The Red Tavern

by C. R. Macauley

  CHAPTER VII

  OF THE AWAKENING OF SIR RICHARD

  The sun was hanging high above the sea ere the young knight in thepavilion upon the hill began to arouse himself from his profoundstupor. Being of a healthful body it was his usual habit to start intobroad wakefulness, with every faculty alive, equally upon the alert,and ready upon the instant for the work or pleasure that chanced tobe forward for the day. So, in this instance, he was wholly unable toaccount for an extreme heaviness of the eyelids, combined with a senseof oppression that weighed painfully upon his chest. He grew consciousof a foreign odor in his nostrils that seemed to him to be wafted froman incalculably vast distance; and from the same distance was borneto his ears the confused murmuring of many voices. It appeared to SirRichard that he had been years upon years lying upon his back exertinga vain though ceaseless endeavor to summon together his scatteredfaculties. He would be aware, in a vague sort of way, that his truantmind was slowly settling upon some solid point of fact. But when itwas just about arriving at the spot where memory awaited it, nothingremained but baffling space, and he would discover himself to be againhanging in the awful abyss of Nothingness.

  For quite a space Sir Richard struggled thus mightily to recover hiswits from the enthralling opiate. Slowly, now, the events of theimmediate past were coming back to him. The first being that returnedto tenant his recreant memory was the gaunt, tall figure of theinn-keeper. Then crept in, stealthily, mysteriously, the misshapenhunchback, Zenas. The fog lifted from off the episode of the hound."The voice," he whispered. "Ah! the voice! The note--yea, the note! Andthe precious strip of saffron velvet!"

  Feebly he thrust his hand within the breast of his doublet and foundit there, whereupon he contrived to open his eyes and struggle to hiselbow.

  An expression of indescribable amazement sat upon the young knight'scountenance when his eyes encountered, above his head, the wavingfolds of the purple and black pavilion in the place of the uncoveredbeams of the room in the Red Tavern in which he had fallen asleep.He looked at the bed, and noted that it was the same, or one exactlysimilar in pattern. Upon a chair alongside his steel gear had beenneatly disposed. De Claverlok had seen to it that it was scrupulouslyburnished in every part. Sir Richard's headpiece confronted himjauntily from its position upon one of the lower bed-posts. He saw, ashe took it up, that its scarlet plume had been daintily curled. Turningit over, he raised the fillet. The message from Isabel was not there.

  Round about the pavilion he could hear men talking and laughing. Fromthe volume of sound, he estimated it to be a considerable company. Theywere conversing together for the most part, however, in the Spanishtongue, and he could gather nothing above a fragmentary word here andthere. The perplexity was growing upon him as to which was the dream,the singular circumstance of the night before, or that in which hethen discovered himself. But the cutting of saffron velvet, which hethereupon withdrew from its hiding place, proved to his apparentsatisfaction that his charming adventure with the imprisoned maid hadbeen a sweet reality. Examining it minutely, he pressed it once more tohis lips, and then restored it to its place next his heart.

  Against one side of the pavilion, which was closely curtained at everypoint, stood a bench upon which rested a basin of clear water. He arosefrom bed and laved his aching head within its grateful coldness. It hadthe effect of clearing it wonderfully. Before buckling on his armor,it occurred to him to ascertain whether the King's warrant were yetsecure. He discovered, much to his chagrin, that it was missing. Hecongratulated himself, however, upon Lord Stanley's foresight in havingprovided him with a duplicate copy, which he had taken the precautionto have sewn within the lining of the skirt of his doublet, and wasoverjoyed to find that this had been overlooked. He then finishedbuckling on his steel gear, fastened on the casque, drew the visorclose, and in this manner, armed in proof, he walked straight to theentrance and thrust aside the damask hangings.

  The pair of stalwart guards outside tumbled awkwardly together in theirhaste to arise, muttering confused sentences in Spanish as they did soand touching their fingers to their bonnets in a respectful salute.This rather humorous happening drew the attention of a score or moreof armed men seated about a roaring fire, which burned at the footof the steep incline that fell away from the pavilion on every hand.Upon catching sight of Sir Richard they arose in a body to their feet,standing at soldierly attention. Several of them bowed. One from amongthem started quickly up the hill to where the young knight stood.

  He was a man of admirable proportions, and the ease and grace withwhich he swung up the sharp slope, all encumbered as he was in a suitof heavy, inlaid armor, bespoke for him great strength and activity oflimb and body. The guards, obedient to his terse commands, withdrewthemselves beyond earshot. He then approached Sir Richard, removed hisfeathered cap that he was wearing in temporary lieu of helmet, andsaluted him with an elaborate bow.

  "Good-morrow, sir knight," he gave him greeting. "Thy slumber, Itrust, hath proved as restful as it was prolonged and deep?"

  "By'r lady!" the young knight curtly rejoined, affronted by that whichhe considered but mock ceremony. "And what meaneth this thing, pray?Why am I entented here and surrounded by guards and warriors ...free-lances, outlaws ... i' truth, I know not which? Torment me notwith suspense, sir, but tell me ... where is the Red Tavern wherein Iwent to sleep? And, by all the gods, sirrah, who art thou?"

  "The last shall be first, good my knight, and the first last," theother answered flippantly. "As for myself, I am known here in Scotlandas the Knight of the Double Rook. In England I am styled the RenegadeDuke, and the bloody block in the Tower, sir, doth this moment itch formy head. To bring the history of my variegated and not uninterestingcareer down to the present time, I have the distinguished honor to havebeen nominated as thy squire and secretary. And as such, sir knight, Irespectfully await thy commands."

  "Then," answered Sir Richard upon the instant, "show me now the road tothe Red Tavern. And be good enough to explain the mystery of how I amcome to be here without either my knowledge or consent. Who may it be,sir, that is at bottom of this damnable piece of device and practice?"

  "By St. Peter, sir knight," replied the Renegade Duke, "I miss my shot,an the Red Tavern be now even three cock-crows removed from here. Forthat, good sir, hath been the duration of thy sleep. As to its cause,... well, Friar Diomed, the secret chymist, could doubtless betteracquit himself of that answer than I."

  "But thou canst tell me why I am here," Sir Richard insisted, "and whois responsible for this stealthy abduction."

  "Why thou art here, sir knight, I may not say," declared the RenegadeDuke, "for I have pledged my knightly word to maintain secrecy uponthat point. As to the responsibility," he added boastingly, "I wouldfain accept my share of that along with the forty other knights andnobles who conspired to bring thee here."

  "Pray," Sir Richard went on, "of what advantage is a truce, an a loyalsubject of the King may not travel abroad without adventuring theperils of captivity, detention, or such other discourtesies as thyaugust body of forty may have under consideration? Have done with thiserrant nonsense, my good Duke ... an, indeed, thou be such ... andtell me where I shall find my horse, so that I may fare away upon myjourney?"

  "Thy steed, sir knight," said the Renegade Duke, apparently not heedingSir Richard's unveiled insult, "is now being groomed by an equerry.After thou hast broken thy fast it shall be led around to thee, wearingas fine a coat of glossy satin as ever graced my lady's shoulders. Thoushalt then be at liberty ... or in a manner at liberty, I should havesaid, ... to resume thy journey, as henceforth thou shalt travel underthe protection of our estimable body of men here."

  There are ways without number of accepting an involuntary andcompulsory situation. Sir Richard chose to embrace it after a lightsomeand cheery fashion, believing thus that the open eye for an opportunityof effecting his escape would be thus more effectually disguised andconcealed.

  "Well, ... so must it be," said he, laughing. "And since,
mayhap, weare to travel in the same direction, I shall be all the gainer by thyfamous company."

  After they had breakfasted, the Renegade Duke signified his desire toescort Sir Richard about the grounds of the encampment.

  He found it to be composed of some threescore of tents set in a widecircle around the purple and black pavilion. These, his loquaciousguide informed him, but served to give shelter to the leaders, themen-at-arms and archers, of which there were near a thousand, hadthatched, rude coverings beneath the trees and shelving rocks. It wasa perfect morning, the sun blazing upon the sea out of a cloudlesssky. The site of the encampment was matchless in the beauty of itssurroundings. To the north an apparently limitless forest started outof a purple haze on the line of the horizon, far above; and, slippingdown in terrace beneath terrace of parti-colored foliage, haltedabruptly, as though the red moor had forbidden the trees to trespasswithin its boundaries. Southward, one overlooked the gorse-grown plain,the level monotony of which was broken, at wide intervals, by thesudden uprearing of an isolated brae.

  When Sir Richard and the Duke returned from their circuit of the placeof the encampment, the purple and black pavilion had been struck, anda cavalcade of fifty horsemen, superbly armed and caparisoned, awaitedbut the command to move. An equerry led forward the young knight'shorse, which neighed with joy upon beholding its master. As to theperfection of its condition, the Renegade Duke had not exaggerated,for, between its burnished trappings, its ebon coat shone with the softand velvety sheen of the finest satin. As he leapt into the saddle abugler winded a silvery blast and the company at once set into motion.The horsemen were equally disposed forward of the noble prisoner and tothe rear. Upon his right hand rode the Renegade Duke, who had mountedhimself upon a gigantic white stallion. To his left rode Lord BishopKennedy, to whom the Duke introduced Sir Richard as they began theirmarch.

  The Renegade Duke's range of subjects of conversation was limited tothe discussion of his wonderful prowess in armed encounters upon thefield of battle and within the lists, and of his innumerable conquestsin that other and fairer field of the heart's affections. Sir Richardhad disliked the fellow from the first, and his feelings toward himwere rapidly undergoing a change into something more robust than meredislike. But to have sought a quarrel with him then would have defeatedthe purpose that was even then assuming a definite shape within theyoung knight's mind. Sir Richard despised the Duke not alone becauseof his manner of speaking, but also for the way he had of twisting hisfierce mustachios till they pointed heavenward from each of his roundcheeks.

  When he could no longer tolerate listening to his idle boasting, SirRichard turned and addressed himself to Lord Bishop Kennedy, who hadspoken no word to the young knight since their first brief interchangeof courtesies at the start of their journey.

  "Surely," thought Sir Richard, "if Verbosity attends me upon my righthand, Taciturnity doth ride gloomily along at my left," for the worthyBishop did not even condescend to raise his sharp chin from out ofhis white tunic whilst delivering himself of a curt negative oraffirmative in response to the young knight's conversational advances.

  Ahead of where they were riding, a jagged spur of the forest, composedof stunted pines and dense underbrush, swept defiantly down upon themoor. They were forced to describe a wide detour to the southward inorder to avoid it and come upon the other side. As they were passingits nethermost point, Sir Richard glanced back to the place of hisstrange awakening beneath the sumptuous pavilion. He saw a great ship,with snowy sails bellying in the wind, making straight for that pointof the coast, and the men, whom they had left behind, were swarmingafter the manner of an army of busy ants to the sandy beach.

  Passing the spur of stunted pines, they skirted the forest in anorthwesterly direction till they had arrived upon a well definedroad that plunged directly into the dense wood. Up this rocky way thecavalcade slowly defiled. Far above their heads the maze of branchesmet and intertwined, making it seem as though the company had beenswallowed up within the cool mouth of a tremendously lofty greencavern. The sound of the hoof-beats of their horses was smothered inthe thick carpet of pine needles underfoot, and the rich, sweet scentof them filled all the air.

  Since Sir Richard had displayed a disinclination to give ear to hiscant, the Renegade Duke had drawn ahead to join the leading horsemen,and for an interval of more than two hours Bishop Kennedy and hisprisoner rode onward side by side without exchanging a single word.

  "What road may this be, good Bishop?" he ventured finally to inquire.

  "'Tis the continuation of the Sauchieburn Pass," Lord Kennedy brieflyreplied.

  Sir Richard was more than contented, for he knew then that the way ledto Castle Yewe and Lord Douglas, into whose hands he intended soon todeliver the duplicate of the parchment that had been pilfered from outof his wallet.