CHAPTER VIII
THYMA CASTLE
Soon afterwards the hollow sound of the warden's horn, from the watchover the gate of the wall, proclaimed the hour of noon, and they allassembled for dinner in the banqueting chamber. The apartment was on theground floor, and separated from the larger hall only by an internalwall. The house, erected in the time of the ancients, was not designedfor our present style of life; it possessed, indeed, many comforts andconveniences which are scarcely now to be found in the finest palaces,but it lacked the breadth of construction which our architects have nowin view.
In the front there were originally only two rooms, extensive for thoseold days, but not sufficiently so for ours. One of these had thereforebeen enlarged, by throwing into it a back room and part of the entrance,and even then it was not long enough for the Baron's retainers, and atfeast-time a wooden shed was built opposite, and up to the window, tocontinue, as it were, the apartment out of doors. Workmen were busyputting up this shed when they arrived.
The second apartment retained its ancient form, and was used as thedining-room on ordinary days. It was lighted by a large window, nowthrown wide open that the sweet spring air might enter, which window wasthe pride of the Baroness, for it contained more true glass than anywindow in the palace of the Prince. The glass made now is nottransparent, but merely translucent; it indeed admits light after afashion, but it is thick and cannot be seen through. These panes werealmost all (the central casement wholly) of ancient glass, preservedwith the greatest care through the long years past.
Three tables were arranged in an open square; the Baron and Baroness'schairs of oak faced the window, the guests sat at the other tablessideways to them, the servants moved on the outer side, and thus placedthe food before them without pushing against or incommoding them. Afourth table was placed in a corner between the fireplace and thewindow. At it sat the old nurse, the housekeeper (frequently arising toorder the servants), and the Baron's henchman, who had taught him toride, but now, grey and aged, could not mount himself withoutassistance, and had long ceased from active service.
Already eight or nine guests had arrived besides Felix and Oliver. Somehad ridden a great distance to be present at the House Day. They wereall nobles, richly dressed; one or two of the eldest were wealthy andpowerful men, and the youngest was the son and heir of the Earl ofEssiton, who was then the favourite at Court. Each had come with hispersonal attendants; the young Lord Durand brought with him twenty-fiveretainers, and six gentlemen friends, all of whom were lodged in thetown, the gentlemen taking their meals at the castle at the same time asthe Baron, but, owing to lack of room, in another apartment bythemselves. Durand was placed, or rather, quietly helped himself to aseat, next to the Lady Aurora, and of all the men there present,certainly there was none more gallant and noble than he.
His dark eyes, his curling hair short but brought in a thick curl overhis forehead, his lips well shaped, his chin round and somewhatprominent, the slight moustache (no other hair on the face), formed thevery ideal of what many women look for in a man. But it was his bright,lively conversation, the way in which his slightly swarthy complexionflushed with animation, the impudent assurance and yet generous warmthof his manner, and, indeed, of his feelings, which had given him themerited reputation of being the very flower of the nobles.
With such a reputation, backed with the great wealth and power of hisfather, gentlemen competed with each other to swell his train; he couldnot, indeed, entertain all that came, and was often besieged with almostas large a crowd as the Prince himself. He took as his right the chairnext to Aurora, to whom, indeed, he had been paying unremittingattention all the morning. She was laughing heartily as she sat down, atsome sally of his upon a beauty at the Court.
The elder men were placed highest up the tables, and nearest the host,but to the astonishment of all, and not the least of himself, Oliver wasinvited by the Baron to sit by his side. Oliver could not understandthis special mark of favour; the others, though far too proud for amoment to resent what they might have deemed a slight upon them, at oncebegan to search their minds for a reason. They knew the Baron as an oldintriguer; they attached a meaning, whether intended or not, to hissmallest action.
Felix, crowded out, as it were, and unnoticed, was forced to take hisseat at the end of the table nearest that set apart in the corner forthe aged and honoured servitors of the family. Only a few feetintervened between him and ancient henchmen; and he could not butoverhear their talk among themselves, whispered as it was. He had merelyshaken hands with Aurora; the crowd in the drawing-room and the markedattentions of Durand had prevented the exchange of a single word betweenthem. As usual, the sense of neglect and injury over which he had solong brooded with little or no real cause (considering, of course, hisposition, and that the world can only see our coats and not our hearts),under these entirely accidental circumstances rose up again within him,and blinded him to the actual state of things.
His seat, the lowest, and the nearest to the servitors, was in itself amark of the low estimation in which he was held. The Lord Durand hadbeen placed next to Aurora, as a direct encouragement to him, and adirect hint to himself not to presume. Doubtless, Durand had been at thecastle many times, not improbably already been accepted by the Baron,and not altogether refused by Aurora. As a fact, though delighted withher beauty and conversation, Durand's presence was entirely due to thewill of his father, the Earl, who wished to maintain friendly relationswith Baron Thyma, and even then he would not have come had not thelovely weather invited him to ride into the forest.
It was, however, so far true, that though his presence was accidental,yet he was fast becoming fascinated by one who, girl though she was, wasstronger in mind than he. Now Aurora, knowing that he father's eye wason her, dared not look towards Felix, lest by an open and pronouncedconduct she should be the cause of his being informed that his presencewas not desirable. She knew that the Baron only needed a pretext tointerfere, and was anxious to avoid offering him a chance.
Felix, seeing her glance bent downwards or towards her companion, andnever all the time turned to him, not unnaturally, but too hastily,concluded that she had been dazzled by Durand and the possibility of analliance with his powerful family. He was discarded, worthless, and ofno account; he had nothing but his sword; nay, he had not a sword, hewas only an archer, a footman. Angry, jealous, and burning with inwardannoyance, despising himself since all others despised him, scarce ableto remain at the table, Felix was almost beside himself, and did notanswer nor heed the remarks of the gentlemen sitting by him, who put himdown as an ill-bred churl.
For the form's sake, indeed, he put his lips to the double-handled cupof fine ale, which continually circulated round the table, and was neverallowed to be put down; one servant had nothing else to do but to seethat its progress never stopped. But he drank nothing, and ate nothing;he could not swallow. How visionary, how weak and feeble now seemed thewild scheme of the canoe and his proposed voyage! Even should itsucceed, years must elapse before he could accomplish anythingsubstantial; while here were men who really had what he could only thinkof or imagine.
The silver chain or sword-belt of Durand (the sword and the dagger werenot worn at the banquet, nor in the house, they were received by themarshal, and deposited in his care, a precaution against quarrelling),solid silver links passing over his shoulder, were real actual things.All the magnificence that he could call up by the exercise of hisimagination, was but imagination; a dream no more to be seen by othersthan the air itself.
The dinner went on, and the talk became more noisy. The trout, thechicken, the thyme lamb (trapped on the hills by the shepherds), theplover eggs, the sirloin, the pastry (the Baroness superintended themaking of it herself), all the profusion of the table, rather set himagainst food than tempted him. Nor could he drink the tiny drop, as itwere, of ancient brandy, sent round to each guest at the conclusion,precious as liquid gold, for it had been handed down from the ancients,and when once the cask was empty
it could not be re-filled.
The dessert, the strawberries, the nuts and walnuts, carefully preservedwith a little salt, and shaken in the basket from time to time that theymight not become mouldy, the apples, the honey in the comb with slicesof white bread, nothing pleased him. Nor did he drink, otherwise thanthe sip demanded by courtesy, of the thin wine of Gloucester, costly asit was, grown in the vineyard there, and shipped across the Lake, andrendered still more expensive by risk of pirates. This was poured intoflagons of maple wood, which, like the earthenware cup of ale, werenever allowed to touch the board till the dinner was over.
Wearily the time went on; Felix glanced more and more often at the skyseen through the casement, eagerly desiring to escape, and at least tobe alone. At last (how long it seemed!) the Baron rose, and immediatelythe rest did the same, and they drank the health of the Prince. Then aservitor brought in a pile of cigars upon a carved wooden tray, like alarge platter, but with a rim. "These," said the Baron, again rising(the signal to all to cease conversing and to listen), "are a presentfrom my gracious and noble friend the Earl of Essiton" (he lookedtowards Durand), "not less kindly carried by Lord Durand. I could haveprovided only our own coarse tobacco; but these are the best Devon."
The ladies now left the table, Aurora escorted by Durand, the Baronessby Oliver. Oliver, indeed, was in the highest spirits; he had eatenheartily of all; especially the sweet thyme lamb, and drunk as freely.He was in his element, his laugh the loudest, his talk the liveliest.Directly Durand returned (he had gone even a part of the way upstairstowards the drawing-room with Aurora, a thing a little againstetiquette) he took his chair, formality being now at an end, and placedit by Oliver. They seemed to become friends at once by sympathy of mindand taste.
Round them the rest gradually grouped themselves, so that presentlyFelix, who did not move, found himself sitting alone at the extreme endof the table; quite apart, for the old retainers, who dined at theseparate table, had quitted the apartment when the wine was brought in.Freed from the restraint of the ladies, the talk now became extremelynoisy, the blue smoke from the long cigars filled the great apartment;one only remained untouched, that placed before Felix. Suddenly itstruck him that thus sitting alone and apart, he should attractattention; he, therefore, drew his chair to the verge of the group, butremained silent, and as far off as ever. Presently the arrival of fivemore guests caused a stir and confusion, in the midst of which heescaped into the open air.
He wandered towards the gate of the wall, passing the wooden shed wherethe clink of hammers resounded, glanced at the sundial, which showed thehour of three (three weary hours had they feasted), and went out intothe gardens. Still going on, he descended the slope, and not muchheeding whither he was going, took the road that led into town. Itconsisted of some hundred or more houses, built of wood and thatched,placed without plan or arrangement on the bank of the stream. Only onelong street ran through it, the rest were mere by-ways.
All these were inhabited by the Baron's retainers, but the number andapparently small extent of the houses did not afford correct data forthe actual amount of the population. In these days the people (as iswell known) find much difficulty in marrying; it seems only possible fora certain proportion to marry, and hence there are always a great numberof young or single men out of all ratio to the houses. At the sound ofthe bugle the Baron could reckon on at least three hundred men flockingwithout a minute's delay to man the wall; in an hour more would arrivefrom the outer places, and by nightfall, if the summons went forth inthe morning, his shepherds and swineherds would arrive, and thesetogether would add some hundred and fifty to the garrison.
Next must be reckoned the armed servants of the house, the Baron'spersonal attendants, the gentlemen who formed his train, his sons andthe male relations of the family; these certainly were not less thanfifty. Altogether over five hundred men, well armed and accustomed tothe use of their weapons, would range themselves beneath his banner. Twoof the buildings in he town were of brick (the material carried hither,for there was no clay or stone thereabouts); they were not far apart.The one was the Toll House, where all merchants or traders paid thecharges in corn or kind due to the Baron; the other was the Court House,where he sat to administer justice and decide causes, or to send thecriminal to the gibbet.
These alone of the buildings were of any age, for the wooden houses wereextremely subject to destruction by fire, and twice in the Baron's timehalf the town had been laid in ashes, only to rise again in a few weeks.Timber was so abundant and so ready of access, it seemed a loss oflabour to fetch stone or brick, or to use the flints of the hills. Aboutthe doors of the two inns there were gathered groups of people; amongthem the liveries of the nobles visiting the castle were conspicuous;the place was full of them, the stables were filled, and their horseswere picketed under the trees and even in the street.
Every minute the numbers increased as others arrived; men, too (who hadobtained permission of their lords), came in on foot, ten or twelvetravelling together for mutual protection, for the feuds of theirmasters exposed them to frequent attack. All (except the nobles) weredisarmed at the barrier by the warden and guard, that peace might bepreserved in the enclosure. The folk at the moment he passed werewatching the descent of three covered waggons from the forest track, inwhich were travelling the ladies of as many noble families.
Some, indeed, of the youngest and boldest ride on horseback, but theladies chiefly move in these waggons, which are fitted up withconsiderable comfort, and are necessary to sleep in when the camp isformed by the wayside at night. None noticed him as he went by, except agroup of three cottage girls, and a serving-woman, an attendant of alady visitor at the castle. He heard them allude to him; he quickenedhis pace, but heard one say, "He's nobody; he hasn't even got a horse."
"Yes he is," replied the serving-woman; "he's Oliver's brother; and Ican tell you my lord Oliver is somebody; the Princess Lucia--" and shemade the motion of kissing with her lips. Felix, ashamed and annoyed tothe last degree, stepped rapidly from the spot. The serving-woman,however, was right in a measure; the real or supposed favour shownOliver by the Prince's sister, the Duchess of Deverell, had begun to bebruited abroad, and this was the secret reason why the Baron had shownOliver so much and so marked an attention, even more than he had paid toLord Durand.
Full well he knew the extraordinary influence possessed by ladies ofrank and position. From what we can learn out of the scanty records ofthe past, it was so even in the days of the ancients; it is ahundredfold more so in these times, when, although every noble must ofnecessity be taught to read and write, as a matter of fact the men doneither, but all the correspondence of kings and princes, and thediplomatic documents, and notices, and so forth, are one and all, almostwithout a single exception, drawn up by women. They know the secret andhidden motives of courts, and have this great advantage, that they canuse their knowledge without personal fear, since women are neverseriously interfered with, but are protected by all.
The one terrible and utterly shameful instance to the contrary had notoccurred at the time of which we are now speaking, and it was and isstill repudiated by every man, from the knight to the boys who gatheracorns for the swine. Oliver himself had no idea whatever that he wasregarded as a favourite lover of the Duchess; he took the welcome thatwas held out to him as perfectly honest. Plain, straightforward, andhonest, Oliver, had he been openly singled out by a queen, would havescorned to give himself an air for such a reason. But the Baron, deep inintrigue this many a year, looked more profoundly into the possibilitiesof the future when he kept the young knight at his side.
After London; Or, Wild England Page 14