CHAPTER III
THE COMING OF THE SPANIARD
And now I must go back and speak of my own matters. As I have told, itwas my father's wish that I should be a physician, and since I cameback from my schooling at Norwich, that was when I had entered on mysixteenth year, I had studied medicine under the doctor who practisedhis art in the neighbourhood of Bungay. He was a very learned man and anhonest, Grimstone by name, and as I had some liking for the business Imade good progress under him. Indeed I had learned almost all that hecould teach me, and my father purposed to send me to London, there topush on my studies, so soon as I should attain my twentieth year, thatis within some five months of the date of the coming of the Spaniard.
But it was not fated that I should go to London.
Medicine was not the only thing that I studied in those days, however.Squire Bozard of Ditchingham, the same who told my father of the comingof the Spanish ship, had two living children, a son and a daughter,though his wife had borne him many more who died in infancy. Thedaughter was named Lily and of my own age, having been born three weeksafter me in the same year. Now the Bozards are gone from these parts,for my great-niece, the granddaughter and sole heiress of this son, hasmarried and has issue of another name. But this is by the way.
From our earliest days we children, Bozards and Wingfields, lived almostas brothers and sisters, for day by day we met and played together inthe snow or in the flowers. Thus it would be hard for me to say when Ibegan to love Lily or when she began to love me; but I know that whenfirst I went to school at Norwich I grieved more at losing sight of herthan because I must part from my mother and the rest. In all our gamesshe was ever my partner, and I would search the country round for daysto find such flowers as she chanced to love. When I came back fromschool it was the same, though by degrees Lily grew shyer, and I alsogrew suddenly shy, perceiving that from a child she had become a woman.Still we met often, and though neither said anything of it, it was sweetto us to meet.
Thus things went on till this day of my mother's death. But before Igo further I must tell that Squire Bozard looked with no favour on thefriendship between his daughter and myself--and this, not because hedisliked me, but rather because he would have seen Lily wedded to myelder brother Geoffrey, my father's heir, and not to a younger son. Sohard did he grow about the matter at last that we two might scarcelymeet except by seeming accident, whereas my brother was ever welcomeat the Hall. And on this account some bitterness arose between us twobrothers, as is apt to be the case when a woman comes between friendshowever close. For it must be known that my brother Geoffrey also lovedLily, as all men would have loved her, and with a better right perhapsthan I had--for he was my elder by three years and born to possessions.It may seem indeed that I was somewhat hasty to fall into this state,seeing that at the time of which I write I was not yet of age; but youngblood is nimble, and moreover mine was half Spanish, and made a man ofme when many a pure-bred Englishman is still nothing but a boy. For theblood and the sun that ripens it have much to do with such matters, asI have seen often enough among the Indian peoples of Anahuac, who at theage of fifteen will take to themselves a bride of twelve. At the leastit is certain that when I was eighteen years of age I was old enoughto fall in love after such fashion that I never fell out of it againaltogether, although the history of my life may seem to give me the liewhen I say so. But I take it that a man may love several women and yetlove one of them the best of all, being true in the spirit to the lawwhich he breaks in the letter.
Now when I had attained nineteen years I was a man full grown, andwriting as I do in extreme old age, I may say it without false shame, avery handsome youth to boot. I was not over tall, indeed, measuring butfive feet nine inches and a half in height, but my limbs were well made,and I was both deep and broad in the chest. In colour I was, and mywhite hair notwithstanding, am still extraordinarily dark hued, my eyesalso were large and dark, and my hair, which was wavy, was coal black.In my deportment I was reserved and grave to sadness, in speech I wasslow and temperate, and more apt at listening than in talking. I weighedmatters well before I made up my mind upon them, but being made up,nothing could turn me from that mind short of death itself, whether itwere set on good or evil, on folly or wisdom. In those days also I hadlittle religion, since, partly because of my father's secret teachingand partly through the workings of my own reason, I had learned to doubtthe doctrines of the Church as they used to be set out. Youth is proneto reason by large leaps as it were, and to hold that all things arefalse because some are proved false; and thus at times in those days Ithought that there was no God, because the priest said that the image ofthe Virgin at Bungay wept and did other things which I knew that it didnot do. Now I know well that there is a God, for my own story proves itto my heart. In truth, what man can look back across a long life and saythat there is no God, when he can see the shadow of His hand lying deepupon his tale of years?
On this sad day of which I write I knew that Lily, whom I loved,would be walking alone beneath the great pollard oaks in the park ofDitchingham Hall. Here, in Grubswell as the spot is called, grew, andindeed still grow, certain hawthorn trees that are the earliest to blowof any in these parts, and when we had met at the church door on theSunday, Lily said that there would be bloom upon them by the Wednesday,and on that afternoon she should go to cut it. It may well be that shespoke thus with design, for love will breed cunning in the heart of themost guileless and truthful maid. Moreover, I noticed that though shesaid it before her father and the rest of us, yet she waited to speaktill my brother Geoffrey was out of hearing, for she did not wish togo maying with him, and also that as she spoke she shot a glance of hergrey eyes at me. Then and there I vowed to myself that I also wouldbe gathering hawthorn bloom in this same place and on that Wednesdayafternoon, yes, even if I must play truant and leave all the sick ofBungay to Nature's nursing. Moreover, I was determined on one thing,that if I could find Lily alone I would delay no longer, but tell herall that was in my heart; no great secret indeed, for though no wordof love had ever passed between us as yet, each knew the other's hiddenthoughts. Not that I was in the way to become affianced to a maid, whohad my path to cut in the world, but I feared that if I delayed to makesure of her affection my brother would be before me with her father,and Lily might yield to that to which she would not yield if once we hadplighted troth.
Now it chanced that on this afternoon I was hard put to it to escape tomy tryst, for my master, the physician, was ailing, and sent me to visitthe sick for him, carrying them their medicines. At the last, however,between four and five o'clock, I fled, asking no leave. Taking theNorwich road I ran for a mile and more till I had passed the Manor Houseand the church turn, and drew near to Ditchingham Park. Then I droppedmy pace to a walk, for I did not wish to come before Lily heated anddisordered, but rather looking my best, to which end I had put on mySunday garments. Now as I went down the little hill in the road thatruns past the park, I saw a man on horseback who looked first at thebridle-path, that at this spot turns off to the right, then back acrossthe common lands towards the Vineyard Hills and the Waveney, and thenalong the road as though he did not know which way to turn. I was quickto notice things--though at this moment my mind was not at its swiftest,being set on other matters, and chiefly as to how I should tell my taleto Lily--and I saw at once that this man was not of our country.
He was very tall and noble-looking, dressed in rich garments of velvetadorned by a gold chain that hung about his neck, and as I judged aboutforty years of age. But it was his face which chiefly caught my eye, forat that moment there was something terrible about it. It was long,thin, and deeply carved; the eyes were large, and gleamed like gold insunlight; the mouth was small and well shaped, but it wore a devilishand cruel sneer; the forehead lofty, indicating a man of mind, andmarked with a slight scar. For the rest the cavalier was dark andsouthern-looking, his curling hair, like my own, was black, and he worea peaked chestnut-coloured beard.
By the time that I ha
d finished these observations my feet had broughtme almost to the stranger's side, and for the first time he caught sightof me. Instantly his face changed, the sneer left it, and it becamekindly and pleasant looking. Lifting his bonnet with much courtesy hestammered something in broken English, of which all that I could catchwas the word Yarmouth; then perceiving that I did not understand him, hecursed the English tongue and all those who spoke it, aloud and in goodCastilian.
'If the senor will graciously express his wish in Spanish,' I said,speaking in that language, 'it may be in my power to help him.'
'What! you speak Spanish, young sir,' he said, starting, 'and yet youare not a Spaniard, though by your face you well might be. Caramba! butit is strange!' and he eyed me curiously.
'It may be strange, sir,' I answered, 'but I am in haste. Be pleased toask your question and let me go.'
'Ah!' he said, 'perhaps I can guess the reason of your hurry. I sawa white robe down by the streamlet yonder,' and he nodded towards thepark. 'Take the advice of an older man, young sir, and be careful. Makewhat sport you will with such, but never believe them and never marrythem--lest you should live to desire to kill them!'
Here I made as though I would pass on, but he spoke again.
'Pardon my words, they were well meant, and perhaps you may come tolearn their truth. I will detain you no more. Will you graciously directme on my road to Yarmouth, for I am not sure of it, having ridden byanother way, and your English country is so full of trees that a mancannot see a mile?'
I walked a dozen paces down the bridle-path that joined the road atthis place, and pointed out the way that he should go, past Ditchinghamchurch. As I did so I noticed that while I spoke the stranger waswatching my face keenly and, as it seemed to me, with an inward fearwhich he strove to master and could not. When I had finished again heraised his bonnet and thanked me, saying,
'Will you be so gracious as to tell me your name, young Sir?'
'What is my name to you?' I answered roughly, for I disliked this man.'You have not told me yours.'
'No, indeed, I am travelling incognito. Perhaps I also have met a ladyin these parts,' and he smiled strangely. 'I only wished to know thename of one who had done me a courtesy, but who it seems is not socourteous as I deemed.' And he shook his horse's reins.
'I am not ashamed of my name,' I said. 'It has been an honest one sofar, and if you wish to know it, it is Thomas Wingfield.'
'I thought it,' he cried, and as he spoke his face grew like the faceof a fiend. Then before I could find time even to wonder, he had sprungfrom his horse and stood within three paces of me.
'A lucky day! Now we will see what truth there is in prophecies,' hesaid, drawing his silver-mounted sword. 'A name for a name; Juan deGarcia gives you greeting, Thomas Wingfield.'
Now, strange as it may seem, it was at this moment only that thereflashed across my mind the thought of all that I had heard about theSpanish stranger, the report of whose coming to Yarmouth had stirred myfather and mother so deeply. At any other time I should have rememberedit soon enough, but on this day I was so set upon my tryst with Lilyand what I should say to her, that nothing else could hold a place in mythoughts.
'This must be the man,' I said to myself, and then I said no more,for he was on me, sword up. I saw the keen point flash towards me, andsprang to one side having a desire to fly, as, being unarmed except formy stick, I might have done without shame. But spring as I would I couldnot avoid the thrust altogether. It was aimed at my heart and it piercedthe sleeve of my left arm, passing through the flesh--no more. Yet atthe pain of that cut all thought of flight left me, and instead of ita cold anger filled me, causing me to wish to kill this man who hadattacked me thus and unprovoked. In my hand was my stout oaken staffwhich I had cut myself on the banks of Hollow Hill, and if I wouldfight I must make such play with this as I might. It seems a poor weaponindeed to match against a Toledo blade in the hands of one who couldhandle it well, and yet there are virtues in a cudgel, for when a mansees himself threatened with it, he is likely to forget that he holdsin his hand a more deadly weapon, and to take to the guarding of his ownhead in place of running his adversary through the body.
And that was what chanced in this case, though how it came about exactlyI cannot tell. The Spaniard was a fine swordsman, and had I been armedas he was would doubtless have overmatched me, who at that age had nopractice in the art, which was almost unknown in England. But when hesaw the big stick flourished over him he forgot his own advantage, andraised his arm to ward away the blow. Down it came upon the back of hishand, and lo! his sword fell from it to the grass. But I did not sparehim because of that, for my blood was up. The next stroke took him onthe lips, knocking out a tooth and sending him backwards. Then I caughthim by the leg and beat him most unmercifully, not upon the head indeed,for now that I was victor I did not wish to kill one whom I thought amadman as I would that I had done, but on every other part of him.
Indeed I thrashed him till my arms were weary and then I fell to kickinghim, and all the while he writhed like a wounded snake and cursedhorribly, though he never cried out or asked for mercy. At last I ceasedand looked at him, and he was no pretty sight to see--indeed, what withhis cuts and bruises and the mire of the roadway, it would have beenhard to know him for the gallant cavalier whom I had met not fiveminutes before. But uglier than all his hurts was the look in his wickedeyes as he lay there on his back in the pathway and glared up at me.
'Now, friend Spaniard,' I said, 'you have learned a lesson; and what isthere to hinder me from treating you as you would have dealt with mewho had never harmed you?' and I took up his sword and held it to histhroat.
'Strike home, you accursed whelp!' he answered in a broken voice; 'it isbetter to die than to live to remember such shame as this.'
'No,' I said, 'I am no foreign murderer to kill a defenceless man. Youshall away to the justice to answer for yourself. The hangman has a ropefor such as you.'
'Then you must drag me thither,' he groaned, and shut his eyes as thoughwith faintness, and doubtless he was somewhat faint.
Now as I pondered on what should be done with the villain, it chancedthat I looked up through a gap in the fence, and there, among theGrubswell Oaks three hundred yards or more away, I caught sight of theflutter of a white robe that I knew well, and it seemed to me that thewearer of that robe was moving towards the bridge of the 'watering' asthough she were weary of waiting for one who did not come.
Then I thought to myself that if I stayed to drag this man to thevillage stocks or some other safe place, there would be an end ofmeeting with my love that day, and I did not know when I might findanother chance. Now I would not have missed that hour's talk with Lilyto bring a score of murderous-minded foreigners to their deserts, and,moreover, this one had earned good payment for his behaviour. Surelythought I, he might wait a while till I had done my love-making, andif he would not wait I could find a means to make him do so. Not twentypaces from us the horse stood cropping the grass. I went to him andundid his bridle rein, and with it fastened the Spaniard to a smallwayside tree as best I was able.
'Now, here you stay,' I said, 'till I am ready to fetch you;' and Iturned to go.
But as I went a great doubt took me, and once more I remembered mymother's fear, and how my father had ridden in haste to Yarmouthon business about a Spaniard. Now to-day a Spaniard had wandered toDitchingham, and when he learned my name had fallen upon me madly tryingto kill me. Was not this the man whom my mother feared, and was it rightthat I should leave him thus that I might go maying with my dear? I knewin my breast that it was not right, but I was so set upon my desire andso strongly did my heartstrings pull me towards her whose white robenow fluttered on the slope of the Park Hill, that I never heeded thewarning.
Well had it been for me if I had done so, and well for some who were yetunborn. Then they had never known death, nor I the land of exile, thetaste of slavery, and the altar of sacrifice.
Montezuma's Daughter Page 4