CHAPTER EIGHT.
HOW I WAS CAST ADRIFT.
Master Udal, the minister, was not a man to bandy compliments. He toldme, as we rose next morning, that he had neither the means nor thedesire to keep me at Kingston. There was nothing to make my stay of anyservice to him; nor did the thickness of my skull encourage him to keepme there for my soul's sake.
"In short," said he, "what is to prevent you from going at once? Youcan find breakfast for yourself on the road as soon as I could find itfor you here, and it beseems a body of your size,"--heavens! what a nameto call me--"better to be serving your calling in London than danglinghere at the skirts of a parcel of women. So away with you, HumphreyDexter, and if you should visit us a week hence, come at an hour whenyou can return by the road you came the self-same evening."
I should have been angry, but that I knew I had lost him his nag atOxford, and that the good man (how, I could not guess), was going toboard and lodge my poor mistress and her little ones while theirdistress lasted. I had nothing for it but to obey him meekly. Only Iwas glad he hinted that I might presently come back to see them.
And now, what was to become of me? My master was in the White Lion, mymistress was at Kingston, the house without Temple Bar was in thecustody of Timothy Ryder; there was warrant against me for assaulting aQueen's officer; if I went to Richmond there was a dungeon for me there;if I went home my mother could ill afford to keep me; if I went to theStationers' Company I was too old now to apprentice to anybody. I wasin a bad plight, and what was worst of all, it seemed as if no one caredmuch what I did or what became of me.
"At any rate," said I to myself as I jogged Londonwards, "I can go tothe wars and fight for my Queen--Heaven bless her!"
It was a sore temptation as I passed near Richmond to climb the hill andsee what was going forward at the Hall. That house harboured the twopeople I held dearest in the world, and the one I hated most. Yet I wasafraid to go, not because of Captain Merriman or the cellar, but lest Ishould not read a welcome on Ludar's brow, or should be scorned by thatfair lady. No; I must wait till Ludar came to me in London. Meanwhile,forward thither.
I took the boat we had left last night at Mortlach, and went down on thetide. The hard labour of rowing did me good, and made me forget all butthe biggest of my troubles. I resolved first to go to my master'shouse, and see more closely how the land lay there. To my surprise, asI entered, unexpected, I found great noise and revelry afoot; and theresat in my mistress' snug little parlour Timothy Ryder himself makingmerry with no other than my fellow-apprentice, Peter Stoupe. And if Imistook not, the good cheer on the table came out of Mistress Walgrave'sown larder.
"Oh, he!" thought I. "You are a pretty pair. Now there is like to be apretty three of us."
So I walked in, and just as Master Peter was lifting the tankard to hishypocritical face, I caught him a whack on the back which sent him offhis chair, choking, and groaning aloud that the end of the world wascome.
When they saw who it was, their jaws fell a bit, and Timothy Ryder beganto bluster.
"Come, come," said he. "What do you here? Who bade you here, pray?Know you not this place is in the Company's keeping? Come, make offwith you, rascal, or some of us will see you go keep your rogue of amaster company."
"Hold your peace, beadle," said I, "or you shall swing on the beam overyour head. Here, Peter, get up."
Peter rose, purple in face, and not very steady in the knees.
"Now," said I, "tell me, where got you that ale?"
"Indeed, Humphrey, I was invited to it. I never--"
"Where got you that beef and bread?"
"I--oh, dost thou think so ill of me as to suppose--"
"That when your master is in gaol, and your mistress and her little onesare homeless, you would come here and gorge your vile paunch with thefood that belongs to them? yes, I suppose every word of it, PeterStoupe."
"But," said he, "I have a right as a 'prentice--"
"'Prentice!" shouted I, "you a 'prentice! a mean, chicken-livered,gluttonous sneak like you, a 'prentice! 'fore heaven, you do the crafthonour! Come, bustle away with you, and God save my master from suchdirty thieves as you."
Here Timothy Ryder was foolish enough to laugh; which enraged me pastall enduring.
So, beadle and all as he was, I took him by the nape of his neck like apuppy, and flung him into the Strand, bidding him, as he valued hisbones, not come within arm's length of me or my master's house till Iasked him. As for Peter, he made off without my help; and here I waswith the house to myself.
Then I knew I was in a scrape beside which all the troubles of the pastfew weeks were as nothing. I had shamefully outraged the beadle of theWorshipful Company of Stationers, acting under the authority of hisGrace the Bishop of London! Nothing I could say or do could undo that.Even if I fled now--which I was not in the humour of doing, since myblood was up--it was too late. For already a crowd was in the Strand,some led by curiosity and Peter's lamentations, others by Timothy'shalloos; and before I knew where I stood, I was besieged.
I had barely time to bolt the door and heap up reams of paper across thepassage, before such a battering began as you never heard. I ranupstairs and surveyed the enemy from a window. There were half the menof the Watch there--they wanted me for assaulting a beadle. There wereTimothy and a body of Company's men--they wanted me for defying theauthority of the Master and Wardens. There were my old friends theCourt bullies--they wanted me for the trouble that had happened inFinsbury Fields. There were a crowd of idle town-boys--they wantedtheir fling against a 'prentice. Take it altogether, I seemed to be inrequest.
It was not much use hurling types at them from the window; there wasnothing bigger than Brevier to give them, and that was too small tobreak any bones. Nor had I any other weapon. So I put out my head andshouted "Clubs! Clubs!" with all my voice, and then went down to beready for the first man that should break in.
'Twas not long before the door came down; but then they had to pass thebarrier I had put up in the passage. I had at a few of them acrossthat, and sent them sprawling; but the enemy was too many for me. Andthe clubs outside, although they rose to my call, kept themselves to thetown-boys and court bullies, and were hands-off to the Watch and theCompany. At last one slippery rogue scrambled over the barrier anddodged past me. And while I was engaging him, three or four more didthe same; till presently it seemed the game was up. I had to yield theouter passage and retreat to the printing room, where three of thebesiegers got in with me before I could make to the door. There was notime to lose, for the door was a weak one, and in five minutes would bedown. So I laid about me with the printer's balls, and stunned one ofmy men and upset another. Then I put the third down the trap-door,which stood open, just as the door began to totter inwards. It was timeto go. No good could be got by staying, and whatever came of it, no onewould be the better for my capture. So I darted out by the back waythat I knew of, where nobody looked for me; and running down the garden,and over my Lord's ground to the river's edge, I took a wherry and madefor the other bank.
I could see the crowd presently break through my master's house into thegarden, and stand disappointed when they saw I had given them the slip.But I was beyond pursuit; and they trooped back angrily, I suppose tomake fast the place against my further intrusion.
Much good I had done by my silly riot! My master's house was wrecked,where it need only have been robbed. My mistress' goods and chattelswere no nearer being handed over than they were before; and, since someone must suffer for it all, and I had escaped, it was likely enough mymaster's lot would be all the worse for him by what had happened. I hadno cause to be proud of myself; and to be just, I was not proud.
Now, I knew enough of Peter Stoupe to be sure he would guess I had fledto Kingston. So to disappoint him and the watch both, I turned myboat's head down stream, and resolved to lie hid a week in the citybefore I showed myself again there. By that time the hue and cry wouldhave ceased, a
nd, further, the time named by Master Udal for my visitwould be come.
As luck would have it, I was hailed, as I rowed under London Bridge, bya man from a vessel which had just dropped anchor in the pool. She wasa French craft, full of merchandise, part for London and part for Leith,in Scotland; and being under-manned, the captain, seeing me idle,offered me and a few others plying about three days' work in helping tounload. The offer suited me well; and if ever a free man worked like agalley slave, I did for that week. Yet the French fellow was kindlyenough, and hearing I was a fugitive from the law, he suffered me to lieon his boat at nights, and even let me feed with his men. Finding, too,that I could talk a smattering of his tongue he tempted me sorely totake service northward with him, and become a sailor. I would have doneit but for two things--I must see how my mistress and Jeannette and thelittle ones fared; and, further, I knew not when I might receive asummons from Ludar to fulfil my pledge to him. So I refused, to hisregret, yet we parted friends; and, as you may hear later on, not forthe last time.
At the week's end, I found myself once more knocking at Master's Udaldoor at Kingston. The place looked pleasanter already for the presenceof my gentle mistress and her daughter. The little garden was trim andwell kept, the windows were brighter, and the children's voices nearmade the air gladder. As for Master Udal himself, when he opened thedoor, I could have laughed to see the change in him. His hair waskempt, and the rents in his garments were mended; there was a peep ofruffle at his wrists, and his stockings, which had ever lagged down athis heels, now held up bravely by the buckle at his knee. More thanthat, he looked scared and jaded, like a man undergoing some penance,and doubtful what will be wanted of him next.
But when he saw me his face grew black, and without a word he flung-tothe door in my face. I was so taken aback, that I was minded to laughand suppose the good man to have lost his wits. But when I came toknock again, and no answer, then the jest went out of the business.What had happened? I walked round the house, hoping to meet someone,but not a soul could I see. Then I tried the door again, but with thesame luck as before. At last, quite dazed by the mystery, I gave it upand wandered off anywhere. In the village I met an old man, carryingwood; him I accosted, and asked how the minister fared.
He cackled and laid down his faggots.
"Grammercy, the poor lad's head is turned, neighbour. The Frenchwomanwho has come has looked over him. Why--he! he!--he's been to thebarber's, and--he! he!--he preached an hour short on Sunday, and,forgive us! he hath gotten him a new shirt. She's a witch, I tell'ee;and mark me if the next bundle of sticks I carry up be not for herburning. Ha! ha!"
I told him he was a fool; but the idea was firm stuck in his head, andmore I could not get out of him. No doubt but the presence of two sweetwomen in his house had sorely exercised the minister, but that was notenough to make him shut the door just now in my face and vouchsafe menot a word after my journey.
I wandered on towards the river, wondering what I was to do, when I cameupon a sight which explained everything in a twinkling. Down on thebank sat, side by side, Peter Stoupe and the boy Prosper, fishingamicably in the stream. It needed no conjurer to say now who had comebetwixt me and my master's family. Peter, no doubt, had brought down apretty story of me from London; and if, as I feared, my riot with theCompany had made matters only worse for my master in the White Lion, itwould be easy for my mistress to believe any evil that was told of me.And as for Master Udal, Peter Stoupe was just the lad to pay dutifulheed to his exhortations, and so find admittance where I, a fool andreprobate, was not allowed.
I came on them so suddenly that I had not time to retire before they sawme. Peter seemed taken aback at the sight of me, but the boy Prosper,being a gallant lad, and greatly emboldened by the presence of hisprotector, rose up with a red face, and shouting, "There goes thevillain! Have at you!" flung a stone my way, and would have followed itup had not Peter taken his arm and forcibly held him back.
That was quite enough for me. Had I been guilty of the villainy theysuspected, I could not have turned tail more miserably. Had Peter beenthere alone, I might perhaps have solaced myself by pitching him outinto the river. As it was, I could find nothing to say or do except tosneak away and leave them--one smiling, the other storming at myretreat.
That was not the worst. As I passed once more near the minister's houseon my way to reach the London road, I came upon my mistress andJeannette, walking slowly beneath the willows. At sight of them, myheart thumped hard within me, and I resolved at least to say a word formyself. But as I doffed my cap and crossed the way to meet them, I sawthat my mistress looked hurt and distant, and, turning her head from me,drew the maid's arm in hers, and walked forward without heeding me. Itstunned me, so that I could not even put one foot before the other, butstood there in the road, cap in hand, gasping for breath, and gazingafter them like a man in a trance. Once, when they had gone a step ortwo, Jeannette glanced round with tears in her eyes, and a look thatseemed not all reproach. But her mother drew her forward, and sheturned; after which, for long enough, I saw her face no more.
That moment, as I stood there, was a crisis with me. My old life seemedsuddenly to have drifted from me. One after another the bonds that heldme to it had snapped and sundered. The pleasant 'prentice days wereover. My master was in gaol, my occupation was gone, the Company fromwhich I hoped promotion were out against me--London was no place for menow. Even my mistress frowned on me, and my sweet Jeannette, who waswont to believe in me through thick and thin, had turned away.
Was it a wonder, then, if my mind turned with a swing to the only friendthat was left me, or if I vowed with myself that, if Sir Ludar wouldhave me, I would follow him wherever he should lead?
My spirits rose--such is the buoyancy of youth--even as I turned andwalked towards Richmond. Ten days ago I had not been my own master tofollow him when he bade me. To-day, save my Queen, no man but he had aclaim on me--ay, and what use had her Majesty for a villain like me whohad assaulted a beadle!
It was late at night when I came near Richmond. I durst not show myselfin the village, but hid that night in a hut near the river, wonderinghow I should apprise Ludar of my presence; and ever and anon, in myweakness, asking myself how it would fare with me were I to find that hetoo had deserted me?
All the next day I wandered about, hoping for news, but getting none.One man whom I accosted looked so hard at me when I questioned him aboutthe Hall, that I gave him no time to answer, but slunk away to avoidhim. At night, my patience came well-nigh to an end, and I resolved,come what would of it, to go to the park, if by chance I might meetLudar there or at least send him a message.
It was dark when I climbed the palings. There was little chance, unlessI marched boldly to the door of the Hall, of seeing him that night, so Iresolved to bide my time, and lying somewhere within view of the house,watch till he came out in the morning. I found a thick clump of bushesseparated from the house by the width of a lawn. Behind these Iensconced myself, and composed my limbs as best I might to awaitdaybreak.
I was almost dozing, when I started suddenly to hear footsteps andvoices not far away. Could it be he? It was too dark to distinguishanything, and as yet their voices were not near enough to detect thewords. But they were coming nearer, and in a moment my suspense was atan end. It was not Ludar.
"That is well," said a voice which I knew to be Captain Merriman's."You say he knows to expect you?"
"Yes, sir; I sent him word that a week hence we should join him atMilford."
"Good. Then we must start to-morrow."
"The men have orders to be at Maidenhead to-morrow night."
"Well, now, Laker; you understand our plan. I am called hence suddenlyto-morrow, to London, by the Queen's order."
"Yes, sir."
"To-morrow night, an express comes to you that I am detained at theCourt, and ordering you, my second in command, to haste forward to joinour men in Wales. Sir William shall also receive a lette
r telling himthat my heart is broken that I cannot take charge of the young lady toIreland, but that you, an honest elderly dullard, will give her safeescort."
"I thank you, sir."
"That will pacify our young wolf-hound. He counts you a friend."
"Then, Laker, two days hence, at the--"
"Hush, I know the place. She shall be there, sir."
That was what I heard; and fool as I may have been, I had wits enough toguess what it all meant.
It was no time for marvelling by what strange chance I had been broughtthere to hear what I did. How to prevent the villainy was more to thepurpose. At daybreak the captain would depart, and a day after, unlesswe could hinder it, the dove would be in the hawk's clutches. Yet forfive hours that night had I to lie still and do nothing! If I showedmyself and was caught, all might be lost. Yet if I missed my chance ofwarning Ludar betimes of the peril impending, it might be too late. SoI sat there chafing, through the brief summer night, and at dawn was onthe watch.
True to his plan, an hour after daybreak, Captain Merriman mounted hishorse and sped briskly away from the Hall. Let him go! We should meetperchance again. But after that I watched the door for hours, and nevera sign of Ludar. Should I have to fight for the maiden single-handedafter all? At last when I was well-nigh desperate, he sallied out,cross-bow over shoulder, with solemn face, and walked towards the woods.Hiding myself well by the trees and shrubs, I made across to meet him.
His countenance lit up as he saw me; but otherwise, I might have partedfrom him but an hour ago.
"I expected you," said he. "Come along. This is no place for talking."
So I followed him in silence deep into the wood, where presently heflung down his bow and put his great hand on my shoulder.
"Humphrey," said he, and I could see that something big was on his mind."Am I the same Ludar you parted with a week ago?"
"No," said I, for I had never seen him thus before.
"Humphrey, my lad," said he, "I am undone. I have lived ill and thesaints have found me out. My arm hangs feeble at my side. I am turnedback from being a man into a boy. I am unworthy of you--and a shame tomyself--Humphrey," said he, clutching my arm till every vein in ittingled. "I am bewitched for my sins. Dost thou hear--I am--"
"In love," said I, with sinking heart. I had known what it would cometo the moment I parted with the maiden at the Ferry that day. I hadprayed against it; I had laughed myself out of the terror that was onme; I had called to mind his scornful jests at love. But all the whileI knew what was to come of it. And I knew that what he had won I hadlost.
So I finished his sentence for him; and in reply he took my hand andlooked at me with an almost humble gaze. "And you do not scorn me?"said he. "I love myself," said I. "Ah! yes," said he, "you told me so;and I scorned you for it. Now-- But what brings you here, Humphrey?"
The change in his voice was so sudden and resolute that it forbade me tosay another word about the matter our hearts were fullest of. Who knowsbut that, had I spoken then, he might have guessed the truth; and so ourlives might have broken asunder at that point? Now the chance was past.
But the chance was come to tell him my news, which I did, then andthere, and marvellously it moved him. Not that he spoke much, stillless raved. But his face grew thunderous and his eyes flashed; and thefew questions he asked me he put in a voice which half startled me byits smothered passion.
He took in the whole peril in a moment; and if once I had been foolenough to imagine I should direct the enterprise which was to thwart thevillainy, I was soon undeceived. "Humphrey," aid he, "are you free tostand by me in this?"
I told him that now I owned no master but him. His face cleared upjoyously for a moment at that. "Good; I claim you, then, not as amaster, but as a comrade. Be here to-night as the sun sets. Take thisbow and dirk; and farewell, my friend, till we meet again." And he leftme.
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