CHAPTER XIX
IN WHICH I COME TO GRIPS WITH MR. MALPAS
In the wan light, with which the room was now gradually filling, Ilooked at the man I had been so strangely moved to succour, and knewhim for my old antagonist, Guido Malpas. However, I said no more atthat time, but that, prisoner or no, I sufficiently loathed him; andso, crouching myself together upon a settle by the hearth (for I wasexceeding weary), I fell asleep.
It was bright day when I awoke, stiff and uneasy, and sat up on mybench. The room was empty, and 'twas some while ere I could collectthe passages incident to my being there, which, when they had skulkedback like tired truants to my brain, yet so monstrous did they seem asI could scarce believe them to be acted events, but rather fantasiesleft caught in the web of my waking; while as to that boast of thethieves' Captain, that I was detained prisoner in an open hostelry, Ilaughed aloud at the recollection.
I got off my plank bed, and going to the door called for the host tofetch me something to breakfast on, but he not immediately answering tomy demand, I thought fit to show him something of my quality, asbefitting an agent of the Queen's, and was for jangling down myaccoutrements on the table (which never fails of bringing your tapstersrunning to attend on a man) when, to my astonishment, I found sword andbelt both wanting, and my purse gone with the rest.
I stood horror-stricken at this catastrophe, for I perceived that whileI slept that malignant thief had shorn me, and so clapped my hand tothe bosom of my jerkin, where I had put up a letter I had received fromthe Lord Treasurer, or rather from his secretary, touching my lateappearance before the Council; but almost before I had my hand in, Iknew certainly that it had been stolen, as indeed it was. Now, here Isaw instantly was matter enough to ruin me either way; with them thatemployed me, whose secret I had so slovenly betrayed; with them I wasto spy upon, if (as I could nowise doubt) Malpas was of their companyand privy to their designs. Nevertheless, come what would, I mustreport my delinquency to Sir Edward Osborne, and abide by his censure,and for the rest hope that 'twas not yet too late to supersede me bysome other agent upon that voyage wherein I had promised myself nosmall success and glory.
Very heavy, then, but otherwise determined to do my plain duty in thisaffair, I went out by the door with a firm step, pondering all thecross accidents that had befallen me within so short a space, and verywishful that all were at an end.
"Not so fast, Mr. Agent," said that sneering voice of Malpas, whom Inear stumbled over as he sat on an upturned cask by the door. "I havebeen expecting you this two hours, but would not disturb you; for it isunprofitable discoursing with a man of your capacity to slumber. Well,do you walk in your sleep now, little Denis, and dream upon treasons?or have you your waking sense yet? I trow you seem reasonable glad tosee me, by which I suppose you to be in your right mind, and so bid yougood-morrow."
For answer I drew off my glove, and struck him a stinging blow acrossthe mouth with it; upon which he leapt up, and, being extraordinarilypowerful, flung me from him into the tavern, where I lay prone upon theflags. He did not shut the door, but stood in the doorway, of whichhis head brushed the lintel, and, folding his arms, proceeded quietly--
"That was unwisely done, Denis. This house is well respected, and notknown for brawling. Besides, I mean we should be friends; that is,should understand each other, as friends do--and traders. For in theway of trade all goes by mutual understanding and a common trust; as Ito sell certain commodities and you to remit certain moneys; orcontrariwise, you to part with such merchandise as I am willing to layup in store and to render a good account of, little Denis--as you shallconfess, at the proper season. 'Tis a settlement somewhat deferreddoubtless, having had its beginning, if I mistake not, in a streetbefore a barber's I used formerly; whereafter was added to the bill ashrewd item or two, whereby I come near to losing all credit: a gravechance for such a merchant-adventurer as I; but I am since restored. Iallow a handsome rebate, Denis, that you put into the reckoningyesterday. But the balance, upon the whole, going against me, itremains that I must pay."
"Had I known you last night," I said bitterly, "I would have cut off myright hand rather than second you in that pass."
He laughed long and low at that.
"Do you regret the issue so much?" said he, "Then it was your ignorancemore than your sword I have to thank, it seems. Well, 'tis no morethan the world's way, that generally sees good deeds done at random,but calculated villainies."
"As stealing that poor devil's wife," said I.
"Ay, or the lying-in-wait for Captain Spurrier upon commission," saidhe. "So all's one for that."
"You have read my packet, then?"
"Even as you were licensed to read his."
"And may do so yet," said I, galled beyond restraint by his gibing.
"I think you something misapprehend the matter," said Malpas, with amalignant affectation of patience, "or have forgot that I said you wereto be detained here. In what fashion you shall go forth, I have notyet decided, but be assured it will not be to do a mischief, Mr. Denis.There be other interests must be first consulted thereabout, and ordertaken."
I went over to the hearth, and sitting down upon the settle, strove toget my position clear in my mind. That I was to be kept here until therest of the conspirators should be assembled to try me, I understoodwell enough from Malpas his words; though of whom this council oftreason should consist, I could not guess, except that Spurrier himselfwere one, and probably Skene. To escape I judged was impossible everyway; partly because I was entered into the very home and chosenfortress of these plotters, of which the retiredness and neglectedcondition sufficiently secured it from the vigilance of the watch, andpartly because I was a prize too valuable to be let slip. I consideredthat, besides Malpas, there were certainly others in that house,pledged to my ward, and answerable for me to him. Of Malpas I knewenough, as well from that the poet had told me of the thieves' Captain,how he killed out of hand any that dared disobey him, as also from myown observance of his behaviour, to stand in little doubt of the upshotof my business, how it would go. Nevertheless, I do not remember tohave had any extraordinary fear; none, I know, comparable with thatpalsied terror I suffered when the mutineers came first upon the stairsin the night. Perhaps it was the knowledge that formerly when we werematched together I had come off happily, and left Malpas with so deep athrust as even now he went limping withal.
Immersed in such reflections, I did not note the passage of time, andwas surprised when a little neat fellow, dressed like an ordinarytavern-server, entered, bearing a tray with cheese on and a loaf and apot of good foaming ale.
"Is it poisoned?" said I.
"Poisoned? Sir--in this house!" cried he, starting back from thetable. "Your worship must be ignorant whither you have come--to the_Fair Haven_ of Wapping, where all is sound provend and of the bestcome to port."
"Is it so, indeed, Master Jocelin?" I returned, for I had immediatelyrecognized, in this meek servitor, my old acquaintance of the hostelryover against Baynards Castle. "And how goes it with that fat lump ofdough you were to set the yeast of your wit to work in?"
But without the flicker of an eyelid, he answered me: "Jocelin is myname, sir; but as to your dough and your yeast, I understand nothing ofyour meaning."
I could not withhold my laughter at his recovered innocence any betterthan I did before at the manifest lapse of it; and laughing still, Iwatched him put down my breakfast and depart. I fell to with a willafter that, and having a wholesome fondness for food, had soon made anend of that meal, which, as Master Jocelin had said, was as good asneeds be. The whiles I was eating, my mind wandered oddly away to oldPeter Sprot, at home, whose sober admonition to me of the dietary Ishould follow in London, I had until now (I fear) given no thought to,but judged that I must even yet awhile delay the exact observance of it.
Now it chanced that, looking up when I had about done, I saw Malpasregarding me very earnestly, and with a manner as though he would haveasked me so
mething, but apart from the tenour of our late conversation.Marvelling what this should be, I kept silence: which 'twas not longere he broke, by saying--
"If you confess yourself vanquished and overborne in this business,Master Cleeve, as I suppose you can scarce otherwise, I upon my part amwilling enough to allow that you came off victorious otherwhiles; sothat thus far we may cry quits. If there be no love lost between us,there need be no petty rancours nor jealousies, and I am honest enoughto say that, now I have lost her, I wish you well of your suit toMistress Avenon."
"Where is she now?" cried I, starting up.
"Nay, if you know not," said Malpas, "how should I?"
I sat down quite out of heart, for I saw, whether he had news or no, hewas still for fencing. Malpas came nearer, and bending low over thetable where I sat, laid his two hands upon it, and said--
"You cannot be ignorant that this affair is like to end badly for you,Mr. Denis, and I am partly glad of it, but partly sorry too. Now, Ipray you to be open with me; for if I choose I may help you, seeing Ihave some direction in this place, and of the occasions it is used for.Judging from such things as you have seen doing, upon whose part do yousuppose Mr. Skene to stand in these negotiations with Spain? Oh, keepyour admiration!" said he, with a sudden sneer. "The reading of yourpacket makes away all scruples to be longer secret. That there be suchnegotiations you know as well as I; though of how far they stretch, orwho be deep in, I say nothing. All I require at your hands, is thatyou say frankly whether Skene is on the Queen's part, or upon ours?"
"You cannot be ignorant that this affair is like to endbadly for you, Mr. Denis." Chapter XIX]
"You acknowledge your part to be contrary to Her Majesty's, then?"
"I said so. Now as you answer me, I swear I will deal with you. Iwill fling the door wide and let you go forth freely to MistressIdonia, whose present hiding-place I know; or else I will deliver youover to those who shall choke your discretion in your fool's throat."
"Your treason hath not commenced so well," said I, leaning back fromthe table, "that hath begun in distrust of each other."
"Be not over long about it," said Malpas darkly; "I am not used torepeat my offers, that, moreover, you see are abundantly generous."
"So generous," I replied, "that I doubt their worth."
"They be surely worth more," said my captor, upon whose brow the blueveins stood out, so sharp a curb did he put upon his mood; "they be ofmore worth to you, a thousandfold, than the favour or disfavour of thatdamned, cogging, glib-spoken traitor, your uncle."
He had let it slip at last! My uncle Botolph and Skene were one. Andhere, beyond belief, I held 'twixt my naked finger and thumb thesteelyard by which my uncle's fate should be weighed, who had crossedme at every turn. A word of mine, and he that had first ruined myfather's life, and after had robbed him of his fortune, might becontemptuously blotted out, as a man blots out some gross error in aletter he has writ; for that was how Malpas would serve him, could Ibring myself to say he stood for the Queen. A little word spoken, andhe was condemned, but I was free ... I and Idonia!
Indeed, it was clear justice, both to myself and to my uncle. For Iwas not to name the man a traitor to his Sovereign; rather, to speakwell of him, as I expected a man should do of me. It was (now I wascome to think on't) mere decency that I should not be dumb in myuncle's praise whom I had never had any, or at the least overt, causeto mistrust. Put the case the other way; that I thought my uncle'sconduct treasonable. Should I denounce him to the Lord Treasurer andthe Council? I knew I should not. Should I then denounce him toMalpas for the contrary cause, and upon the slight grounds I had, as ofthe confession he made to me when the Jesuit was found in hiding in hishouse? No, certainly.
Why, all that was required of me was that I should confess I thought myuncle honest, as likely enough he was. What should follow upon so faira declaration imported me nothing. I was concerned with no grudges nordisputes of these men, to bethink me how a plain answer should workwith them. Nay, I stood for the Queen's Majesty, upon oath to serveher, and would so stand, God willing, come what might; as Malpas waswell assured, who yet had passed his word I was within an hand'sbreadth of going free; it only stayed upon my word. Then why should Inot deal with another so, allowing the honour due to a likesteadfastness with my own? My uncle would doubtless be let go freetoo; or perhaps he was not even so much as come into jeopardy. I hadno suspicion but that he was still at large.... Indeed it was veryprobable.
All this while I sat still, musing upon that I should say, and Malpasstood above me, expecting it. More than once I tried to speak, andHeaven forgive me as I believe, had I spoken then, I should have sentmy uncle to his death; but somehow the words would not come. Thesophistry was too palpable; the truth too black a lie. I met mycaptor's eyes.
"If I tell you where my uncle is at this moment concealed," said I,"will you let me go free?"
Snatching at the apparent advantage: "I add it to the conditions ofyour safety that you do so," he replied swiftly.
"Then you have lost your game," said I, and getting up, I kicked thechair aside and watched his baffled face of rage. "For if you know notthat, neither do you know where Idonia is, as you made pretence to do."
"You cursed trickster!" he swore, his voice shaking with anuncontrolled passion; "petty cheat and viper! So, that is it to be!Ay, white face, laugh that you have run me these lengths; I should haveknown you. 'Sdeath, ye be true Cleeves, uncle and nephew, unprofitableknaves both! Well, I have done my part, but there's more to follow yetand soon enough, uncle and nephew! Ah! and who shall be Idonia'sguardian then, when you lie stark? ... Never a word of truth he gaveme, that old fox, but kept me still dangling. 'He could not promise meher hand, forsooth, but yet he liked me. She would come to like metoo, in time, no doubt; but I must have patience.' Patience--had hesuch patience to wait when her mother lived, or did he fob off MilesAvenon her father upon that fool's adventure wherein he was presentlyslain, as Uriah was slain, Bathsheba's man? Ho! a prosperous sleeklover, I warrant you, and a laugher too, until his Margaret died.... Iknew that Miles, and though I was but a child when he went away, Iremember the pride he had in his pretty frail wife and his joy ofIdonia, for she was his proper child, though Cleeve named himself herguardian, for her mother's sake.
"It was that made him terrible, that death of Margaret, and few mendared go near him. But the fit passed. There have been Margarets enowsince, in good sooth! though he still held by the child. Perdition!but there needs money to that game, a store, and he was glad of ourhelp at first, and for many a long day after. It was to be fairsharing in all, and whiles I think he parted to the hair. Even to yourcoming I trusted him, and spied upon you as he bade me, being contentto take the brunt, while he lay close. 'Twas then I claimed the maidas a right, but he shook his grey sleek head and paltered. _Patience_!that was the word, then. But it's another word now, Master Denis, foryou and for him. Ay, and another word for Idonia Avenon...."
I was amazed hearing him talk so wild, whom I had thought tutored to aperfect secrecy; but his blood was up at my catching him in thatbaseness of lying, besides that he was disappointed of the hope I hadextended and withdrawn, of setting him upon my uncle, whose treacheryin their plot he so evidently feared. Why he did not spring upon methere and then with his knife I did not understand, though it waslikely he reserved me a morsel to fling amongst his foul co-partners inthis business, and a grateful sacrifice.
"Enough of this chat," said I, at length, "for I well perceive yourpurpose both toward me and my uncle. But I warn you for the last timeI shall that 'tis safest you suffer me, Her Majesty's servant, to gohence free."
"It is refused," he replied curtly, and turning upon his heel, strodeout of the room and into the street.
Seeing him gone thus, without mounting any especial guard upon me, Ibethought me to examine the defences with my own eyes, and thereforefollowed him leisurely to the door. A stout sea-faring man was therealready, hi
s arms crossed, blocking it. I saw the gleam of a cutlassend beneath his rough jacket.
"Be thou the host of this tavern?" he inquired, with a grin.
Being unconcerned in his needs, I made no answer, and returned to myroom. The windows, which were all unglazed, were strongly barred, andI at once saw useless to be attempted. Passing then to the hind partof the house I noted a little postern door that seemed to give onto asort of jetty or wharf, the inn standing upon the riverside as I havealready said; but when I approached it, there was the neat tapster thathad brought my meal whistling some catch of a sea song, and polishingof a great arquebus.
"Ho! come not too nearly, master," he sang out, when he saw me, "forthese pieces be tickle things, a murrain of 'em! And I notcomprehending the least of the machine, it may chance shoot offunawares."
Perceiving that he had his finger pressed to the snaphance, and thebarrel turned my way, I judged it expedient to leave Mr. Jocelin to hispolishing and retire. Every avenue then was guarded, as I had lookedit should be, and so, without any particular design, I walked slowly upthe narrow, rotten stair into the chambers aloft. I went into three orfour, all vacant and ungarnished by any piece of furniture or hanging,which meant sorry enough entertainment in a place purporting to be aninn, thought I, though proper enough to a prison.
But scarce had I gone forth into the gallery again, when I thought Iheard a sound that proceeded from a chamber I had not till thenobserved, in a retired and somewhat darksome corner beyond the stairs.I held my breath to listen, and the little rustling noise beginningagain after a space, I went directly to the door and opened it.
Mistress Avenon sat within, in a nook by the window, tearing a papershe had in her hands.
"Idonia!" I cried, and running forward had her in my arms and her hotface close against mine. "My bird," said I--for so she seemed as adainty bird caught in an iron trap--"my bird, who hath brought you intothis infamous place?"
She leant back a little from my shoulder, yet without loosing me, andlooked up into my eyes with such a deal of honest, sweet pleasure tosee me there, that I had to pretermit my anxiety some while, and indeedhad near lost it by the time I renewed my question.
"Why infamous?" inquired Idonia in her turn, "save that I knew not youwere here too. But now it is certainly not infamous, though somethinglacking of luxuries, and a thought slack in the attendance they bestowupon guests!"
"You must not misconstrue my insistence," I said, "and you will not,when you shall have heard all I have to tell you. But for the first,where is Mr. Skene?"
"He brought me here early last night," said she, but with a little ofreproach in her voice that I knew meant I wasted good time idly.
"And whither is he gone?"
"Do you desire he should be present, then?" asked Idonia, veryinnocently.
"No, but I would warn him if I could," I replied gravely, and so toldher everything as it had befallen me.
"Always that Malpas!" whispered the maid, and trembled so I had toclasp her tight to me.
"He does not know you are here, that is clear," I said, as indeed itwas manifest to both of us.
"My guardian hath used this place often ere this," said Idonia, "and Isuppose none thought to prate of what happened ordinarily."
"Perhaps he has left you to seek out Malpas," I conjectured, and atthis she nodded.
"They have had some design in hand together this great while, of whichI know nothing."
I did not tell her that I knew it well enough, and was evencommissioned to prevent it, but said--
"Wherever he hath gone, Malpas hath certainly gone to seek him; but hemust not be found."
"You owe him small thanks," whispered Idonia, her head low down, "andif this intends a danger to you..."
I did not suffer her to finish, but asked whether she were well enoughacquainted with the house to know of any means of egress from it,besides the doors that were so straitly watched. She thought a greatwhile before she replied how, once, it might be eight years since, shebeing lodged there, she had gone upon some occasion into the cellars,and remembered to have noted that the window which lighted it was asort of grate within the river wall and was even then decayed andcorrupted by the salt water, so that by this time it should, shethought, be easily broken through.
"The tide is out," said I, "so that if I may but get through, there isthe dry bank above the pirates' gallows to go by; and after, the restshould be plain enough." Which gallows I spoke of (now all rotten) yetstood in the ooze to be flooded at high tide, it having been formerlyused against such pirates and river thieves as were caught and therehanged, until, the tide rising, they were drowned.
In reply to my further questionings, she said that Skene was to besought amidst the streets about the Tower Royal, which was where I hadgone that day I lost my way in the fog, when Idonia found me, and,indeed, was no great distance from Chequer Lane.
"When you shall have found him, or however it fall out, you will returnto me, dear heart?" said Idonia, who was now weeping so bitterly that Icould scarce keep hold of my resolution to be gone. But I did so atlength, and, going downstairs to the room I had left, found it to mydelight still free. Nigh choked with the beating of my heart, I soondiscovered the stone steps that led down to the cellars, which were anarrow passage-room lit with a swinging lantern, and having three orfour locked doors of other vaults (used, I supposed, for storage ofwines and such-like) to the right and left of it. But in theriver-wall, when I looked, I could perceive no grid nor aperture ofsuch sort as Idonia had spoken, and for some moments remained as onelost, for mere disappointment. However, recovering myself a little, Ifelt along the whole, length of the wall, high and low, until to myinfinite pleasure my hand struck upon a new oaken door, bolted with agreat bolt that I slid back without the least noise. For the dooritself, I clearly perceived, it had been found necessary to put it inplace of the old, decayed grid, and 'twas sure as provident a repairingas any it hath been my fortune to light on!
Well, I think it stands not upon me to relate the several stages of myprison-breaking, nor of my lurking along the river-bank under the veryeyes of my warders into safety; though I confess that more than once myback burnt hot with the thought of the little peering tapster and ofthat great arquebus he so diligently polished.
Idonia: A Romance of Old London Page 19