X
PRISONER OF WAR
"I rejoice," she answered, in a voice unsteady with happiness--suchmight have been the voice of Semele at the coming of her god--"Irejoice that Loyalty House boasts a roof to shelter his Majesty. ForI was minded to blow the place to pieces rather than yield it to thisgentleman who would so speciously persuade me to surrender."
As she spoke she glanced disdainfully in the direction of EvanderCloud, who now for the first time since the irruption of theCavaliers became in any sense an object of public interest. None ofthe new-comers had paid any heed to the sombre-habited prisoner;Halfman had forgotten his captive in his jealous study of the men whohad raised the siege; Thoroughgood, with the Puritan's sword restingidly on his left arm, was as absorbed in the converse of Sir Rufusand his comrades as were his subordinates Garlinge and Clupp, who,though they gripped their prisoner tightly, were as indifferent tohis existence as if he had been the turbaned dummy of a quintain.But now on the instant every glance was turned on Evander, and SirRufus, eying him with much disfavor, asked of Brilliana, "Who is yourprisoner?"
Evander made a step forward unrestrained by his guards, and answeredfor himself composedly.
"I am Captain Cloud, of the parliamentary army, snared under a flagof truce."
He was so well restrained in his speech and carriage, so quiet acontrast to the heated gentlemen who glared at him, that to anuninformed observer he might very well have seemed the judge ratherthan the one on trial. Rufus snapped at him like an angry dog.
"Well, you tub-thumper, you see that the gentlemen of England aremore than a match for pestilent pennyweight rebels."
Evander surveyed his truculent opponent with a tranquil contemptwhich had its effect in increasing the irritation of the Cavalier.
"You play the valiant braggart to a captive," he commented, quietly.Then he turned to Brilliana as one who had no further desire fortreaty with a fellow of this kind.
"Let me remind you, lady, that I came here under a flag of truce."
Brilliana had forgotten Evander in the exhilaration of her relief.But now that he had come into her mind again, so with his image hadflooded in again all the prejudices he provoked, the scorn, thehatred.
"That plea cannot release you," she answered, hotly. "Your time wasup, your sword was drawn; I am very sure you would have joined yourmen."
Evander, whose arms were now released from bondage by Garlinge andClupp, made a gesture of absolute acquiescence.
"I am very sure I should have joined my men," he answered, calmly.Brilliana rounded on him triumphant.
"Then you are a prisoner of war, fairly taken. Let me have no morewords."
As indifferent to her words as to the angry carriage of theCavaliers, Evander stepped tranquilly back to his place between hiswarders.
"I have no more words to waste," he said, with a scorn in his voicethat stung Brilliana's cheeks to crimson. She turned hurriedly to thelittle knot of Cavaliers, who chafed at having to witness what theyheld to be the presumption of a Puritan in daring to bandy words witha lady of quality.
"Gallants," she said, "this merry meeting calls for its baptism ofwine." As she spoke she struck upon the bell, shrewdly confident thather wishes would be met. "Wine," she added, "the more precious thatit is wellnigh the last in our cellars."
As the Cavaliers came about her applauding with word and look, thedoors of the banqueting-room parted and Mrs. Satchell entered, fullof pomp and apple-red with pleasure, followed by Shard bearing a trayof glasses, and by pretty, dimpling Tiffany bearing a goodly flagonof wine and observing with demure approbation the covey of King'sgentlemen.
Mistress Satchell swam like a gall on towards the Cavaliers, hergreat, red, spoon-shaped face damp with satisfaction. Playing atheroine behind bombarded walls was all very well, but greeting oftimely gentry who had set heroines free was infinitely better.
"Heaven bless you, merry gentlemen," she chirruped. "Here is a cup ofcomfort for you."
"Heaven bless you, merry matron," Bardon answered, as soberly as hecould, for indeed the sight of Mistress Satchell in her Sunday bestand in her most coming-on humor was not of a nature to strengthensobriety. Lord Fawley gasped as the virago swaggered towards hiscompanions, and young Ingrow popped his handkerchief into his mouthand bit at it while he stared with eyes of nursery wonder at thedame. Radlett winked as if dazzled by the whimsical apparition, andSir Rufus, familiar with Mrs. Satchell and her vagaries, was the onlymember of his party who kept his countenance unchanged on herentrance.
Brilliana was sympathetically swift to explain her astonishinghandwoman.
"Gentles," she said, "this is Mistress Satchell, who queens it intimes of peace over my kitchen, but who has proved herself my veryvaliant adjutant during the siege."
The dame bridled with pride.
"I can handle a pike, my lords, I promise ye," she asserted; andthen, turning to Halfman for confirmation, "Can I not, MasterHalfman?"
Halfman slapped his thigh approvingly and answered to the Cavalierwith grave voice and smiling eyes.
"Never was pike so handled before, I promise ye."
The tone of his voice mimicked Mrs. Satchell's manner even as thewords of it aped her matter, but the dame was too pleased withherself and the world to heed what it was that set the gentlemenlaughing.
"So, so," Radlett hummed approval. "Mrs. Satchell, will you ride withme to the King?"
Mrs. Satchell dipped him a swimming reverence, but she shook her headdecisively.
"Your honor means well, but I cannot leave my lady. The Roundheadsmight come again."
The Lord Fawley had by this seen his glass filled by Tiffany and wasstaring boldly into her pretty face, much to the exasperation ofhonest Thoroughgood, chafing in the background.
"Do you handle a pike, prettikins?" Fawley asked. Prettikins droppedhim a courtesy and shook her curls.
"No, my lord," she whispered, "I am not very soldierly."
It was now Ingrow's turn to have his glass filled and to stareadmiration at the pretty serving-woman.
"If you have a mind to enlist," he said, temptingly, "you shall beensign in my troop and we'll carry your kirtle for a flag."
Whether Mrs. Satchell considered that Tiffany was like to beembarrassed by the attentions of the gentry, or whether sheconsidered that those attentions diverted too much notice fromherself as the heroine of the servants' hall, she certainly came tothe rescue, edging her bulk between the girl and Ingrow.
"She is too green for your grace," she insisted. "You need a finewoman like me for your flag-bearer."
Even Ingrow's readiness found him something at a loss for an answer.He looked as if he feared lest dame Satchell might take him in anembrace. Brilliana, now that all the glasses were charged, decidedthat the company had tasted enough of Mrs. Satchell's humors.
"I thank you, Mistress Satchell," she said, quietly, and Mrs.Satchell, rightly reading in the tones of her mistress's voicepermission to retire, withdrew in good order, beaming and bobbing toall the gentlemen and followed by Shard and Tiffany, who, with lidsdemurely lowered, avoided recognition of the admiring glances ofFawley and Ingrow.
Brilliana turned to her company and lifted her glass.
"Drink, gentles," she summoned. "Drink 'The King!'"
All the Cavaliers shouted the loyal toast so that the words "TheKing!" seemed to ring in every nook of the great hall; then everyCavalier drained his glass.
"Ah," sighed Lord Fawley, as he set down his empty vessel, "I coulddrink the King's health forever."
"I swear it would sweeten sour ale," Bardon declared.
Young Ingrow took him up. "When it floats on such noble tipple I am agod-swilling nectar." Halfman slapped his chest.
"Come, lads!" he cried; "when Cavaliers drink the King's health theyshould sing the King's song," and in another moment his mellow voicewas setting his friends a sturdy example. "Gallants of England," hewarbled:
"Gallants of England, shall not the King land Safely in
town to knock Parliament down? Shall we not ever strive to endeavor Glory to win for our King and our crown? Shall not the Roundhead soon be confounded? Sa, sa, sa, sa, boys, ha, ha, ha, ha, boys, Then we'll return home in triumph and joy. Then we'll be merry, drink sack and sherry, And we will sing, boys, God save the King, boys, Cast up our hats, and sing Vive le Roy."
The Lady of Loyalty House: A Novel Page 11