had no fear of him. She would know him for the libertine and coward that he was. Why had he told me that to-morrow she would be removed to his father's house? Ten to one, he lied to me, perhaps that he might hinder me from going to the White Hart again. Ha, ha, what a thrice sodden fool to think that! Or it might be that he had some other mischief in his head. Whatever it might be, I would be too strong for him.

For all the way I rode there rang in my ears to the sweetest tune, "You will not forget to bring your friend to see my father." No, I should not forget. To-morrow, early, I would bring my friend.

How long, long ago is it since that bright day of May? And I remember all I felt, and thought better than I remember yesterday.

CHAPTER II

On the morrow I appeared at breakfast in silken stockings, new doublet and hose, new shoes, with roses and strings of the latest fashion, Flemish ruff and cuffs, and cloak of tawny velvet. My man, Luke Barnby, stared at my gaudy apparel; and, when I bade him have Trueboy and the old, white mare at the door within half an hour, and to bring me my Milanese rapier, he answered surlily—

"Which 'tis the first time I've heard of otter-hunting with swords, or in Sunday clothes."

I had clean forgotten the big otter hunt! This spring the otters were more numerous than any man remembered them, and they were making havoc among the salmon in Trent. This was the day appointed for the meet at Temple Belwood, when all Belton and Beltoft were to assemble and make a great riddance of the vermin. And I, the host and master of the hunt, had clean forgotten the business! To fail to be at my post would raise an outcry among our neighbours, and might bring me severe censure from my father, but to postpone the visit to Doctor and Mistress Goel was not to be thought of. I had my doubts whether the young lady could be removed so soon as Sheffield had threatened; but there was a chance that it might happen, and then farewell to the hope of seeing her for Heaven only knew how long. That was unendurable, so I wrote a few lines to a neighbour, begging him to assume my place, and not to spare the Temple ale or wine-cellar.

"Hark ye, Luke," said I; "put this into the hands of Squire Mell, of Beltoft, with haste. Mr. Butharwick and I have pressing business at Crowle."

When Mr. Butharwick and I sat down to breakfast, he to his usual mess of hot barley-water, sweetened with sugar and thickened with bread—he having no stomach of a morning for steak and ale, and marrow-pudding he abhorred—I saw that he had something on his mind, and was in no such jovial humour as last evening, when he had been joyous in prospect of meeting a scholar and a friend of his idolized Grotius. At last he broke silence with—

"Frank, it will be wise to defer this visit to Crowle. The town is ruled by Scorpio, and in thy horoscope Scorpio was occupied by Mars in affliction. To-day a malefic is transiting the place of Mars."

"Terms of art are thrown away on me," I answered. "Who should know that so well as you?"

"Crowle is always unlucky for you," said Mr. Butharwick.

"Truly, my horse once fell there, and once I came to disgrace for snoring under a sermon by Uncle Graves; but other mischance I cannot remember. Yet I have gone thither—how many? say, a thousand times."

"Do not jest with the Heavens, boy," said Mr. Butharwick, sternly.

And, indeed, at any other time I should have been far from jesting, for my tutor was marvellously skilled in astrology, but this day the longing to see Mistress Goel's bright face made me defiant of the stars. Mindful, however, that my good tutor had been rereading my horoscope, and anew consulting the heavens on my behalf, I replied—

"Pardon me, but the worst luck that could befall me at Crowle to-day would be to find that Doctor Goel and his daughter had left the place before we arrived. And we are to keep our word, are we not, though the stars be never so unfavourable?"

In the end Mr. Butharwick was persuaded much against his will to countenance our going, but not until I had put on my topaz ring, and engaged to use the prayer appointed for Times of War and Tumult. Assuredly, no prince of the blood had ever more fonder faithful counsellor than I in my tutor, but I chafed much at his delay and over great precaution.

The old mare was covered with foam when we drew rein at the inn door, and her rider fain to be out of saddle, for Mr. Butharwick was no keen horseman. The hostess led us into her best room, where the doctor received us with distant stateliness, and his daughter with sweet courtesy. After introduction of Mr. Butharwick I left the clerkly men to entertain themselves, which they were well able to do, having Latin for their common tongue, and, as it seemed by the noise they made, an infinite deal to say to each other.

I had thought Mistress Goel lovely when she was in pain and disarray, and her form partly hidden by the long cloak she wore on our first meeting; but now, wearing a gown which fitted her slim body closely to the waist, with her shining brown hair neatly coiled and folded, and in ease and gaiety of heart, as her pleasant smiling showed, I thought—no, I did not think, I was overcome with love and felt that all the high fantastic words and deeds of lovers, at which I had laughed hitherto, were too tame for the height of my passion and worship. When I found my tongue, I asked particularly of her health.

"My hurts are healed, or will soon be healed," she assured me. "Leyden is famous for its leechcraft, and my father is—or was—the best physician there. We go to-day to Castle Mulgrave."

"But you cannot ride so far," I objected.

"We are to be carried in a litter, which the earl sends for us."

The old nobleman had, I then remembered, a litter in which he was conveyed about the Isle when gout forbade horsemanship.

"You know the earl?" I asked.

"He did us the honour to pay us some attention, when we were in London."

I wondered what might underlie this, for the earl was one of the proudest men in England, and not likely to care for the sorrows of an exiled doctor.

"Did you make the acquaintance of Lord Sheffield in town?" I asked.

"Yes; he had the condescension to be our cicerone there."

The tone in which Mistress Goel pronounced the word "condescension" had soothing for my jealousy.

"How long do you remain at Castle Mulgrave?" I asked.

"I do not know; perhaps until Mynherr Vermuijden appears. We go because Lord Sheffield has alarmed my father, warning him of danger in our continuing here. And our hostess is relieved of some strange uneasiness by our going."

My mind was filled with apprehension, which I could not express. That Sheffield should do an act of pure kindness was incredible. His foul pursuit of beauty was a byword in the Isle, and there were fathers, brothers, and lovers, who were held back from murderous revenge only by terror of the old earl, who had long been President of the Council of the North, and consequently held unlimited authority over the common people of Axholme. Even that fear might not have restrained some, but Sheffield, as I have said, always went armed and attended, and had a host of spies in his pay. But how could I speak of Sheffield's vileness to this maiden shining in her purity?

The door flew open, and Dame Hind announced: "His lordship, my lord Sheffield." From the plumes in his beaver, fastened with glistering stones, to his riding boots, richly lined with lace, he was dressed with splendour. The courtly grace with which he doffed his hat and bowed filled me with envy. When he had saluted Mistress Goel and her father, he told them that the litter awaited their pleasure, and then greeted me with affected surprise.

"I' faith, Master Frank, I took you for some London gallant. One is used to meet you ready for the chase. Vavasour is a mighty hunter, you must know," said he to Mistress Goel. "He hath no fellow in the art of cutting a stag's throat, or spearing an otter."

Noting the slight shudder of disgust, which he had caused by so artfully discommending me, he went on—

"In the Netherlands you have pastimes more refined than our English sports. I say 'our,' though I take no pleasure in them."

"It is true you are no hunter, but you are a skilful trapper, my lord: cunning in bait and lure and bird-call," I answered.

One glance at Sheffield's face, white with rage, showed Mistress Goel that more was meant than met the ear. She stepped back nearer to the two old men, who were so deep in some question of learning that they were loth to part, and oblivious of every thing but their disputation.

"You cowardly cur," said Sheffield. "You know that you are safe from horse-whip in this presence."

"Safe from horse-whip anywhere in your hand, unless you had four or five to help you."

Threat and defiance passed in whisper almost, but our looks were fierce enough, as we stood close together, eyes pretty nearly level, for Sheffield had not more than an inch advantage over my five feet ten. He was the first to recover himself, saying—

"Your ill-timed jests would provoke a Stoic."

Then he turned to Doctor Goel, who had suddenly become aware that he detained his lordship and his train unseemlily, and a movement was made. Not until the lady and her father were in the litter, borne on the shoulders of four stout fellows in the Mulgrave livery, and the escort mounted and ready to set off, had I speech with Mistress Goel, and that no more than formal leave-taking, save that when her little hand lay for a moment in my big paw, I touched it lightly with my lips. She withdrew it quickly, but I saw no displeasure in her eyes. Sheffield put his blackamoor in charge of the litter and its attendants, and promising to overtake the party speedily, rode with two of his men in the opposite direction.

Mr. Butharwick and I re-entered the inn, a dull hole now, that had been lately so bright, and called for a cup of wine, which Dame Hind brought us, and, setting hands on hips, gave vent to her feelings.

"The ease it is to my mind that they are gone, nobody knows. No more foreign mounseers and madams for the White Hart. Good English meat they wouldn't have; but she makes a mess with eggs and scraps—pudding you couldn't call it. And he gathers dandelion and dock-cress and goosefoot, and the like o' that, which she cooks 'em, or he mixes 'em wi' oil, and eats 'em raw. It turned my stomach to see it. And their manners wasn't English. Too civil by half. 'If you please,' and 'May I trouble you?' and 'Would you be so good?' whenever she wanted anything. Didn't grumble or make a fuss about the reckoning—that I will say for her. Then their jabber-jabber between themselves! It give me the creeps to hear 'em. Such a clat as he made wi' dirt, and stones, and weeds, and rubbish, which schoolmaster says wizards and witches always do; and he had a big book full of gipsy-marks, which young madam called his brewing Bible; and, believe me or believe me not, he read it back'ards way, as 'tis well beknown witches do read the Lord's Prayer so, when they want to raise the devil. Schoolmaster he says they are both deep in witchcraft, and young madam worse than the old mounseer, for all her prettiness and her smooth-spoken ways. And certain sure it is that she gave Mat something to drink that cured him of the ague quicker than ever he was cured afore."

As soon as Dame Hind paused for breath, Mr. Butharwick reproved her. Doctor Goel, he assured her, was a man of great learning, of perfect integrity, and the intimate friend of the best and greatest man in the world.

I broke in, hotly indignant that Mistress Goel should be accused of so foul a crime. We might have spared our breath, for the hostess replied by shaking her head sorrowfully, and declaring her assurance that we were both bewitched. So saying, she swung out of the room, and left us to our wine. I had tried to remove the suspicion of the woman, gross and ignorant though she was, fearing that her tongue might work mischief, and now began to pluck some comfort out of the removal of my lady to Castle Mulgrave, where she would be in safety from the fury of folk always ruthless against one believed to be guilty of witchcraft.

It is no wonder that the people should be fierce against those who ally themselves with the enemy of mankind, but their terror often blinds them to evident tokens of innocence, and I cannot but be afraid that many persons have suffered torture and death who were falsely accused of the monstrous wickedness. Perhaps I have been led to think so only because the crime was laid to the charge of one so pure and kind as Mistress Goel.

Before the day of my coming of age the Isle was in great commotion, for a large fleet had sailed up the Don, bringing an army of Walloons and Dutchmen with stores of timber, and tools, and weapons, and machines unknown to us Islonians. The invaders had their headquarters at Sandtoft, where Vermuijden set about the building of houses and the erection of fortifications, keeping relays of workmen busy day and night. How to reconcile these doings with the letter received from my father I could not in the least understand, but I took credit to myself for keeping silence concerning the decision of the court in my father's favour. That was far from being my father's opinion, when he arrived on the Friday evening, and learned that Vermuijden had already begun his operations.

"Thou foolish lad!" he broke out. "Should'st have ridden through the whole Isle, and set every hamlet aglow with bonfires and shouting for joy. And would'st have done it but for scraping acquaintance with that old rascal and his daughter at the White Hart. Hast lost thy five wits? What devil possessed thee to miss the otter-hunt, and to annoy our neighbours and shame thy father? Befriending the refugee, conspirator, assassin, when should'st have been heartening our people! And that dotard Butharwick with thee! He shall pack out of my house."

This explosion astounded me, for my father, though of warm temper in private (in public no man had more self-control), did not often use such fiery language to me; but I answered sulkily—

"I am sorry to have angered you, sir, by what I supposed was discretion."

"Discretion!" he almost shouted. "Would that you had the smallest tincture of the quality! Is it discreet, think you, to parley with the enemy of your father and your country, betraying God only knows what to the sly old Dutchman?"

"A most inoffensive old gentleman," I answered. "A simple scholar, who has been duped by Vermuijden."

My father laughed bitterly. "You simpleton! Does Mulgrave make much of 'simple scholars' and entertain them?"

As I believed, Earl Mulgrave cared little or nothing about Doctor Goel, while Sheffield, I felt sure, cared much about the doctor's daughter, but this was not the time to offer my father an explanation, which would bring in the name of Mistress Goel, so I left him to digest his wrath, and sought Mr. Butharwick. I found him in much affliction, for to hurt or offend his friend and patron was very grievous to him. He blamed himself alone for all the mischief, and he reminded me that my father had had a weary sojourn in London, and after infinite trouble and pains had won his cause, only to find on his return home that all his labour and expenditure had been rendered null and void.

"What wonder, Frank," said the good old soul, "that thy father should be angry, even if not quite justly angry, that nothing has been made known of his triumph in the courts? What wonder that he should be incensed at our making friends with those who, he believes, are in the counsel of his enemies, and whom he has seen caressed by the crafty earl? We are in fault, or rather, I am in fault, for I ought to have guided thee more wisely. I, at least, ought to have been sure that the stars of heaven cannot lie."

This womanish babble did not soothe my ruffled temper, as I told Mr. Butharwick, rudely enough. My father had treated me with indignity and injustice, and I did well to be angry. So I went for a stroll in the park, seeking consolation in solitary communion with Nature, where it has seldom failed me. Nor did it fail me now. Sauntering under the dense shadows of the old trees, or out in the dim stillness of the open sward, startling browsing or drowsing beasts, which showed as dusky shapes for a moment, and then vanished in the dark, I grew quiet; and when I gained the highest ground and saw the low moon and her long reflection on the broad expanse of water, I was filled with confidence that my own prospect was as bright and boundless as the scene on which I looked.

I turned at the sound of footsteps, and recognised my father.

"The cool night air is good for hot heads, young or old," he said. And we walked homeward together.

CHAPTER III

My good comrade, Dick Portington, was the first of our guests to arrive at Temple on the 28th of May, and he brought me as birthday gift a gun such as I had not before seen, the cock containing a flint, which, as it fell, struck sparks from the cover of the pan, and at the same moment forced back the cover so that the sparks flew on the priming. The action was far quicker than that of the matchlock, and much surer than the wheel-lock guns which I had hitherto handled, and I had great pleasure in it, and a brace of pistols made after the same pattern.

"'Tis the rarest present, Dick," I said, "but you shame me. Another gift! And I have never given you anything."

"Say nothing of that, man," answered he. "I am older than thou, and the squire is free with his money. I have what I want for the asking. Besides, to-day you come to riches, and may spend and give as you like."

Dick's allusion was to an understanding between my father and me, that when I came of age certain properties in Beltoft, which were part of my mother's dower, should be made over to me. I had freely spoken of this to my friend, and in truth, looked forward eagerly to the enjoyment of means of my own, for my father had allowed me less money than men of his rank were accustomed to allow their sons. He was no niggard in providing me things suitable to our station, but I had never much money in my purse, so that I held aloof from companionship with other young fellows except Dick, who knew my plight, and often listened to my talk of the brave doings which were to follow my possession of an estate of some ninety pounds a year. To-day we had scant opportunity for conversation, as our humbler neighbours came early, with full intent to enjoy merry pastimes and good cheer; nor were the gentry and farmers late, since all were keenly expectant of news and advice from their "Solicitor." Ladies and gentlemen on horseback, a few ladies who preferred dignity in a jolting coach to ease in the saddle, farmers' wives on pillion behind their husbands, labourers, marshmen, and fowlers, with their women-folk, afoot, made the spacious park a lively scene. Our stables were soon filled, and many horses had to be tethered in the paddock. By good luck, the day was cloudless, and the wind soft, almost still.

Our guests betook them to various sports until dinner-time. The great bowling-green was crowded with jostling, laughing bowlers; the archery ground afforded amusement to many competitors, for our Islonians are skilful in the use of the long-bow and cross-bow; parties were gathered for cricket, balloon, quoits, nine-pins, and leaping the bar. Some of the lads and lasses began at once to trip it to fiddle and pipe and tabour. Many of the older folk were content to stand or sit and watch a set of morris dancers, or filled the booth where a company of strolling players performed a blood-curdling tragedy and a side-splitting farce well within the hour. A group surrounded Bet Boswell, a gypsy lass, whom our Beltonians knew from the long stay which her tribe had made with us, and more than one young farmer had fallen over head and ears in love with her. She was a tall, lithe creature, boldly handsome, with that roguish look in her dark eyes which passes away with the coming of Love. To-day she told fortunes by the palm and with the crystal. As Dick and I joined the group, the moonstruck gaping of some of the rustics proved that Bet was doing her business skilfully.

"Here be young squire," said one. "Tell him his fortune."

The rest echoed the fellow, and falling in with their humour, I said—

"Come then, Bess. Let me hear my fate;" offering her sixpence.

"Not now," she answered, refusing the coin with a wave of her hand. "Your destiny trembles in the balance to-day."

"How so, oracular sybil?" I asked, laughing, but a little impressed by the gravity of her look and tone.

"Before you sleep, you will lose a fortune, and be offered another," she said.

"How I can lose what I have not, I do not understand," I replied; "but of a certainty I shall take one, if it be offered me."

"If you are wise, you will," said Bess, and turned from me as having no more to say.

At the instant, the ringing of a bell and blowing of a horn called those of our guests to dinner who were to take their repast under tents and awnings in the park, and I joined my father to make the round of the tables, where huge joints of beef and mutton, piles of Trent salmon and larded capons, and the like substantial viands, were rapidly disappearing, washed down with copious draughts of strong October, to which were added for the yeomen farmers brandy, wine, mead, and aqua vitæ.

When we had seen that all were faring merrily, and had nodded and smiled acknowledgment of the cheers for "the Solicitor," and for "the heir of Temple Belwood," we joined the company assembling in the hall, and thence with proper ceremony to the ancient dining-room. There the talk ran on Vermuijden and his doings much more than on the rightful hero of the day, and voices rose and tongues wagged faster and faster as the men's glasses were replenished with wine of Burgundy, or Bourdeaux, or Champaign, and the women sipped hock and Bacharach and sherris.

My left-hand neighbour at table was Mistress Emma Ryther, a buxom girl, with great ox-eyes that never changed. She was accounted one of the beauties of the Isle, and indeed as a piece of flesh and blood she was pretty enough. I scarcely knew whether I liked or misliked her, for her manner to me seemed to betoken that she expected me to whistle, and was ready to come. Perhaps there would have been no more than a toss-up between liking and misliking, since I had that conceit in my head, if I had never seen the divine beauty which shines from the soul. Having seen that, Mistress Ryther was to me but a well-painted figure in porcelain. While she babbled nothings to me, I wondered that I could ever have thought otherwise of her than I did to-day. Some perception of my state of mind she showed by saying tartly: "Your head is as full of the Dutch as everybody's."

When dessert was spread, to my astonishment, Mr. Ryther rose to propose the toast of the day. He was not an old friend, or a person of consideration. Some dozen years ago he had been so lucky as to inherit unexpected wealth, and ever since he had devoted himself to increasing his riches, chiefly by lending money on mortgage, and taking every legal advantage of the necessitous borrower. He was a biggish fellow, with a loud voice and pompous manner, and a great hooked nose, which my fingers itched to pull for his impudence. My impatience grew as he went on to speak, lauding my father's public spirit and generosity, taking a tone as if he were the equal of Thomas Vavasour. When he began to talk of me my blood boiled, for he enumerated my good points as though I had been a horse, and he had the selling of me. He wound up by saying that he looked forward to the festivities to come, when the heir of Temple Belwood should bring a beautiful and well-dowered bride to this ancient house. I could have hurled a decanter at the greasy forehead, which he wiped with infinite complacency. I stammered through as much as I could remember of the little speech which I had conned for the occasion, saying as little as might be of the proposer. The ladies withdrew, and the real business of the day began. My father rose to give an account of his proceedings in London, which need not be set down here, as I have put it on record elsewhere. He ended by saying: "The highest court of law in this country has given judgment against Vermuijden, but he continues his illegal action. Persons near to his Majesty have assured the Dutchman of royal protection, and dare to set the King's prerogative above the law. That assertion of prerogative is baseless, and I confidently expect that it will be soon withdrawn. Parliament is at this moment, as you know, taking steps to remove an injurious adviser from the position of authority which he has shamelessly abused. On the removal of the Duke of Buckingham from the counsels of his Majesty, there will doubtless be a change of policy on the part of a nobleman, our neighbour, who has hitherto upheld the Dutchmen in their invasion of our Isle, and the law will prevail. We must not forget that Vermuijden believes that he is in his right, nor that he has paid a very large sum of money for his supposed rights in our soil. We must proceed with strict legality, or we shall put ourselves in the wrong. Allow me to make a personal appeal to every gentleman in this room. I have given my time and, strength and means freely to your service, and I beg that my efforts may not be frustrated by resort to violence of any kind. Let us adhere to the lawful course, and we shall most assuredly be successful in the end."

As my father sat down there was some applause, and a few gentlemen shouted, "Long life to our Solicitor;" but murmurs were heard in several quarters, and Squire Portington, of Thorne, rose to speak.

"Gentlemen," said he, "law and order are all very well, but what about our property? A hundred acres of my best land is under water now through the tomfoolery of these damned Dutchmen. If they go on, they'll drown me and my nearest neighbours out and out. Mighty small consolation it will be to us, if some fine day this Vermuijden has to bow to the law. That won't give us back our farms and our houses. The Law is on our side, but force has the upper hand of the Law. As for Parliament making an end of Buckingham, for anything I can see, he is just as likely to make an end of Parliament. Do you know that the Dutchman swears he has full power to hang anybody who resists him, and has set up a gallows at Sandtoft? It is a fact, gentlemen. We have tasted Prerogative in demand for money which Parliament refused to vote. Prerogative means——"

The gentlemen on either side of Squire Portington dragged him down to his seat, but the squire shook himself free, and got on his legs again.

"My neighbours here are afraid that I shall be brought before the Council of the North for talking treason, and bring them into trouble for listening to it. I didn't suppose that there were any damned spies and informers here. I was saying that the law can't do anything to save us from ruin. So much the worse for the law. But I'm not going to sit quiet while the Dutchmen drown my land and me. My motto is 'Liberty and Property.' If the gentlemen here, or half of 'em, will join me, we'll send Vermuijden three days' notice to quit our land. Of course, he won't take it, but that's his affair. After the three days have expired, we'll go with five hundred stout fellows, and drive the beggars out, kill every man who resists, hang Vermuijden on his own gallows, and sweep the Isle clean of the invaders. That's my way. We will talk of law and order when we have made sure of our liberty and property."

All the young men present, and a number of their elders, rose to their feet, and shouted, "That's sense! Liberty and property! Three Cheers for Squire Portington! Send the Dutchmen to the devil! Hang Vermuijden on his own gallows! There's Scripture for it. Hurrah!"

These and similar cries made a deafening hubbub. Filled with wine, and stirred by Portington's harangue, our guests forgot decorum entirely, and made such a tumult as encouraged the common sort to crowd about the doorway, and add their voices to the cheers for "Liberty and Property" and the cry of "Down with the Dutch."

Conspicuous among the intruders was Boswell, the father of the girl above mentioned, a notorious poacher, and worse. He had edged far into the room and struck me as being all eyes and ears. I sprang to my feet, and bade the rabble clear out, which they did pretty quickly. My father seized the opportunity afforded by the slight lull which followed to dissuade his friends from violence; declaring that if there was not good prospect of remedy by lawful means within three months, he himself would lead in defence of our just and legal rights by the strong hand.

The pledge was hailed with loud shouts of approval and the draining of many glasses in his honour; but there ensued a great buzz of talk, during which men left their seats to be within earshot of this or that speaker, so that the company broke up into separate knots, some listening to the one they took for an oracle, others talking all at once, and hearkening only to the sound of their own voices. There was an end of all orderly counsel for that time.

Late in the evening, when the festivities were over, and the guests departed, my father explained that the reason why he had not handed me the deeds of the Beltoft land was that he had been compelled to mortgage it, owing to his outlay in defence of the rights of the Isle Commoners. I answered that I thought it hard my little property should have been chosen to bear the costs of litigation; some other portion of the estate might have borne them. Whereupon my father amazed and confounded me by saying that more than half the lands of Temple Belwood were already mortgaged. For some time I was dumb with astonishment, and stood staring. At length I burst out—

"Why should our estate bear all the cost of these proceedings? Surely every Commoner ought to pay his share."

"Thou art somewhat hasty, Frank," my father replied, "to call Temple Belwood our estate. If I chose to spend in defence of the rights of the Islonians, my son has no authority to call me to account."

"Is it your pleasure," I asked, "that I should go to the plough-tail to-morrow?"

"Don't talk like a fool, boy."

"I became a man to-day, sir."

"Discretion limps behind old Father Time, it seems."

I suppressed the easy retort, and my father continued—

"If you have not your father's public mind, I am sorry; but your private interests are safe enough, and Temple Belwood will be yours without encumbrance on a single acre."

Again I was amazed and mute.

"Ryther is engaged to return the deeds to you on the day you wed his daughter."

Now I understood mysteries; Ryther's insolence at dinner, for one, and his daughter's manner, for another. My father had squandered money in a business which was no more his than that of any gentleman in the Isle, assured that all damage to the estate would be repaired by this absurd covenant of marriage. The Vavasour patrimony was lost, and all the ceremony and merrymaking of the day had been in honour of the heir of—Nothing.

The state of things was maddening and yet laughable, and laughter would have its way. I shook with it.

"What in the world is there to laugh at?" shouted my father.

"God knows, I don't," I answered, still laughing.

It was my father's turn to be astonished. He gazed doubtfully at me until my fit was over. Then he said—

"You have taken too much wine. We will speak of this business when sleep has sobered you." And he went off to bed.

I was coward enough to be glad of the respite, foreseeing that my father's grief and anger would be hard to bear, when he knew that I would wed no woman on earth but Anna Goel.

CHAPTER IV

I could not now set down all that passed between my father and me on the marriage, which he designed for me; nor would I, if I could, for I said much that even to-day makes my ears burn to remember, and he some things which are better forgotten. I believe he was the hotter with me that he did not in his heart like the alliance which he proposed, and was obliged to do violence to his own feelings in urging it upon me. We ended in anger, and were estranged the one from the other. For some time we did not feel the full painfulness of this, by reason of my father's occupation with the affairs of the Isle, which took him much abroad, and brought many visitors and messengers to Temple Belwood when he was at home.

While he was busied with these matters, I haunted the neighbourhood of Castle Mulgrave in hope of chance encounter with Mistress Goel. The distance between the two houses was not much more than three miles. Sometimes I rowed my boat down the Nolffdyke, and so into Trent, when I hoisted sail, and beat up and down the river on the look-out for the earl's pleasure barge. At other times I rode by the causey which crossed the marsh extending from Beltoft to the Butterwick ferry, and scoured the roads and lanes on the other side of the river. My quest brought me but one glimpse of my lady. Once, as I gained a slight eminence on the eastern bank, I saw her with a party entering the courtyard of the castle—on horseback! She had learned to ride since I had last spoken with her, and I ground my teeth thinking of who had taught her, and of the mounting and dismounting, and all the occasions which the tutor had to touch hand and foot, even it might be to take her in his arms. How I hated Sheffield! And, for the time, I almost hated Mistress Goel, too.

The day after this maddening sight, Dick Portington came to Temple with news which at another time would have mightily stirred me. Hatfield Chace was to be disparked. The deer were to be driven and caught, to be taken away and distributed in other of the royal forests. When the Chace had been cleared, Vermuijden might fell timber, drain off the waters, and allot the land.

"No more winding of the horn, no more following of the deer, my boy," said Dick. "We ought to see the last stag hunt in Hatfield. And there may be other sport besides the driving of the deer. So come along."

"What manner of sport?" I asked.

"You know how many of our fellows in Thorne and Crowle reckon the Chace as much their domain as the King's. They are not over well-pleased to lose their venison, or their pastime. Moonlight nights will be dull when there's no more stalking of the King's game, or chance to warm one's blood in a fight with his keepers."

"You speak feelingly, Dick," said I, laughing.

"Ay, that do I," he answered. "But the fowlers and fishers take it worse than I do. A fat buck once in a while is worth much to a poor man. There will be sullen faces looking on to-day."

"But the foresters will be too strong for assault," I replied.

"May be so. But hark you, boy, Vermuijden and some of his people are to meet a party from old Mulligrubs' to-day at the Crown, the more fools they."

This news set my pulse going. What so likely as that Doctor Goel and his daughter would be present at a meeting between the earl (whom it was Dick's whim to misname Mulligrubs) and the Dutch leader? And if there should be trouble brewing, the more reason that a friend should be at hand. So I answered—

"Have with you, then!"

But there was not a horse in the stable at the time, except the old white mare. Luke had ridden Trueboy to Haxey, and the rest were galloping on my father's errands. When I said so to Dick, he answered—

"Why wait for a horse? Get stilts for us both, and we'll cross the marsh to Messic Mere, and take one of Holmes's boats. With this wind we can fly up Idle as fast we could ride round."

So we did. Walking to Belshaw, we mounted our stilts there, and were quickly across the fen. The long, dry weather had made it passable for those who knew the shallows and the lie of the ridges, if they had skill with the stilts, and few Islonians had more than Portington and I. We took boat at Holmes's, and then sped up the river merrily, Dick with the sheet in his hand, I steering. It was right pleasant going, with the wind rustling and whistling among the reeds on either bank, the water hissing and rippling from the prow, as we wound along narrow lanes of water, and out into wide spaces where the fowls, startled by our coming, made off, flapping and screaming, or scuttled in among the sedges and bulrushes. One never has the feeling of being away and apart from the rest of the world, I think, quite so much anywhere else as in lonely water-ways, and we two sat silently enjoying the quiet of the scene for a while. At length Dick spoke—

"D'ye know, Frank, that it is part of Vermuijden's scheme to stop the Idle?"

"I don't take," I answered.

"He plans to cut off the river at the Nottingham border—has begun cutting the drain which is to turn the water into Trent."

"Is he empowered to pull down churches that he may use the stones to embank his drains?" I asked; for to me it appeared sacrilege to dry up our rivers and streams.

"Doubtless he might do that, if he would pay money enough into the empty exchequer," replied Dick; "and for a trifle more he might have royal authority to dig up our ancestors' bones, and burn them for the lime he could get out of 'em."

Before we reached Tudworth, Squire Portington's place, a noise in the distance told us that the driving of the deer had begun; and, as soon as might be, we were in the saddle and on our way into the forest, guided by the sound of shouting men and barking dogs. For some time we rode on, neither meeting nor seeing any one. The course of the drivers seemed to be winding away from us. Suddenly, as we emerged from the shadow of a thickish grove, we saw in the open before us a doe and her fawn standing in a stream, drinking. Behind them were some of the finest oaks in the Chace, magnificent in the splendour of mid-June foliage. My friend drew rein, and cursed all Dutchmen with a vehemence that might have provoked laughter from a cooler companion.

"Think of it, Frank," he said. "Not a buck to be left! These trees to be cut down! No more music of hound and horn!"

How long Dick might have cursed and lamented, I know not, but for the coming of a verderer, who told us that the beaters had orders to drive toward Thorne Mere, and that we had best ride in that direction, if we desired to see the taking of the deer. So we hastened northward instead of following the army of keepers, and made for the rising ground above the mere, where we found a great crowd of gentle and simple already gathered.

In a short time an immense herd burst from the covert of the wood, followed by a multitude of men and dogs. Nearly all the deer took to the water, and then were pursued by a hundred or more boats. A few took refuge on islets here and there, and some swam right across the mere, but far the greatest number huddled together, terrified and exhausted, in water up to their necks. The fellows in the boats surrounded the little forest of horns, and some ventured amongst them, and tying a strong, long rope to their heads, dragged them to land, and bundled them into carts, or tethered them for ease of driving whither they were to be handed over to the keepers of other forests. To me it was a sorry sight, and one of which I soon tired. So, leaving Dick with some of his cronies, and a promise to meet at the Crown in a couple of hours' time, I made my way at once to the inn, in hope to glean some knowledge from the people there of the company expected.

Turning a sharp corner of the lane pretty quickly, I almost ran over a lady coming along the causey in the opposite direction. As I drew up, I perceived that it was Mistress Goel. There was a little difficulty in forcing my steed into the wide ditch; but that done, I dismounted, and made my salutation, saying something of my pleasure in meeting her.

"My pleasure was somewhat dashed by fear of being knocked down," said she. "Is it customary in this country for horsemen to keep the path, and drive foot passengers into the ditch?"

"Your riding-master must have taught you so much," I answered.

"And how come you to know I have had lessons?"

"By seeing how well you ride."

The lady made me a little bow. I thought I read a question in her eyes, but it did not pass her lips.

"May I accompany you to—wherever you are going?" I inquired.

"I shall be glad of your guidance. I came out to breathe the air only. There is an hour to be passed before we leave, and the inn is crowded and noisy."

During that hour I learned several things, which I will set down briefly. It had been reported at Castle Mulgrave that my father had vowed to expel the Dutch by force, that a quantity of new firearms had been bought and stored at Temple for the purpose, and that an attack on the settlement was to take place immediately. The earl had informed the King of this (supposed) state of affairs, and had received promise of indemnity for any action he might see fit to take in defence of the foreigners, and been empowered to arrest, imprison, or to question suspected persons. Doctor Goel had been warned of the danger of removal to Sandtoft, but had preferred, for some reason not given to me, to run the risk rather than prolong his stay at the castle. As the doctor proved unmovable on this point, the earl had ordered an armed escort to attend him and his daughter to Thorne, and had advised Vermuijden to bring a strong company to meet them.

Here was much food for reflection, but the pressing business was to prevent mischief now and here. Was it purely by forgetfulness, I wondered, that the earl had appointed to-day, when hundreds of the Islonians were present for the driving of the deer, and might be provoked to riot by seeing a body of foreigners bearing arms.

On our way back to the Crown, Mistress Goel asked—

"Could you persuade your father to meet Mynherr Vermuijden? Surely they two, desiring only what is just and right, might come to a good understanding. There are those who seek to inflame the trouble, I know, and I tremble to think of what may come. Could you persuade Mr. Vavasour?"

I laughed, rather bitterly. "Unluckily, my father would not listen to me."

"I gathered from what you told me that you were as happy as father and son can be."

"So we were, but there is division between us now."

"Not on our account, I hope!"

"Nay, it is but a family quarrel of an ancient pattern."

No more passed, for we were at the inn; a long, low house, with a green in front, where some scores of men sat or sprawled, drinking ale and loud in talk, but keeping a watchful eye on the doings at the tavern. Two dozen men, or thereabout, in the Mulgrave colours, armed with muskets and cutlasses, stood near the porch; an equal number of Dutchmen, pistols in belt and gun in hand, sat on empty barrels, pails turned bottom upward, hen-coops, anything. The Islonians on the green were for the most part unarmed, except for the staff and big knife, without which our men never stir from home, but here and there a cross-bow was to be seen. Within the house, at one of the open windows, sat several young fellows of my acquaintance, Dick Portington among them, merry over their wine. No likelihood of disturbance, thought I, the crowd being in good humour, and the Mulgrave retinue and the Dutch having such advantage in the matter of weapons. But as Mistress Goel disappeared within the doorway, and I turned to lead my horse to the stable, two of the earl's men happened to put down their guns, leaning them against the wall. In a twinkling, Dick reached out of the window, and seized them. "Ale or wine, gentlemen?" he asked, as if he were a tapster. And full in sight of the crowd he emptied a tankard into the muzzles, and handed the weapons out again. "Any other gentleman want a barrelful?" he inquired. A roar of laughter came from the green. One of the two men drew pistol from belt, and made as if to fire at Dick, but I, being just behind him, knocked up his elbow, and the pistol flew out of his hand without hurt. Another roar from the spectators filled the air. Some of the Mulgrave men threw themselves on me, gripping me by the arms, and one struck me in the face. Then I, who had been so intent on prudence and peace-making, lost my wits, swung myself free from my captors, and knocked down the man who had struck me. A pretty scuffle ensued. Dick and others sprang out of the window, and came to my help with no weapons, but clenched fists and a riding whip or two. For a minute or so the struggle went on at close quarters, so that the earl's men could not use their weapons with effect, and their comrades, outside the mellay, could not strike or fire without risk of killing or maiming their own men; but at the words, "Shoot, you dolts, shoot," spoken by some one I did not see, several pieces were discharged. Will Staniforth, who was close to me, fell, blood pouring from his neck. I knelt to support him, but he was past help. The bullet had ploughed a horrible gash upward, and entered the brain. There was a gurgle in his throat, a shudder went through his whole body, and he was dead. When I rose from my knees, three of my friends had muskets in their hands, Dick Portington being one. The earl's retainers had formed a half circle in front of us, their pieces levelled.

"Yield yourselves, prisoners," said their chief, "or we fire." Dick answered by a shot which brought the speaker to the ground, and a sort of madness came over me. I saw everything through a red haze, and cared for nothing but to avenge our dead companion. I sprang on the nearest of the enemy, tore his musket out of his grasp, and clubbed it, smiting with all my strength. As he fell, I shouted "One," and made for the next, who gave back a little, and fired wild. "Two," I yelled, as my butt crashed on his head. The third man toward whom I rushed, threw his musket down and ran. I glanced round, and saw that every one of our party had possessed himself of a musket, and was using it in the same fashion. The enemy had no time to reload; six of their fellows were disabled, including their leader; they had no stomach for more fighting hand to hand, and so, though they were more than two to one, they turned tail and ran for their lives. But being clumsy rascals, they had small chance of escape from us by that means, and were glad to obey the order which Dick bellowed as we chased them, to throw down their weapons. Guns, pistols, cutlasses, all were discarded. Even then, I still pursued until Portington laid hold of me.

"Poor devils are unarmed, Frank. Let 'em go," he said.

At that, I came to my senses, and turned back with the rest. We met a number of the men who had come from the green to pick up the spoils of war.

"Fine fellows you are," said Dick to some of them, "to stand and look on while your neighbours are maltreated."

"As far as I can see, squire," answered a fat fellow (the same mentioned in the first chapter), "you were able to take care of yourselves, and you must excuse poor men, who don't want to go to the gallows or the Virginia plantations. For the like of us 'tis a hanging matter. For all that, some of the jassups would have run their necks into a halter, if I hadn't insensed 'em."

"Much thanks to you," replied Dick, laughing at the man's cool impudence.

"Besides, your honour," said the fellow in a lower tone, "it behoved some one to keep an eye on the Dutchmen."

"Ah! the Dutchmen. I' faith, I had forgotten them. And what came of your watch, my man?"

"Almost as soon as the fray began, the pretty Dutchwoman came to the window behind 'em, and talked with the big fellow, who seems to be in command. I crept near, but they jabbered in their own tongue. All I could make out was that she repeated 'Fermoyden' three or four times and seemed to be laying down the law to the big chap. Then off she flew, like a bird, and my Lord Sheffield came out of the house in a hurry (it was when young Squire Vavasour was cracking skulls like walnuts) and he ordered the Dutchmen to go to the help of his men, but the big captain shook his head, and either did not understand or pretended that he didn't. My lord stamped with rage, and made his meaning plain by signs; but the other wouldn't budge, and repeated 'Fermoyden.' Fermoyden hasn't come yet, and they are waiting for him."

"What do you make of this, Frank? You came to the tavern with the lady."

"That the lady had the wit to charge the Dutch captain not to aid the Mulgrave men, but to refuse under the plea that he must have Vermuijden's authority for interfering in a quarrel which was none of his."

"By Jove, it looks uncommonly like that; and if so, some of us have to thank the lady that we are alive."

Of that I had no manner of doubt. While Dick's ill-timed jest and my hot-headed fury at a blow had brought about a broil which had cost Staniforth's life, and some others, Mistress Goel had prevented conflict between the Dutch and our Islonian crowd. As we turned the corner of the tavern (the pursuit had led us along a heathery track to the rear of it) we met Sheffield and his blackamoor, mounted, and bound apparently for Castle Mulgrave. He drew rein, and snarled—

"Treason and murder are merry sport, doubtless, but it ends in hanging, drawing, and quartering."

Now I knew whose was the voice which said "Shoot, dolts, shoot;" and the feeling which the knowledge stirred in me must have been plain in my face, for Dick linked his arm in mine, and drew me on, saying, loud enough for Sheffield to hear—

"Let the beaten dog yelp."

We bade the tavern-keeper, who met us at his door, provide food and drink, for some of us had not eaten since early morning; and I went in search of water to cleanse myself from blood and dust, not wishing Mistress Goel to see me in my filthy plight. In truth, I shrank from meeting her, for now that my fury and strength were spent, I was ashamed of my blustering rage. But it so chanced as I went to the pump that Mistress Goel overtook me, going to the barn with a basket. At the sound of her light, gliding step, I turned, and she paled at sight of me.

"You are sorely wounded, I fear," she said. "Come to my father, who is in the barn."

"I have nothing worse than a few bruises and scratches," I answered. "For that I have to thank you; your quick wit and kindness have saved several lives to-day."

"I did no more than keep my own people from meddling in strife, which did not concern them; but how you know of it passes my comprehension."

I explained, and then asked what her father did in the barn.

"He is busy repairing heads you have damaged," she replied.

"Two at least are beyond repair, even by his skill," said I.

"Not so," she laughed. "Either your arm is not so terribly strong as it seemed, or Lincolnshire skulls are thicker than ordinary, for my father has good hope of both the men you struck down."

"Thank God!" I said devoutly. "My brutish rage has not killed the rascals."

"Oh! but it was not brutish," cried Mistress Goel, with sparkling eyes; "you sought to avert violence. And that you were roused to great and dreadful wrath by seeing your friend shamefully and traitorously shot down is not brutish. Oh no, another word must be used for that."

How little I knew of woman's ways! I had feared that I had lowered myself in the lady's esteem for ever, and here she stood, looking up at me with dewy eyes, and speaking as if I had done some noble deed.

It would have pleased me well, if our talk might have been continued, but Mistress Goel had to hasten to her father's help, and I returned to my comrades, after having removed the stains of battle, so far as washing might do it. We were not merry over our eating and drinking, for in a room near lay the body of our friend. It was agreed that four of us should accompany the men who bore the remains to Staniforth Hall, and that the other four should ride with the Dutch to Newflete, where they had left their barge. It fell to my lot to be one of the latter company, but small good came of it to me. Doctor Goel walked on one side of the horse which his daughter rode, and the big Dutchman on the other, so I had little converse with her. At parting, her hand lay in mine for a second, and I took some comfort from the kindness in her eyes as she said good night.

When I came to Durkness Crooke, intending to cross the river there, no boat was to be found, and I must needs ride on the river bank to the Crowle Ferry. I went slowly, for my nag was a sorry steed, hired at the Crown, Portington's horse having scampered off to his own stable during the tumult. By the time I passed Beggar's Tree, the evening had grown dusk, and I was startled by a moan from some one half hidden under a champ of birch. It was Bess Boswell, who had sprained her ankle, and begged me to send some of her tribe, whose encampment lay on my road to Temple Belwood, to convey her home. I dismounted, and helped her to my saddle, which she sat man-fashion.

For some time we went on in silence, which the gipsy girl broke by saying—

"My warning came true on your birthday."

"Save your fortune-telling mystery for the bumpkins at the next fair, Bess."

"Anyhow, I knew what you did not—the mortgages and the contract between the squire and Ryther."

"True."

"And I can tell you much more that you do not know. You go in peril of your life. Lord Sheffield will stick at nothing to remove you. False swearing, or poison, or a stab in the back, or a shot out of the reeds, all's one to him and his creatures. The slug which killed your friend to-day was meant for you."

"Are you in Lord Sheffield's counsels, Bess?" I asked.

"I know as much as if I was, and more," she replied. "Would that you could be persuaded for your good."

"How then?"

"To go away for two or three months, anywhere out of the Isle."

"And how would that advantage me?"

"If you stay, you will lose your inheritance, your freedom, and may be your life. If you go, you will save them all."

"You talk in riddles, Bess."

"I say all I dare. Most likely, I shall be beaten to-night for talking with you."

"Beaten?"

"Yes; for I have had the luck to keep you from harm. A man was hidden in the reeds to shoot you, and he couldn't be sure of getting away unseen, because I was with you. Besides, the horse has been between you and him."

"Bess!"

She leaped lightly to the ground. "There's nothing amiss with my ankle," she said. "But I knew I could get a hearing, if I cheated you into putting me on your horse. Now ride on as fast as you can, and do listen to advice. Go away soon, and until you leave the Isle, have pistol in holster, and sword at your side, and a trusty man behind you."

She slipped through an opening in the hedge, and sped across the fields in the direction of the encampment of her folk.

CHAPTER V

On arriving at Temple, I hastened to bed, and for two hours or more slept the heavy sleep of extreme weariness, but then awoke in pain and burning thirst. On getting out of bed, I found myself stiff and sore, and somewhat light-headed; so, after a draught of water, tumbled into bed again to watch for the morning in great uneasiness and impatience. At length the dawn appeared, and not long afterwards Luke entered my chamber, and made much ado about my condition, and that of my clothing, rent in places, and stiffened with blood, which he naturally supposed to be my own. His uplifted voice aroused Mr. Butharwick, who came to my room, and I was compelled to submit to an examination, which revealed more bruises and slight wounds than I had been aware of. As I had some fever upon me, my tutor and my servant took a high and mighty tone, declaring that I must keep my bed, and drink febrifuges; and I only escaped blood-letting because Luke had got it into his noddle that I had already lost at least a gallon. When once Luke got anything into his head, no other man could get it out again. In rising to prove that their solicitude was needless, a touch of giddiness laid me on my back, after which they had their way with me—they and the housekeeper, who boasted great skill in the compounding of broths of bitter herbs and seldom had the chance to exercise her art in our healthy house.

So this day I spent in bed, having my tutor for company, my father being away on some business of his solicitorship, and having (for once) left no clerkly task for Mr. Butharwick. My old friend was in no way surprised by the things which I had heard from Mistress Goel.

"Your father knows what has been reported to the earl, and is beforehand informed of every step which his lordship takes. The 'Solicitor' has trusty spies in the earl's own household. For example, he knows that a troop of soldiers would have been ordered here ere now to search for arms, but that they could not reach Temple, either from Hull or Doncaster, without our being advertised by the marshmen."

For my part, I had no confidence in "spies," who might play a game of their own, but I held my tongue. Mr. Butharwick had infinite faith in my father's ability, and it was not for me to shake it.

Mr. Butharwick lay under great apprehension as to what might be the upshot of the skirmish at Thorne, fearing I might be summoned to appear before the President of Council on the charge of assaulting those who were, in a manner, the officers of his Majesty, but took refuge in the certainty of our knowing the purposes of the earl in time for me to hide until my father should return, I thought his fears on that score groundless. A Vavasour could not be condemned without trial, and an open trial would be dangerous to Sheffield. As it was, the death of Will Staniforth might be laid to his charge.