by Guy Thorne
CHAPTER VII
HEY HO! AND A RUMBELOW!
They had ridden over London Bridge.
The night was dark, and a wind was beginning to rise. Again, here andthere about the bridge, soldiers were lounging, but Commendone and hisservant passed over successfully. He was recognised from the last time,three nights ago. As they walked their horses through the scatteredhouses immediately at the southern end of the bridge, Johnnie spoke toHull.
"I have plans," he said quietly; "my mind is full of them. But I cangive you no hint until we are there and doing. Be quick at the uptake,follow me in all I do, but if necessary act thyself, and remember thatwe are desperate men upon an adventure as desperate. Let nothing standin the way, as I shall not."
For answer he heard a low mutter, almost a growl, and they rode on insilence.
Both were cool and calm, strung up to the very highest point, everysingle faculty of mind and body on the alert and poised to strike.
One, the Spanish blood within him turning to that cold icy fury whichwould stick at nothing in this world to achieve his ends, the while histrained intelligence and high mental powers sat, as it were, upon hisfrozen anger and rode it as a horse; the other, a volcano of hiddensnarling fury, seeing red at each step of his way through the dark, butsubordinate and disciplined by the master mind.
They came to the entrance to Duck Lane, walked their horses quietly downit--once more it was in silence--until under the lamp above the big reddoor of the House of Shame, they saw two horses tethered to a ring inthe wall, and a man in a cloak walking up and down in front of thehouse.
He looked up sharply as they came into the circle of lamp-light, andJohnnie saw, with a fierce throb of exultation, that it was Torrome, theKing's valet.
"It is you, Senor," the man said in a low voice of relief.
Johnnie nodded curtly as he dismounted.
"Yes," he said, in a voice equally low, putting something furtive andsly into the tones, for he was a consummate actor. "Yes, it is I,Torrome. I must see His Grace at once on matters of high importance."
"His Grace said nothing," the man began.
"I know, I know," Johnnie answered. "It was not thought that I shouldhave to come, but as events turn out"--he struck with his hand upon thedoor as he spoke--"I am to see His Highness at once."
"I trust Her Grace----" the man whispered in a frightened voice.
"Not a word," Commendone replied. "Take our horses and keep watch overthem also. My man cometh in with me. Word will be sent out to you anonwhat to do."
The man bowed, and gathered up the bridle of the two new horses on hisarm; while as he did so, the big red door swung open a little, and athin face, covered with a mask of black velvet, peered out at thenewcomers.
"It is all right," the valet said, in French. "This gentleman is of thesuite of His Highness."
The peering, masked face scrutinised Johnnie for a second, then nodded,and the red lips below twisted into a sinister smile.
"Enter, sir," came in a soft, cooing voice. "I remember you three nightsback...."
Johnnie entered, closely followed by Hull, and the door was closedbehind him. They stood once more in the quiet carpeted passage, with itssense of mystery, its heavily perfumed air, and once again the tallnondescript figure flitted noiselessly in front of them, and scratchedupon a panel of the big door at the end of the passage. There was thetinkle of a bell within. The door was opened. Johnnie pushed aside thecurtains and entered the room, hung with crimson arras, powdered withthe design of gold bats, lit with its hanging silver lamps, and reekingwith the odour of the scented gums which were burning there.
Madame La Motte rose from her chair behind the little table as theyentered. The big, painted face was quite still and motionless, like amask, but the eyes glanced with quick, cunning brightness at Commendoneand his companion--the only things alive in that huge countenance. Sherecognised Johnnie in a moment, and then her eyebrows went up into herforehead and the lower part of her face moved down a little, as if thewhole were actuated by the sudden pull of a lever.
"_Mon gars_," she said, in French, "and what brings you here to-night?And who is this?..."
Her eyes had fallen upon the broad figure of the serving-man in hisleather coat, his short sword hanging from his belt, his hand upon hisdagger.
She might well look in alarm, this ancient, evil woman, for the keenbrown face of the servant was gashed and lined with a terrible and quietfury, the lips curled away from the teeth, the fore part of the body wasbent forward a little as if to spring.
Johnnie took two steps up to the woman.
"Madam," he said, in a voice so low that it was hardly more than awhisper, but every syllable of which was perfectly distinct and clear,"a lady has been stolen from her friends, and brought to this hell.Where is she?"
The woman knew in a moment why they had come. She gave a sudden swiftglance towards the door in the arras at the other side of the room,which told Commendone all he wanted to know.
"It is true, then?" he said. "Thou cat of hell, bound mistress of thefiend, she is here?"
The huge body of the woman began to tremble like a jelly, slowly atfirst in little shivers, and then more rapidly until face and shapelessform shook and swayed from side to side in a convulsion of fear, whileall the jewels upon her winked and flashed.
As the young man bent forward and looked into her face, she found avoice, a horrid, strangled voice. "I know nothing," she coughed.
There was a low snarl, like a wakened panther, as Commendone, shudderingas he did so, gripped one bare, powdered shoulder.
"Silence!" he said.
With one convulsive effort, the woman shot out a fat hand, and rang thelittle silver bell upon the table.
Almost immediately the door swung open; there was a swish of curtains,and the tall, fantastic figure of the creature who had let them into thehouse stood there.
"_Allez--la maison en face--viens toi vite,--Jules, Louis._"
Commendone clapped his hand over the woman's mouth, just as the eel-likecreature at the door, realising the situation in a moment, was glidingthrough the curtains to summon the bullies of the house.
But John Hull was too quick for him. He caught him by the arm, wrenchedhim back into the room, sent him spinning into the centre of it, andtook two steps towards him, his right fist half raised to deal him agreat blow.
The creature mewed like a cat, ducked suddenly and ran at the yeoman,gripping him round the waist with long, thin arms.
There was no sound as they struggled--this long, eel-like thing, in itsmask and crimson robe twining round his sturdy opponent like someparasite writhing with evil life.
John Hull rocked, striving to bend forward and get a grip of hisantagonist. But it was useless. He could do nothing, and he was beingslowly forced backwards towards the door.
There was horror upon the man's brown face, horror of this silent,clinging thing which fought with fury, and in a fashion that none otherhad fought with him in all his life.
Then, as he realised what was happening, he stood up for a moment,staggering backwards as he did so, pulled out the dagger from his beltand struck three great blows downwards into the thin scarlet back,burying the steel up to the hilt at each fierce stroke.
There was a sudden "Oh," quite quiet and a little surprised, the sort ofsound a man might make when he sees a friend come unexpectedly into hisroom....
That was all. It was over in some thirty seconds, there was aconvulsive wriggle on the floor, and the man, if indeed it was a man,lay on its back stiff in death. The mask of black velvet had been tornoff in the struggle, and they saw a tiny white face, painted andhairless, set on the end of a muscular and stringy neck--a monster lyingthere in soulless death.
"Have you killed it?" Commendone asked, suddenly.
"Yes, master." Hull's head was averted from what lay upon the carpet,even while he was pushing it towards the heap of cushions at the side ofthe room. Leaning over the body, he took a cushion from the heap
--agaudy thing of green and orange--and wiped his boot.
"Listen!" Johnnie said, still with his hand covering the woman's face.
They listened intently. Not a sound was to be heard.
"As I take it," Commendone answered, "there are no men in the houseexcept only those two we have come to seek. The alarm hath not beengiven, and that _eunuque_ is dead. We must settle Madame here." Helaughed a grim, menacing laugh as he spoke.
Immediately the figure in his hands began to writhe and tremble, thefeet beat a dull tattoo upon the carpet, the eyes protruded from theirlayers of paint, a snorting, snuffling noise came from beneathCommendone's hand. He caught it away instantly, shuddering withdisgust.
"Kill me not! kill me not!" the old woman gasped. "They are upstairs,the King and his friend. The girl is there. I know nothing of her, shewas brought to me in the dark by the King's servants. Kill me not; Iwill stay silent." Her voice failed. She fell suddenly back in herchair, and looked at them with indescribable horror in her eyes.
"I'll see to her, master," Hull said in a quiet voice, his face stilldistorted with mastiff-like fury.
He caught up his blood-stained dagger from the floor, stepped to thestiffened corpse, curved by tetanus into a bow, and ripped up a longpiece of the gown which covered it. Quickly and silently he tied the oldwoman's ankles together, her hands behind her back--the podgy wristswould not meet, nor near it--and again he went to the corpse for furtherbonds.
"And now to stop her mouth," he said, "or she will be calling."
Commendone took out his handkerchief. "Here," he said. In an instantHull had rolled it into a ball, pressed it between the painted lips, andtied it in its place with the last strip of velvet.
All this had taken but hardly a minute. Then he stood up and looked athis master. "The time comes," he said.
Johnnie nodded, and walked slowly, with quiet footsteps, towards thedoor in the arras at the other side of the room.
He felt warily for the handle, found it, turned it gently, and saw anarrow stairway stretching upwards, and lit by a lamp somewhere above.The stair was uncarpeted, but it was of old and massive oak, and,drawing his sword, he crept cautiously up, Hull following him like acat.
They found themselves in a corridor with doors on each side, each doorpainted with a big white number. It was lit, warm, and very still.
Johnnie put his fingers to his lips, and both men listened intently.
The silence was absolute. They might have been in an empty house. Nosingle indication of human movement came to them as they stood there.
For nearly a minute they remained motionless. Their eyes were fixed andhorror-struck, their ears strained to an intensity of listening.
Then, at last, they heard a sound, quite unexpectedly and very near.
It came from the door immediately upon their right, which was paintedwith the number "3," and was simply the click of a sword in itsscabbard. Johnnie took two noiseless steps to the door, settled hissword in his hand, flung it open, and leapt in.
He was in a large low room panelled round its sides, the panels paintedwhite, the beadings picked out in crimson. A carpet covered the floor, alow fire burnt upon a wide open hearth. There were two or three paddedsofa lounges here and there, and in front of the fire-place in ridingclothes, though without his hat or gloves, stood Sir John Shelton.
There was a dead silence for several seconds, only broken by the clickof the outer door, as Hull pushed it into its place, and shot the bolt.
Shelton grew very white, but said nothing.
With his sword ready to assume the guard, Johnnie walked to the centreof the room.
The bully's face grew whiter still. Little drops of moisture glistenedon his forehead, and on his blonde moustache.
Then he spoke.
"Ah! Mr. Commendone!" he said, with a horrid little laugh. "News fromCourt, I suppose? Is it urgent? His Grace is engaged within, but I willacquaint him. His Grace is engaged----" There came a titter of discoveryand fear from his lips. His words died away into silence.
Johnnie advanced towards him, his sword pointed at his heart.
"What does this mean, Mr. Commendone?"
"Death."
The man's sword was out in a moment. The touch of it seemed to bring thelife back to him, and with never a word, he sprang at Commendone. He wasa brave man enough, a clever fencer too, but he knew now that his hourhad come. He read it in the fixed face before him, that face of frozenfury. He knew it directly the blades touched. Indeed he was no matchfor Commendone, with his long training, and clean, abstemious life. Buteven had he been an infinitely superior swordsman, he knew that he wouldhave had no chance in that moment. There was something behind the youngman's arm which no Sir John Shelton could resist.
The blades rattled together and struck sparks in the lamp-light. Click!Clatter! Click!--"Ah!" the long-drawn breath, a breath surging up fromthe very entrails--Click! Clatter! Click!
The fierce cold fury of that fight was far beyond anything in war, orthe ordinary duello. It was _a outrance_, there was only one end to it,and that came very swiftly.
Commendone was not fighting for safety. He cared not, and knew nothing,of what the other might have in reserve. He did not even wait to testhis adversary's tricks of fence, as was only cautious and usual. Nothingcould have withstood him, and in less than two minutes from the time themen had engaged, the end came. Commendone made a half-lunge, which wasparried by the dagger in Sir John's left hand, and then, quick aslightning, his sword was through Shelton's throat, through and through.
The Captain fell like a log, hiccoughed, and lay still.
"Two," said John Hull.
Johnnie withdrew his sword, holding it downwards, watching it drip; thenhe turned to his servant. "Sir John was here on guard," he said; "thisis the ante-room to where She is. But I see no door, save only the oneby which we entered."
"Hist!" Hull replied, almost before his master had finished speaking.
He pointed to the opposite wall, and both men saw a long, narrow bar oforange light, a momentarily widening slit, opening in a panel.
The panel swung back entirely, forming a sort of hatch or window, andthrough it, yellow, livid, and terror-struck, looked the face of theKing.
Without a word John Hull rushed towards that part of the wall. When hewas within a yard of it he gathered himself up and leapt against it,like a battering-ram. There was a crash, as the concealed door was tornaway from its hinges. Hull lay measuring his length upon the floor, andJohnnie leaped over the prostrate form into the room beyond.
This is what he saw:
In one corner of the room, close to a large couch covered with richsilks, Elizabeth Taylor stood against the wall. They had dressed her ina long white robe of the Grecian sort, with a purple border round thehem of the skirt, the short sleeves and the low neck. Her face was awhite wedge of terror, her arms were upraised, the palms of her handsturned outwards, as if to ward off some horror unspeakable.
King Philip, at the other corner of the room, standing by the debris ofthe broken door, was perfectly motionless, save only for his head,which was pushed forward and moved from side to side with a slowreptilian movement.
He was dressed entirely in black, his clothes in disarray, and the thinhair upon his head was matted in fantastic elf-locks with sweat.
He saw the set face of Commendone, his drawn and bloody sword. He sawthe thick leathern-coated figure of the yeoman rise from the floor. Bothwere confronting him, and he knew in a flash that he was trapped.
Johnnie looked at his master for a moment, and then turned swiftly."Elizabeth," he said, "Elizabeth!"
At his voice the girl's hands fell from her face. She looked at him fora second in wild amazement, and then she cried out, in a high, quaveringvoice of welcome, "Johnnie! Johnnie! you've come!"
He put his arms about her, soothing, stroking her hair, speaking in alow, caressing voice, as a man might speak to a child. And all the timehis heart, which had been frozen into deadly purp
ose, was leaping,bounding, and drumming within him so furiously, so strongly, that itseemed as if his body could hardly contain it. This mortal frame mustsurely be dissolved and swept away by such a tumult of feeling.
She had only seen him once. She had never received his little posy ofwhite flowers, but he was "Johnnie" to her.
"They have not hurt you, my maid?" he said. "Tell me they have notharmed you."
She shook her head. Happiness sponged away the horror which had beenupon her face. "No, Johnnie," she answered, clinging, her fingersclutching for a firmer hold of him. "No, Johnnie, only they took meaway, and Alice, that is my maid. They took me away violently, and Ihave been penned up here in this place until that man came and saidstrange things to me, and would embrace me."
"Sit you here, my darling maid," the young man said, "sit you here,"guiding her to the couch hard by. "He shall do you no harm. Thou artwith me, and thy good friend there, thy father's yeoman."
She had not seen John Hull before, but now she looked up at him overJohnnie's arm, and smiled. "'Tis all well now," she murmured, droopingand half-faint. "Hull is here, and thou also, Johnnie."
Even in the wild joy of finding her, and knowing instinctively that shewas to be his, that she had thought of him so much, Commendone lostnothing of his sang-froid.
He knew that desperate as had been his adventure when he started outfrom the Tower, it was now more desperate still. He and Hull had takentheir lives in their hands when they went to Duck Lane. Their enterprisehad so far been successful, their rescue complete, but--and he was in noway mistaken--the enterprise was not over, and his life was worth evena smaller price than it had been before.
With that, he turned from the girl, and strode up to the King, beforewhom John Hull had been standing, grimly silent.
Commendone's sword was still in his hand; he had not relinquished iteven when he had embraced Elizabeth, and now he stood before his master,the point upon the floor, his young face set into judgment.
"And now, Sire?" he said, shortly and quickly.
Philip's face was flushed with shame and fear, but at these sharp words,he drew himself to his full height.
"Senor," he said, "you are going to do something which will damn you forever in the sight of God and Our Lady. You are going to slay theanointed of the Lord. I will meet death at your hands, and doubtless formy sins I have deserved death; but, nevertheless, you will be damned."
Then he threw his arms out wide, and there came a sob into his voice asthe liquid Spanish poured from him.
"But to die thus!" he said. "Mother of God! to die thus! unshrived, withmy sins upon me!"
Johnnie tapped impatiently with the point of his sword upon the floor.
"Kill you, Sire?" he said. "I have sworn the oath of allegiance to HerGrace, the Queen, and eke to you. I break no oaths. Kill you I willnot. Kill you I cannot. I dare not raise my hand against the King."
He dropped on one knee. "Sire," he said again, "I am your Gentleman, andyou will go free from this vile house as you came into it."
Then he rose, took his sword, snapped it across his knee--staining hishands in doing so--and flung it into the corner of the room.
"And that is that," he said, with a different manner. "So now as man toman, as from one gentleman to another, hear my voice. You are agentleman of high degree, and you are King also of half this globe,named, and glad to be named His Most Catholic Majesty. Of your kingshipI am not at this moment aware. I am not Royal. But as a gentleman and aChristian, I tell you to your face that you are low and vile. Youdeceive a wife that loveth you. You take maidens to force them to yourwill. If you were a simple gentleman I would kill you where you stood.No! If thou wert a simple gentleman, I would not cross swords with thee,because thou art unworthy of my sword. I would tell my man here to slitthee and have done. But as thou art a King"--he spat upon the floor inhis disgust--"and I am sworn to thee, I cannot punish thee as I would,thou son of hell, thou very scurvy, lying, and most dirty knave."
The King's face was a dead white now. He lifted his hands and beat withthem upon his breast. "_Mea culpa! Mea culpa!_ What have I done that Ishould endure this?"
"What no King should ever do, what no gentleman could ever do."
The King's hands dropped to his side.
"I am wearing no sword," he said quietly, "as you see, Senor, butdoubtless you will provide me with one. If you will meet me here andnow, as a simple gentleman, then I give you licence to kill me. I willdefend myself as best I am able."
Johnnie hesitated, irresolutely. All the training of his life was up inarms with the wishes and the emotions of the moment--until he heard thevoice of common sense.
John Hull broke in. The man had not understood one word of the Spanish,but he had realised its meaning, and the keen, untutored intelligence,focused upon the flying minutes, saw very clearly into the future.
"Master," he said, "cannot ye see that all this is but chivalry andetiquette of courts? Cannot ye see that if ye kill His Highness, Englandwill not be big enough to hide thee? Cannot ye see, also, that if thoudost not kill him, but let him go, England will not be big enough tohide thee either? Master, we must settle this business with speed, andget far away before the hue and cry, for I tell thee, that this bloodynight's work will bring thee, and Mistress Elizabeth, and myself to therack and worse torture, to the stake, and worse than that. Haste! speed!we must be gone. There is but one thing to be done."
"And what is that, John Hull?"
"Why, thou art lost in a dream, master! To tie up His Highness so thathe cannot move or speak for several hours. To send that Spaniard whichis his man, away from the door outside, and then to fly from thisaccursed house, you, I, and the little mistress, and hide ourselves, ifGod will let us, from the wrath to come."
The quick, decisive words were so absolutely true, so utterlyunanswerable, that Johnnie nodded, though he shuddered as he did so.
Upon that, John Hull strode up to the King.
"Put your hands behind you, Sire," he said.
The King was wearing a dagger in his belt. As Hull came up to him, hisface was transfixed with fury. He drew it out and lunged at the man'sheart.
Hull was standing a little obliquely to the blow, the dagger glancedupon his leather surcoat, cut a long groove, and glanced harmlesslyaway.
With that, Hull raised his great brown fist and smote King Philip in theface, driving him to the floor. He was on him in a moment, crouchingover him with one hand upon the Royal throat.
"Quick, master; quick, master! Quick, master! Bonds! Bonds! We must e'entruss him up, as we did her ladyship below."
It was done. The King was tied and bound. It was done as gently aspossible, and they did not gag him.
Together they laid him upon the floor.
Slow, half-strangled, and venomous words came, came in gouts ofpoisonous sound, which made the sweet Spanish hideous....
"The whole world, Mr. Commendone, will not be wide enough to hide you,your paramour, and this villain from my vengeance."
Johnnie would have heard anything but that one word--that shameful word.At the word "paramour," hardly knowing what he did, he lifted his handand struck the bound and helpless King upon the face.
A timepiece from the next room beat. It was one o'clock in the morning.
Johnnie turned to Elizabeth. "Come, sweetheart," he said, in a hurried,agitated voice, "come away from this place."
He took her by the arm, half leading, half supporting her, and togetherthey passed out of the room, without so much as a backward glance at thebound figure upon the floor. As they went through the broken doorway inthe ante-room, John Hull pressed after them, and walked on the otherside of Elizabeth, talking to her quickly in a cheery voice.
As he looked over the girl's head at his servant, Johnnie knew what Hullwas doing. He was hiding the corpse of Sir John Shelton from the girl'sview.
They came into the corridor, and descended the stairs. Just as they wereabout to open the door in the arras, Hull stoppe
d them upon the loweststep.
"I will go first, master," he said, and again Johnnie realised what wasmeant.
When a few seconds afterwards, he and Elizabeth entered thetapestry-hung room; the great pile of cushions upon the left-hand sidewas a little higher, but that was all.
The girl raised her hands to her throat. "Oh," she said, "Johnnie, thankGod you came! I cannot bear it. Take me home, take me home now, to Mr.Cressemer and Aunt Catherine."
Johnnie took her hands in his own, holding her very firmly by thewrists, and looked full into her face.
"Dear," he said, "you cannot go to Mr. Cressemer's. You know nothing ofwhat has happened this night. You do not realise anything at all. Willyou trust in me?"
"Yes," she faltered, though her eyes were firm.
"Then, if you do that, and if God helps us," he said, with a gasp in histhroat, "we may yet win to safety and life, though I doubt it.Sweetheart, it is right that I should tell you that man upstairs in theroom is the King Consort, husband of Her Grace the Queen."
The girl gave a loud, startled cry, and instantly Commendone sawcomprehension flash into her face.
"Sit here," he said to her, putting a chair for her.
Then he turned. Behind the ebony table, motionless, vast, and purple inthe face, was the great mummy of the procuress.
"What shall we do?" he said to Hull.
"The first thing, master, is to send the Spanish valet away; that youmust do, and therein lies our chance."
Johnnie nodded. He passed out into the passage, went to the front door,pulled aside three huge bolts which worked with a lever very silently,for they were all oiled, and let in a puff of fresh wind from thestreet.
For a moment he could see nothing in the dark. He called in Spanish:"Torrome, Torrome, where are you? Come here at once." He had hardly doneso when the cloaked figure of the valet came out from behind a buttress.
"Ah, Senor," he said, "I am perished with this cold wind. His Highnessis ready, then?"
Johnnie shook his head. "No," he answered, "His Highness and Sir Johnare still engaged, but I am sent to tell you that you may go home. I andmy man will attend His Highness to the Tower, but we shall not comeuntil dawn. Go you back to the King's lodging, and if His Highness dothnot come in due time, keep all inquiries at bay. He will be sick--youunderstand?"
Torrome nodded.
"Then get you to horse, leave His Highness's horse with ours, and speedback to the Tower as soon as may be."
Commendone waited until the man had mounted, very glad to be relieved ofhis long waiting, and was trotting towards London Bridge. Then he closedthe door, pulled the lever, and went back into the red, scented room.
He saw that Hull had cut the strips of red velvet that bound Madame LaMotte, the gag was taken from her mouth, and he was holding a goblet ofwine to the thick, swollen, and bleeding lips.
There was a long deep sigh and gurgle. The woman shuddered, gaspedagain, and then some light and understanding came into her eyes, and shestared out in front of her.
"What are we to do?" Johnnie asked his servant once more.
"What have ye done, masters?" came in a dry whisper from the oldwoman--it was like the noise a man makes walking through parched grassin summer. "What have ye done, masters?"
Hull answered: "We have killed your servitor, as ye saw," he said, witha half glance towards the piled cushions against the wall. "Sir JohnShelton is dead also; Mr. Commendone killed him in fair fight."
"And the King, the King?"--the whisper was dreadful in its anxiety andfear.
"He lieth bound in that room of shame where you took my lady."
There was silence for a moment, and the old woman glanced backwards andforwards at Hull and Commendone. What she read in their faces terrifiedher, and again she shook horribly.
"Sir," she said to Commendone, "if this be my last hour, then so mote itbe, but I swear that I knew nothing. I was told at high noon yesterdaythat a girl was to be sent here, that Sir John and the valet of HisHighness would bring her. I knew, and know nothing of who she is. I didbut do as I have always done in my trade. And, messieurs, it was theKing's command. Now ye have come, and there is the lady unharmed, pleaseGod."
"Please God!" Johnnie said brutally. "You hag of hell, who are you touse that name?"
The fat, artificially whitened hands, with their glittering rings fellupon the table with a dull thud.
"Who am I, indeed?" she said. "You may well ask that, but I tell youothers of my women received this lady. I have not seen her until now."
"Indeed she hath not," came in a low, startled voice from Elizabeth.
"Sir," La Motte went on, "I see now that this is the end of my sinfullife. Kill me an ye wish, I care not, for I am dead already, and so alsoare you, and the young mistress there, and your man too."
"What mean you?" Johnnie said.
"What mean I? Why, upstairs lieth the King, bound. We all have two orthree miserable hours, and then we shall be found, and what we shallendure will pass the bitterness of death before death comes. That,messieurs, you know very well.
"So what matters it," she continued, her extraordinary vitalityovercoming everything, her voice growing stronger each moment, "whatmatters it! Let us drink wine one to the other, to death! in this houseof death, in this house to which worse than death cometh apace."
She reached out for the flagon of wine before her with a cackle oflaughter.
It was too true. Commendone knew it well. He looked at Hull, andtogether they both looked at Elizabeth Taylor.
The girl, in the long white robe which they had put on her, rose fromher seat and came between them, tall, slim, and now composed. She putone hand upon Johnnie's shoulder and laid the other with an affectionategesture upon Hull's arm.
"Look you," she said, "Mr. Commendone, and you, John Hull, my father'sfriend, what matters it at all? I see now all that hath passed. There isno hope for us, none at all. Therefore let us praise God, pray to Him,and die. We shall soon be with my father in heaven; and, sure, he seethall this, and is waiting for us."
John Hull's face was knitted into thought. He hardly seemed to hear thegirl's voice at all.
"Mistress Lizzie," he said, almost peevishly, "pr'ythee be silent amoment. Master, look you. 'Tis this way. They will come again and findHis Highness when he returneth not to the Tower, but he will dare donothing against us openly for fear of the Queen's Grace. Were it knownthat he had come to such a stew as this, the Queen would ne'er give himher confidence again. She would ne'er forgive him. Doubtless thevengeance will pursue us, but it cannot be put in motion for some hoursuntil the King is rescued, and has had time to confer with his familiarsand think out a plan. After that, when they catch us, nothing will availus, because nothing we can say will be believed. But we are not caughtyet."
Johnnie, who for the last few moments had been quite without hope,looked up quickly at his servant's words.
"You are right," he said, "in what you say; there speaketh good sense.Very well, then we must get away at once. But where shall we go? If wego to His Worship's house, we shall soon be discovered, and bring HisWorship and Mistress Catherine with us to the rack and stake. If we goto my father's house in Kent, he will not be able to hide us; it will bethe first place to which they will look."
He spread his arms out in a gesture of despair.
"You see," he said, "we in this room to-night have no refuge norharbour. For a few hours, a day it may be, we can lie lost fromvengeance. But after that no earthly power can save us. We have done thething for which there is no pardon."
"I don't like, master, to wait for death in this way," Hull answered."But art wiser than I, and so it must be. But pr'ythee let us have alittle course. The hounds may come, but let us run before them, andthen, if death is at the end of it, well--well, there's an end on't; andso say I."
There was a voice behind them, a voice speaking in broken but fluentEnglish.
"You have broken into my house, you have killed my servant, you haveprevented
me from calling for help from you, a King lies bound in myupper chamber, _v'la_! And now you go to run a little course, to scurryhither and thither before the dogs are at your throats. You are allprepared to die. I also am ready to die if it must be so, but it neednot be so if you will listen to me."
"What mean you?" Johnnie said.
As he spoke he saw, with a mingling of surprise and disgust, that thebig painted face of Madame La Motte was full of animation andexcitement. She seemed as if the events of the last hour had but stirredher to endeavour, had given a fillip to her sluggish life.
More astonishing than all, she rose from her chair, gathering togetherher vast, unwieldy bulk, came round from behind the table, and joinedtheir conference almost with vivacity.
"_Tiens_," she said, "there are other countries than this. An armybeaten in an engagement is not always routed. Retreat is possible withinfriendly frontiers."
The horrible old creature had such a strength and personality about herthat, with her blood-stained mouth, her great panting body, hertrembling jewelled hands, she yet in that moment dominated them all.
"There is one last chance. At dawn--and dawn is near by--the ship _St.Iago_ sails from the Thames for foreign parts. The master of the ship,Clark, is"--she lowered her voice and spoke only to Commendone--"is aclient of mine here. He is much indebted to me in many ways, and ere daybreaks we may all be aboard of her and sailing away. What is't to be,messieurs?"
They all looked at each other for a moment in silence.
Then Elizabeth put her arms round the old woman's neck and kissed her.
"Madame," she said, "surely God put this into your heart to save us all.I will come with you, and Johnnie will come, and good John Hull withal,and so we may escape and live."
The old Frenchwoman patted the slim girl upon the back. "_Bien,cherie_," she said, "that's a thing done. I will look after you and be amother to you, and so we will all be happy."
Commendone and his servant looked on in amazement. At this dreadfulhour, in this moment of extremest peril, the wicked old woman seemed totake charge of them all. She did not seem wicked now, only genial andcompetent, though there was a tremor of fear in her voice and hermovements were hurried and decisive.
"Jean-Marie," she called suddenly, and then, "Phut! I forgot. It isunder the cushions. Well, we must even do without a messenger. Have youmoney, Master Commendone?"
Johnnie shook his head. "Not here."
"_Mais, mon Dieu!_ I have a plenty," she answered, "which is good forall of us. Wait you here."
She hurried away, and went up the stair towards the rooms above.
"Shall I follow her, master?" Hull said, his hand upon his dagger.
Johnnie shook his head.
"No," he answered, "she is in our boat. She must sink or swim with us."
They waited there for five or ten minutes, hearing the heavy noise ofMadame's progress above their heads. They waited there, and as they didso the room seemed to become cold, their blood ran slowly within them,the three grouped themselves close together as if for mutual warmth andconsolation.
Then they heard a high-pitched voice at the top of the stairs.
"Send your man up, Monsieur, send your man up. I have no strength tolift this bag."
At a nod from Johnnie, Hull ran up the stairs. In a moment more he camedown, staggering under the burden of a great leather wallet slung overhis shoulder, and was followed by Madame La Motte, now covered in a furcloak and hood.
She held another on her arm. "Put it on, put it on," she said toElizabeth, "quickly. We must get out of this. The dawn comes, the windfreshens, we have but an hour."
And then in the ghostly dawn the four people left the House of Shame,left it with the red door open to the winds, and hurried away towardsthe river.
None of them spoke. The old dame in her fur robe shuffled on withextraordinary vitality, past straggling houses, past inns from whichnautical signs were hung, for a quarter of a mile towards the mud-marshwhich fringed the pool of Thames. She walked down a causeway of stones,sunk in the mud and gravel, to the edge of the water.
It was now high tide and the four came out in the grey light upon alittle stone quay where some sheds were set.
In front of one of them, heavily covered with tar, a lantern was stillburning, wan and yellow in the coming light of day.
Madame La Motte kicked at the door of this shed with her high-heeledshoe. There was no response. She opened the door, burst into a stuffy,foetid place where two men were lying upon coils of rope. She stirredthem with her foot, but they were in heavy sleep, and only groaned andsnored in answer.
"I'll wake them, Madame," Johnnie said, "I'll stir them up," his voicefull of that thin, high note which comes to those who feel themselveshunted. He clapped his hand to his side to find his sword; his fingerstouched an empty scabbard. Then he remembered.
"I am swordless," he cried, forgetting everything else as he realisedit.
Behind him there was a thud and a clanking, as John Hull dropped theleathern bag he held.
"Say not so, master," he said, and held out to the young man a sword ina scabbard of crimson leather, its hilt of gold wire, its guard set withemeralds and rubies, the belt which hung down on either side of theblade, of polished leather studded with little stars and bosses of gold.
"What is this?"
"Look you, sir, as we passed out of Madame's room, I saw this swordleaning in a corner of the wall by the door. His Highness had left itthere, doubtless, ere he went upstairs. 'So,' says I to myself, 'this istrue spoil of war, and in especial for my master!'"
Johnnie took the sword, looked at it for a moment, and then unbuttonedhis own belt and girded it on.
"So shall it be for a remembrance to me," he said, "for now and always."
But he did not need to use it. Madame's exertions had been sufficient.Her shrill, angry voice had wakened the watermen. They rose to theirfeet, wiped their eyes, and, seeing persons of quality before them, theyhastened down the little hard and embarked the company in their wherry.Then they pulled out into the stream. The tide was running fast andfree towards the Nore, but they made for a large ship of quite sixhundred tons, which was at anchor in mid-stream. When they came up toit, and caught the hanging ladder upon the quarter with a boat-hook, thedeck was already busy with seamen in red caps, and a tarry, bearded oldsalt, his head tied up in a woollen cloth, was standing on the highpoop, and cursing the men below. Madame La Motte saw him first. She puttwo fat fingers in her mouth and gave a long whistle, like a street boy.
The captain looked round him, up into the rigging where the sailors werealready busy upon the yards, looked to his right, looked to his left,and then straight down from the poop upon the starboard quarter, and sawMadame La Motte. He stumbled down the steps on to the main deck, andpeered over the bulwarks. "Mother of God!" he cried, "and what's this,so early in the morning?"
The old Frenchwoman shrieked up at him in her broken English. "_Tiens!Tiens!_ Send your men to help us up, Captain Clark. Thou art not awake.Do as I tell you."
The captain rubbed his eyes again, called out some orders, and in amoment or two Johnnie had mounted the ladder, and stood upon the deck.
"Now the ladies," he said in a quick, authoritative voice.
Elizabeth came up to the side, and then it was the question of MadameLa Motte. John Hull stood in the tossing, heaving wherry, and gave thewoman her first impetus. She clawed the side ropes, cursing and spittinglike a cat as she did so, mounting the low waist of the ship like agreat black slug. As soon as she got within arm's length of the captainand a couple of sailors, they caught her and heaved her on board as ifshe had been a sack, and within ten seconds afterwards John Hull, withthe leather bag over his shoulder, stood on the deck beside them.Johnnie felt in his pocket and found some coins there. He flung themover to the watermen, and they fell in the centre of the boat as itsheered off.
Mr. Clark, captain of the _St. Iago_, was now very wide awake.
"I will thank ye, Mada
me," he said, "to explain your boarding of my shipwith your friends."
The quick-witted Frenchwoman went up to him, put her fat arms round hisneck, pulled his head down, and spoke in his ear for a minute. When shehad finished the captain raised his head, scratched his ear, and lookeddoubtfully at Commendone, Elizabeth, and John Hull.
"Well," he said, in a thick voice, "since you say it, I suppose I must,though there is little accommodation on board for the likes of you. Youpay your passage, Madame, I suppose?"
"Phut! I will make you rich."
The captain's eyes contracted with leery cunning.
"There is more in this than meets mine eye--that ye should be so eagerto leave London. What have ye done, that is what I would like to know? Imust inquire into this, though we are due to sail. I must send a manashore to speak with the Sheriff----"
"The Sheriff! And where would any of your dirty sailors find the Sheriffat this hour of the morning? You'll lose the tide, Master Clark, andyou'll lose your money, too."
The captain scratched his head again.
"Natheless, I am not sure," he began.
Then Johnnie stepped forward.
"Captain Clark?" he said, in short, quick accents of authority.
"That am I," said the captain.
"Very good. Then you will take these ladies and bestow them as well asyou are able, and you will set sail at once. This ship, I believe,belongs to His Worship the Alderman, Master Robert Cressemer?"
The captain touched his forehead.
"Yes, sir, indeed she does," he answered, in a very different voice.
Johnnie, from where he had been standing, had looked down into thewaist, and had seen the great bags of wool with the Alderman'strade-mark upon them. "Very well," he said, "you'll heave anchor atonce, and this is my warrant."
He put his hand into his doublet and pulled out the Alderman's letter.He showed him the last paragraph of it.
It was enough.
"I crave your pardon, master," the captain said. "I did not know thatyou came from His Worship. That old Moll, I was ready to oblige her,though it seemed a queer thing her coming aboard just as we were settingsail. Why did you not speak at first, sir? Well, all is right. The windis favourable, and off we go."
Turning away from Johnnie, he rushed up to the poop again, put his handto his mouth, and bellowed out a crescendo of orders.
The yards swarmed with men, there was a "Heave ho and a rumbelow," aclanking of the winch as the anchor came up, a flapping of unfurledtopsails at the three square-rigged masts, and in five minutes more the_St. Iago_ began to move down the river.
Johnnie walked along the open planking of the waist, mounted to thepoop, and heard the "lap, lap" and ripple of the river waves against therudder. He turned and saw not far away to his left the White Towergrowing momentarily more distinct and clear in the dawn.
The whole of the Palace and Citadel was clear to view, the two flags ofEngland and Spain were just hoisted, running out before the breeze. Tohis left, as he turned right round, were huddled houses at the southernend of London Bridge. In one of them, empty, lit and blown through bythe morning winds, His Most Catholic Majesty was lying, silent andhelpless.
He turned again, looked forward, and took in a great breath of the saltair.
The cordage began to creak, the sails to belly out, the hoarse voice ofthe pilot by Johnnie's side to call directions. Presently Sheppey Islandcame into view, and the sky above it was all streaked with the promiseof daylight.
Regardless of Captain Clark and two other men, who were busied coilingropes and making the poop ship-shape for the Channel, Johnnie fell uponhis knees, brought the cross-belt of the King's sword to his lips, andthanked God that he was away with his love.