[Illustration: Cover: A Brother to Dragons] A BROTHER TO DRAGONS AND _OTHER OLD-TIME TALES_ BY AMÉLIE RIVES NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1888 Copyright, 1888, by HARPER & BROTHERS. _All rights reserved. _ =Dedicated= WITH GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE TO THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH MY FIRST EDITOR PREFACE. OF the tales published in this volume, "A Brother to Dragons" appearedin the _Atlantic Monthly_ for March, 1886; "The Farrier Lass o' PipingPebworth" in _Lippincott's Magazine_ for July, 1887; and "Nurse Crumpettells the Story" in _Harper's Magazine_ for September, 1887. AMÉLIE RIVES. CONTENTS. PAGE A BROTHER TO DRAGONS 1 THE FARRIER LASS O' PIPING PEBWORTH 82 NURSE CRUMPET TELLS THE STORY 168 A BROTHER TO DRAGONS. I. IN the year of grace, 1586, on the last day of the month of May, to allwho may chance to read this narrative, these: I will first be at the pains of stating that had it not been for MarianI had never indited these or any other papers, true or false. Secondly, that the facts herein set down be true facts; none the less true thatthey are strange. I will furthermore explain that Marian is theChristian name of my lawful wife, and that our surname is Butter. My wife had nursed the Lady Margaret from the moment of her birth; andhere I must make another digression. The Lady Margaret was the twinsister of the then Lord of Amhurste, Lord Robert, and my lady and hislordship had quarrelled--Marian saith, with a great cause, but I cannotherein forbear also expressing my opinion, which is to the effect thatfor that quarrel there was neither cause, justice, nor reason. Therefore, before those who may chance to read these words, I will laybare the facts pertaining to the said quarrel. It concerned the family ghost, which ghost was said to haunt a certainblue chamber in the east wing of the castle. Now I myself had nevergainsaid these reports; for although I do not believe in ghosts, I havea certain respect for them, as they have never offered me any affront, either by appearing to me or otherwise maltreating me. But Marian, wholike many of her sex seemed to consort naturally with banshees, bogies, apparitions, and the like, declared to me that at several different andequally inconvenient times this ghost had presented itself to her, startling her on two occasions to such an extent that she once let fallthe contents of the broth-bowl on Herne the blood-hound, thereby causingthat beast to maliciously devour two breadths of her new black taffetaSunday gown; again, a hot iron wherewith she was pressing out the seamsof Lady Margaret's night-gown. On the second occasion, she fled alongthe kitchen hall, shrieking piteously, and preceded by Doll, the kitchenwench, the latter having in her seeming a certain ghostly appearance, asshe was clad only in her shift, which the draughts in the hall inflatedto a great size. The poor maid fled affrighted into her room and lockedthe door behind her; yet when I did essay to assuage the terror ofMistress Butter, identifying Doll and the blue-room ghost as one and thesame, she thanked me not, but belabored me in her frenzy with the yetwarm iron, which she had instinctively snatched up in her flight;demanding of me at the same time if I had ever seen Doll's nose spoutfire, and her eyes spit in her head like hot coals. I being of anecessity compelled to reply "No, " Marian further told me that it wasthus that the ghost had comported itself; that, moreover, it was cladall in a livid blue flame from top to toe, and that it had a banner o'red sarcenet that streamed out behind like forked lightning. She thensaid that this malevolent spirit had struck her with its blazing hand, and that, did I not believe her, I could see the burn on her wrist. Uponmy suggesting that this wound might have been inflicted by the iron inits fall, she did use me in so unwifely a manner that I sought my bed inmuch wrath and vexation of spirit. Nay, I do fear me that I cursed theday I was wed, the day on which my wife was born, wishing all women tothe d--l; and that, moreover, out loud, which put me to much shameafterwards for some days; although, be it said to my still greatershame, it was full a fortnight e'er I confessed my repentance unto thewife whom I had so abused. But meseems I have in this digression transgressed in the matter o'length; therefore, to return to the bare facts. It was on the subject of this ghost that my lord and the Lady Margarethad disagreed. My lord, being a flighty lad, although a marvellous finescholar and well-disposed, did agree with my wife in the matter of theghost; while my lady was of a like mind with myself. It doth seem but yesterday that she came to me as I was training thewoodbine o'er the arbor that led to her little garden, and put her whitehand on my shoulder. (My lady was never one for wearing gloves, yet thesun seemed no more to think o' scorching her fair hands than the leavesof a day-lily. ) She comes to me and lays her hand on my shoulder, andher long eyes they laugh at me out of the shadow of her hat; but hermouth is grave as though I were a corse. Quoth she: "Butter, dost thou believe in this ghost?" "Nay, my lady, " answered I, hoping to shift her to better soil; "I ne'ermeddle with ghosts or goblins. Why, an there be such things, should theywish me harm? O' my word, my brain is no more troubled with ghosts, black or white, than our gracious Queen's"--here I doffed my cap--"iswith snails and slugs;" and here I plucked a slug from a vine-leaf andset my heel on't. "Nay, nay!" quoth she, a-shutting of her white eyelids so tight that allthe long black hairs on them stood straight out, like the fringe onMarian's Sunday mantle in a high wind. "Butter! thou nasty man!" "Why--for how dost thou mean, my lady?" quoth I. "Why, for mashing that poor beast to a pap. " And then a-holding of herhand level below her eyes, so that she might not discern the ground, "Is he dead?" quoth she. "Dead?" asked I, for I was somewhat puzzled in my mind. "Ay, the slug; is he dead?" "That he is, verily, " said I; for in truth he was naught but a jelly, and therewith I drew a pebble over him with my foot, that the sight o'his misfortune should not disturb her tender heart. "How if I were to crush you 'neath my heel, Master Butter?" quoth she atlast, having peered about for the sight she dreaded, and, not seeing it, returning to her discourse. "How wouldst thou like that, excellentMaster Butter?" But somehow, as I looked at her foot, my mouth, for allI could do, went into a smile. For though she was as fine a maiden asany in all Warwickshire, her foot, methinks, was of so dainty a make'twould scarce have dealt death to a rose. "But truly, my lady, " continued I, seeing that she was making up a faceat me, "thou knowest I've naught in common with ghosts. " "Ay, " quoth she. "And thou knowest the like of me. But"--and here stopsshe, with the slyest tip of her frowzed curls towards the house--"thouknowest also this, Butter, that his lordship, my brother, thinks as dothMarian, thy wife, and that therein we four cannot agree. " So I look at my hoe-handle, and say I, "My lady, it is known to me. " "Well, now, Butter, " she goes on, "thou most wise, most excellent, mostcunning, most delectable of Butters, I have concocted a plan. I' fecks, Butter" (for my lady, like her Majesty the Queen, was somewhat given toswearing, though more modest oaths, as should become a subject)--"I'fecks, Butter, " saith she, "'tis a most lustick plot. But I would notthy mome heard us;" and with that she makes me send away Joe, theunder-gardener. He being gone, she whispers in my ear how she hathplotted to fright his lordship and Marian into very convulsions offurther conviction, by appearing to them at the door o' the blue room inher night-gown, with a taper in her hand and her face chalked. What shedesired o' me was, that I should come to the blue room with her, andthere remain while she played off this pretty fantasy on my lord andMarian. To be truthful in these my last days o' earth, I liked not my profferedoffice o'er-well. Howbeit, that night did I do the bidding o' my youngmistress, and--loath am I to speak of it, even at this late day--'twasthe cause of my young master's leaving his home and going to bide inforeign countries. Ah, bitter tears did his sister weep, and with mine own eyes I saw her, on the day he set forth, cling to his neck, and when he shook herthence, hang about his loins, and when at last he pushed her to theground, she laid her hands about his feet and wept; and between everysob it was, "Go not, brother, for my fault! Go not, brother, for myfault!" or else, "Robin, Robin, dost not love me enough to forgive me solittle?" and then, "If thou didst but love me a little, thou couldstforgive me much. " But he stepped free of her hands and went his ways, and my lady lay with her head where his feet had been, and was still. Then Marian, who was very wroth with me for my part in the matter, didup with her nursling in her own proper strong arms (for she was aye astrong lass, that being one o' the chief reasons for which I had soughther in marriage--having had, as should all men, an eye to my posterity. It was a great cross to me, as may be thought, to find that all myforethought had been in vain, and that while Turnip, the farrier, hadeight as fine lads as one would care to father, of a puny wench that myMarian could have slipped in her pocket, Mistress Butter presented mewith no children, weakly or healthy). But, as I have said, Marian, inher own arms, did carry my lady up-stairs to her chamber, and laid heron the day-bed. And by-and-by she opes her eyes (for Marian agreed that I sate on thethreshold), and says she, putting out her hand half-fearful-like, "Is'tthou, brother?" "Nay, honey, " saith Marian; "it is I, thy Marian, thy nurse. " Then said my lady, "Ay, nurse; but my brother, he is below--is't notso?" But when Marian shook her head, my lady sate up on the day-bed andcaught hold of her short curls, and cried out, "I have banished him! Ihave made him an outlaw! I have banished him!" And for days she lay likeone whose soul was sped. Well, the young lord came not back, nor would he write; so we knew notwhether he were alive or dead. Yet were Marian and myself notunhopeful, for full oft did the heady boy find some such cause ofdisagreement with his sister to abide apart from her. But when we sawthat in truth he came not back, and that week sped after week, and monthdid follow month, and still no tidings, we had perforce to acknowledgethat the young lord was indeed gone to return no more. The Lady Margaret, in her loneliness, grew into many strange ways. Shedid outride any man in the county, and she had a blue-roan by the nameof Robin Hood; which same, methinks, no man in or out o' th' countywould 'a' cared to bestride. She would walk over to Pebworth ('pipingPebworth, ' as Master Shakespeare hath dubbed it) and back again, adistance o' some six miles; and afterwards set forth for a gallop onRobin Hood, and be no more a-weary, come eventide, than myself from atrip 'round the gardens. She swam like a sea-maid, she had fenced evenbetter than her brother, and methinks she was the bonniest shot with along-bow of any woman in all England. She was but fifteen when my lordleft Amhurste for aye, and in the years since she had grown mightily, and was waxed as strong as Marian, and full a head taller. But she hadlong, curved flanks that saved her from buxomness; and her head was sethigh and light on her shoulders, like a bird that floats on a wave, ando'er it ran her bright curls, the one o'er the other, like littlewavelets. Her eyes were as gray as a sword, and as keen, and she hadbroad lids as white as satin-flowers, and there was a fine black ringaround them, made by her long lashes. My lady was courted by many a fine lord, and more than three youngstershave I seen weep because of her coldness towards them; speeding themaway out o' the sight o' mankind (as they thought), and castingthemselves along the lush grass in my lady's garden, there to bleat andbleat, like moon-calves for the moon. For one lad did my heart bleed, verily. 'Twas for the young Lord ofMallow--but a lad with buttercup curls and speedwell eyes, and a smileto win the love o' any maid in her reason (though, to be sure, my ladywas in her reason). He comes to me and gets between my knees, like anylittle eanling that might 'a' been mine own, and quoth he: "Butter, Butter, she loves thee! Wilt thou not speak to her, and tellher that she shall be the richest lady in all England, and maid of honorto the Queen, and have more jewels than the Queen herself? Oh, Butter!"cried he. Then said I, a-stroking of the yellow gossamer that bestrewed hisshoulders, as he knelt, head bowed, between my knees, "Nay, my lord, 'tis not so that thou shalt win the Lady Margaret. She careth no morefor jewels than she doth for the beads in a rainbow; nor doth she carefor riches. And methinks a maid who would marry just to be maid of honorto a queen would not be an honorable maid either to herself or to hersovereign;" for so indeed I thought. Then saith he, "Butter, dost thou believe in love-philters?" And I asked his meaning, for verily I was ignorant of 't, albeit I wasnot ignorant in all matters. And he explained to me that it was a drinkor potion to cause love. Then I answered, and said, "Calamint doth make a good brew, likewisesage, and some flax is soothing, but methinks none o' these would causelove. " On this he wept again, but said that I was a good old man, and that onhis return to Mallow he would send me a gift; and so he did--a pair o'silk hose, such as my lady and the Queen do wear; but being mindful ofmy station, I laid them aside for the sake o' th' poor lad, andyesterday Marian did bring them to me, with her ten fingers through asmany moth-holes. Whereupon I was minded o' th' text concerning that welay not up treasures where moth and rust do corrupt, and at my behestMarian read me the whole of that chapter. But to return to bare facts. It was on a certain night in March that there occurred the conversationwhich was the cause of this narrative. There had been news of the returnof one Lord Denbeigh to Warwickshire--by report as wild a cavalier asever fought, and a godless body to boot. Marian, who, as I have said, had always a certain knack for ghost stories and the like, froze me withher accounts o' this wild lord's doings. Quoth she: "Fire-brace is a suiting name for him, inasmuch as 'tis a family name, and he a fire-brand to peace wheresome'er he shall go. " "Peace--peace thyself!" quoth I, hearing my lady's foot along the hall. And, o' my word, Marian had but just ceased, and given her attention tothe fire, when in clatters my lady, with her riding-whip stuck in herglove, and her blood-hound Hearn in a leash. She was much wrought, either with riding or rage, for there was a quick red in her cheek, andshe had set her red lips until they were white. Then took she the houndbetween her knees, and plucked off her gloves. Here I did find it myduty to speak. "My lady, " cried I, "'tis not in your mind to baste the dog?" "Ay, that it is, " quoth she, and her lips went tighter, and she jerkedat her glove. Then said I, "How if he leap at thy throat?" And she answered, "Nay, heknows better;" and with that she gripped his collar, and let swing herwhip. Then did I bid Marian that she leave the room. As for me, it wasmy duty to stay, though, as I have given an oath to tell but the truthin this narrative, I must confess that I was in a sweat from head tofoot with fear. But the great hound crouched as though he knew he got but what hedeserved, and when my lady had given him ten or twenty lashes she flungwide the door, and said she, "Get thee gone, coward! Go fare as faresthe poor beggar thou sought'st to bite!" and the hound slunk out. Thenturned my mistress to me, and--"Butter, " saith she, "yon beast sought tobite an old beggar as we came through the park, so I whipped him. Butfor naught save cruelty or disobedience will I ever whip a dog; so, Butter, the next time that thou seest me about to lash one, keep thycounsel. " (This was the harshest that my lady e'er spoke, either to meor to Marian. ) Then went she to the door and called Marian. "Come, nurse, " quoth she, "I am a-weary. Fling me some skins on thesettle, and I will lie down, and thou shalt card out my locks with thyfingers. " So we heaped the settle with the skins o' white bears, andthereon my lady cast herself, like a flower blown down upon a snow-bank;and by-and-by, what with the warmth and Marian's strokings, she fellinto a deep sleep. But we two sate and gazed on her. She was all clad in a tight riding-dress of green velour cloth, and herwhite face seemed to come from the close collar like a white lily fromits sheath. She was e'er flower-like, asleep or waking, as I have said, and her pretty head was sleek and yellow, like a butterfly's wing. Shewas so sound that it appeared to me and Marian as though one longerbreath might transform the mimicry into the actual thing--death. Butby-and-by awe fell from us, as it doth ever fall, even in the presenceof that which hath awed us, and my wife and I did return to ourdiscourse concerning my Lord Denbeigh. Quoth I to Marian, "But, wife, may not malice invent these tales?" "Nay, nay, " said she, shaking her head; "as bloody a rogue as everlived--as bloody a rogue as ever lived. They do say as how he'll set awhole tavern in a broil ere he be entered in for three minutes. " "But, " quoth I, "may he not be provoked?" "Nay, I tell thee, " said she; "but he'll jump at a body's head, andcleave 't open ere a body can say 'Jesus. '" At this I said, firmly, "I doubt not but what the poor man is mostsurely maligned. " Whereupon Mistress Butter did wax exceeding wroth. "Why wilt thou e'er be seeking to plead the cause o' villains?" criedshe. "First that bloody beast o' my lady's, now this bloody villain o'th' devil's. I do wonder at thee, Anthony Butter. " Whereat I did put inthat I sometimes wondered at myself. "For why?" quoth she. "Why, that I ever married to be worded by a wench, " said I. And at thisI am most entirely sure that she would have cast her joint-stool at me, had she not been sitting on 't, and my lady's head against her knee. Soshe called me a "zany, " and then after a little a "toad, " but went onstroking my lady's hair. And, by-and-by, back we come to his lordship. "'Tis not alone his bloody tricks and murderous ways, " quoth my wife, "that causes all Christian folk to abhor him, but he consorts with noother women than drabs and callets. Dost excuse that?" "Nay, " said I, with sufficient gravity, "then is this earl no longer aman, but a swine, and not fit for men's discussion, much less that ofwomen. " At this reproof I saw anger again in her eye, but she was so pleasedwithal at having got me to call Lord Denbeigh a swine that she foreboreany further personal affront. "And yet, " she went on, "they do say he be as fine a man as a wenchwill walk through the rain to glimpse at, and a brave and a learned; butthat he wed a Spanish maid, and she betrayed him, and so he hath vowedto hate women, one and all. " "Hast thou seen him?" "Nay, but I've had him itemized to me by the wife o' Humfrey Lemon. Ablue eye, a hooked nose, a--" "Well, well, wife, " quoth I, "if a blue eye and a hooked nose be as badsigns in a man as they be in a horse, methinks this thy villain is avery round villain. " "And so he is, " affirmed she. "Yet, " said I, "there is somewhere in me a something that doth pityhim. " "By my troth!" cried my wife. "I do believe, Master Butter, thatthou'dst pity the Devil's wife in childbirth. " "Ay, that I would!" I made answer, with a great calmness, for I saw thatshe sought to rouse my spleen. "Well, do not bellow, " blurted she, "for my mistress is as sound as agold-piece. " Then quoth my lady, a-rising up on her elbow, "Nay, that she is not. And, moreover, she would hear all the storiesconcerning this bad and bloody Lord of Denbeigh!" II. When Marian heard my lady so speak, methought she would have swooned inverity; for she knew my lady's contempt for gossip. E'en for the firsttime in all her life, Marian could not find a word to her tongue. "La! my lady, " said she, and then stopped and was silent. My ladylaughed at her, with her deep eyes; but as was her wont, her mouth waswondrous solemn. "Ay, nurse, " quoth she, "thou thought'st me safe i' th' Land o' Nod, butone hath ears to hear there as elsewhere. " Then she reaches out onehand and plays with Marian's ruff. "Go to, nurse, " says she. "Dost thounot see I am even i' th' same case with thyself? I too would gossip alittle. Come, word it--word it!" So Marian told her all that she had heard, together with a littleprophesying here and there, which boded no good to my Lord Denbeigh. Shetold how he had e'en been a brave lad, but how in Spain he had wed witha wife who played him false; how then he had vowed vengeance on allwomankind, becoming a brawler and a haunter o' taverns; how death was inhis sword and lightnings in his eye. My lady listened, and now and again she would pinch her eyelids softlywith her thumb and ring-finger, as one who is deep in thought. But whenMarian paused for breath, she turned to her, and quoth she, "Nurse, thou hast often preached unto me; listen now to my preachings. Thou shalt often hear a man abused, nurse, but chiefly for that whichhe hath never done. This wild lord, I doubt not, hath been guilty ofsorry deeds. What man hath not? But the half that thou hast told me isnot to be believed. " Then went she to her room, taking Marian with her, but I saw that shewas moved. It was but the next day that my lady's uncle, Sir John Trenyon, cameriding into the court. He often came in such wise, to bide for a day ortwo with his niece. A most courteous gentleman; red of face, blue ofeye, and blithe of tongue. He had a jest for each tick o' th' clock, anda kind word for all. "Ah, Butter, " saith he, "and where is thy mistress? And thy wife, thegood Dame Marian--where is she? And how about thy family? Hast thou nobetter prospects than of yore?" Whereat I looked sorrowful enough, I doubt not, for he did bid me takeheart, as my first-born might have had a hare-lip or a crook-back. Thendid he toss me his bridle-reins, and my lady, having heard his voice, came forth to meet him. "So, lady-bird!" quoth he, clasping her. "I am come for no less thanthree reasons this time. First, to see thy bonny face. Second, to ridethy bonny Robin. Third, to inquire and seek out a certain villain ofmine acquaintance, of whom you have doubtless heard;" and forthwith didhe say to her of how the wicked Lord Denbeigh was the son of a friendand comrade, and of how he had known him when a lad, together with muchmore, at which my lady pricked up her ears, as 'twere, having all alady's love for stories of wicked men who are not yet either old orill-favored. "By my troth, " declared the old knight in ending, "I will take but amouthful to stay me, and then set forth straightway in quest o' th'rascal. " So having dined right heartily, he rode forth again. Now, having related this hap to Marian, she was devoured of so great acuriosity that, as I am an honest man, I looked to see her consumed evenunto her bones, as some men who burn of drink. She would have it that Imust hazard a guess on the shape of Lord Denbeigh's nose, the color ofhis hair, and the height of his body. She forced me to wonder whether hewere civil or rude of tongue. She pressed me to say whether I thoughtthere was aye a chance of his returning with Sir John. She questionedme, in a word, until, having no answers, I was like to lose my wits, ormy temper, or both together. At last comes she and sits on my knee, andtickles the back of my neck right playfully, as in the days of ourwooing. "As I live, Tony, " quoth she, "we are like to have a strange story underour very noses. What if"--and here she takes my face in her two hands, and sets her chin against mine, so that I see four round blue eyesagainst her white brow, and am like to go blind with herthoughtlessness--"what if it turns out that the Lord hath set upon ourlady to be the saviour of this wicked earl?" "Ay, " cried I. "And what if the Lord hath set upon me to be the founderof a nation, like Abraham? What then?" At which she boxed my ears rightsoundly. But I could not blame her, for in the wrong I was, withoutdoubt, although verily she had plagued me into it. So I sued for pardon, and got it, and a kiss into the bargain. But she would not leave me inpeace concerning Lord Denbeigh. When that same afternoon there comes Sir John a-riding past, and the badearl at his side, "What dost thou say now?" quoth Marian, a-plucking mein a way that did not serve to increase good feeling betwixt us. "Ahha! Are not women prophetesses by nature?" "Ay, by ill-nature, " answered I; and for this quip I was not forgivenfor two days. It was towards the setting of the sun when Sir John and Lord Denbeighrode up to the door of Amhurste, and my lady, knowing naught, came outat the sound of the horses' feet, thinking only to greet her uncle. Thered light from the west shone on her, and dabbled her white kirtle aswith blood, and her face was like one of the red roses in her garden. Soshe put up her hand to shield it, and saw the stranger standing at herfeet. There was ne'er a nobler-looking man, for all he might outblack Satan inhis soul: straight of body, and strong of limb, and lofty of head. Hishair was the color of my lady's, and there seemed to be ever somesunshine in it, as he moved his head. Methought his face was fair andgoodly to look upon, albeit his lips went downward at the corners, andthere was a droop in his broad lids. He was clad all in a close suit ofdark velvet, and in his hand he held a black hat with a knot ofheron-plumes. My lady stood and looked down at him from under her long, white hand, and he stood and looked up at my lady, as one looks upward at a fairpicture. And the evening light crept between them. I was ashamed of myown folly, when I did catch myself remembering Marian's silly sayings;but for all that, they did come back to me, as the words of a foolishwoman will return to the wisest of men. And in truth he did gaze up ather, as though she were more holy than the heavens above her. And forall her hand, the sunset found its way unto her cheek. What I now relate was told me by Marian some three days after. 'Twas onthe night of the day on which Sir John had brought the stranger toAmhurste, and Marian was carding out my lady's tresses before herbedroom fire. Quoth my lady, suddenly, "Nurse, didst thou see Lord Denbeigh ere hewent?" And Marian said that she had seen him. "He hath a strange face, nurse. " "How 'strange, ' my lady?" "Why, it seems to me that each feature in it doth contradict the other. His brow is stern, and saith to his eyes, 'Ye shall not be gentle. ' Hiseyes say to his nose, 'Spread not thy nostrils so proudly. ' His nosecommands his lips that they smile not; but, nurse, there was ne'er asweeter smile on the lips o' a saint!" Marian fell a-thinking, and pulled my lady's hair. My lady heeded itnot, so Marian fell a-thinking yet more deeply. "It is not a face that tells of a bad heart, " continued my lady. "Ratherit speaks of rebellion and misfortune. A sad story--a sad story. " "What is, my lady?" asked Marian; but my lady was far away, whitherMarian could not follow. "Nurse, " she saith, presently, "that were a soul worth saving. " Then gotshe suddenly to her feet, and turned and took her nurse's hands withhers. "It shall be saved, " she saith, "God helping. " And she kissed Marian, and lay down upon her bed. But Marian did tell mehow that no sleep visited her lady's eyes that night. Through thedarkness she could hear her turn, first on this side, then on that; thensigh and move her pillow, and sigh again. Methought Marian would have split in sunder with importance, when LordDenbeigh took to coming sometimes to Amhurste. 'Twas never for even anhour that he stayed; and 'twas always some question of business thatbrought him. But my lady and he touched hands full oft during a week, and always he would look at her with a different look from that whichhis eyes did wear at other times. And she spoke to him e'er courteouslyand kindly, even as though he had been a holy man and worthy of allreverence. One day it chanced that my lady rode the blue-roan out into the woods, towards the hut of old Joan Gobble, who was crippled by reason of age. My lady had me follow her on Dumble, th' white nag, with a pat o' butterand some wine. I was taken up with pondering as to why my lady should goin person to Dame Gobble's, seeing she might have sent me alone onDumble as well. Be that as it may, as we rode along by a brook-side, under the thick leaves, whom should we come upon but my Lord Denbeigh. He was kneeling beside the water, and holding down his hand into thebrook. As I looked I saw that his hand was befouled with gore, and thatthe brown stream did rush away ruddily from beneath his fingers. My lady did not wait for me to hold Robin Hood, but did swing herselffrom her saddle, and was beside the earl in a trice. He looked up, andseeing her, did start upon his feet. "Nay, " said she, putting out her hand, "but tell me if I can aid thee. " And he strove to hide his hand at his side, saying. "Tis but a scratch;"but the blood ran down like water on the grass. "Think not to spare me the sight o' blood, " said my lady, "for I amlearned in bandaging wounds. " And certes she was, seeing that every soulat Amhurste did come to her for healing, let a cat but scratch them. Andshe took his hand between her two fair hands (having drawn off hergloves), and saw that his wrist was deeply severed as with a knife. Butshe asked him no questions, telling him only to stoop while she cleansedhis hand sufficiently to bind it. And as she laid it in the water, andpressed the lips of the wound together, he said unto her in a low tone, not meaning that I should hear him, "Would that thou couldst wash my soul as thou hast washed my hand!" She looked straight into his eyes, with her own so clear and honest, like a dog's (meaning no disrespect to my lady, as God knows), and sheanswered him and saith, "It were well worth the washing, my lord; but an higher than I mustcleanse it. " And he saith, "There is none higher. " At that my lady's blood rose in her cheek, but she besought him that hewould not speak to her in such wise. When she had made a compress of thenapkins in the basket wherein I was carrying Dame Gobble's butter, andhad stanched the blood, she unwound the ribbon from her silverhunting-horn, and cast it about his neck for a rest to his wounded arm. Then he did bend down his head and kissed the ribbon, and my lady turnedquickly, and got upon the roan, and rode away at so smart a pace thatmethinks Dame Gobble's butter and wine did reach her in a closerconjunction than she could have found pleasant. When I told Marian of this encounter, merely by the way of a bit ofgossip, she did smile in such a wise that I was minded to cuff a womanfor the first time in a long life. It was that same night that Marian did tell me how that she feared theearl was in danger of some sort, judging by certain words that my ladyhad let fall in her sleep. I noticed how that my lady seemed restless, and would start at the clap o' a door, or when Herne did come suddenlyupon her. And one day she leaned from a window, as I swept up therose-leaves from the grass on the east terrace, and called to me to comethither. She was as white as her kirtle, and her gray eyes were darklike water before a storm. She did not look at me, but beyond into theair. So I waited, having plucked off my cap, and my lady stood looking, looking; and after a while she saith, "Thou hast aye been a true and faithful servant unto me: therefore I amabout to give unto thee a great charge. " And I said, "My lady, thou knowest that thou canst trust me;" and intruth I could say no more, for my throat was stiff. And she continued and said, "Thou must be to-night at the Red Deer, and that by nine of the clock. One will be there in whom we have both deep interest. I cannot tell theemore. Take thy sword with thee, but have no fear--thou wilt have nocause to use it. Yet, lest thou be fearful, take it with thee. " And shesaid, "Thou wilt remember?" "My lady, when have I e'er forgotten word of thine?" Whereat she did putout her fair hand to me, saying, "Never, " and there were tears in hereyes. So that night (for the first time in many years) did I find myselfwithin the doors of the Red Deer. A cosey place it was, despite thewine-bibbers that did profane it; and the inn-keeper's wife, a mostbuxom, eye-pleasing wench, with three sturdy boys aye clambering abouther. As I looked, some hard and sinful thoughts did visit my heartconcerning the bounty that the Lord had lavished upon one who was abarterer of wine, when I, who had lived ever a temperate and (in so faras was in my power) a godly life, should remain childless. But I didconquer at last, bidding Satan get behind me, and was left in peace totoast my feet, and to ponder as to who it was that my lady had sent methither to mark. Had I not loved my lady with all my heart, methinks Icould not have stood the terms that were heaped upon me by the brawlers. I will not repeat the foul slanders; suffice it to say, I sustained forone half hour what few men are called upon to endure throughout alifetime. At last, the newness being gone, they left me in peace, and I, beingsettled safely in my corner, did set to work to watch the door. Who should enter at that very moment but my Lord Denbeigh! He waswrapped in a long brown cloak, and wore a broad hat, unornamented byplume or buckle, pulled down over his eyes. He came and tossed himselfinto a chair near the fire, and sat there pondering upon the coals, withhis legs out in front of him. Now, I have ever had a woman-weakness fora goodly leg in man, and the splendid limbs of Lord Denbeigh did witchme into a steadier gaze than that which civility doth permit. Thisby-and-by he did notice, and so spoke to me. "At what art thou staring, ancient?" quoth he, not unkindly. So I toldhim, whereupon he laughed somewhat. "Methinks thou art but a doting body, " he said, "and yet is thy facefamiliar. What now? Hast thou e'er met with me before?" Then did I lie right roundly, being, to confess the truth, not a littleafraid. "Out on thee, " saith his lordship; "the truth is not in thee. I ne'erforget a face; how, then, shall I forget a face such as thine? Certes Ihave seen thee before. Wilt thou colt me?" And again lied I--blackly, most abominably. "As thou wilt, " quoth he; "but thy face is known to me, for all that. " It was at this time that the door opened again, and there did enter astripling, clad all in dark maroon velvet, wrapped also about with along cloak, and having a velvet bonnet pulled down over his brows i' th'manner o' Lord Denbeigh's. One could see naught o' his visage for theshadow from his head-gear. The revelers scarce noted his entrance, beingfar gone in drink, and some having departed, and others asleep. The ladcame and stood near the fire, and I saw that he looked at Lord Denbeighfrom under his drooping bonnet--the earl having withdrawn unto a tableapart, with a glass of wine and some papers, and his sword across thetable. Even as I looked the boy turned, and went over, and leaned on thetable to finger the heavy sword. My heart was afraid within me, forthere was a dark light in the eyes that flashed up at the youth fromunder Lord Denbeigh's stern brows. I was nigh unto them, being but astride or two apart, and so marked all that passed between them. "By my troth, " quoth his lordship, "a valiant crack!" "Meaning me?" quoth the lad, smiling. "Ay, meaning thee, Sir Insolence. Dost thou know how to handle thine ownsword, that thou handlest a stranger's so freely?" "Even so. But I meant not to vex thee. In truth, I am come to thee on anerrand of life and death;" and as he spoke, he did doff his bonnet andtoss it upon the table, and the firelight and candlelight did leap uponhis fair curls, and as I saw his face it was the face of my lady. Theearl did start half-way to his feet, and his face was first like fireand then like snow. "Margaret!" he saith, back of his teeth, as 'twere. And the lad smiled, leaning still upon the table. "Nay; my sister is called so, " he said, "but my name is Robert, and I amthe Lord of Amhurste and her brother. Haply she hath mentioned me untoyour lordship. " The earl stared as one who sees a ghost (though I believe not in themmyself), and he saith, "Whence comest thou? All think that thou artdead. " And the boy said, "Nay, but I would not that any besides thee knew of my whereabouts. Asto thee, I know more concerning thee even than my sister, and it is forher sake that I come to thee to-night. " And my lord saith, "For her sake?" "Even so. I am come to persuade thee that thou wilt not go on the errandthou wottest of two nights hence. There are those who do mean theedeath. It is certain that thy life is plotted against. Surely thou wiltbe warned?" And as I looked, the color left the lad's face, and he grewwhite as any woman. Almost I could have sworn it was my lady's face. Line for line, eyelash for eyelash, look for look. And methought nomother's heart e'er yearned towards her new-born babe as yearned myheart towards the youth. It seemed as though I must cry out to him. Tosee him thus after five weary years; to be so near him, and yet unableto touch even the latchet of his shoes, or to hear his voice calling myname. I trembled and was blind with longing. When at last I did lookup, he said again, "Surely, thou wilt be advised?" The earl leaned with his forehead set in his clasped hands, andby-and-by he said, "It is impossible. Would that I could!" And the lad said, "Nay, it is not impossible. Thou canst save thine own life with a word. " And Lord Denbeigh answered him: "My life is not worth even a word, " and he did not lift up his foreheadfrom his hands. Then said my master, "Thy life may be worth less than naught to thee, but to others its price is above their own. " And again he was as pale asany girl. And he spoke again and said, "Thou wilt not go? Thou wilt be warned?" And again did the man answer, saying, "Impossible. " Then saith my master, "Lord Denbeigh, if thou goest to London on the morrow, I will followthee there. Nay, thou canst not prevent me. And think you my sister'sheart will be warmer towards thee if her brother's blood be spilled atthy behest?" And the earl sat with his stern eyes on the lad, and he said, "Thy blood will ne'er be spent at my behest. I do forbid thee to followme. " And the lad said, "I am not to be forbidden. " So they stood and looked at one another. Andall at once the boy put out his hand ('twas my lady's very gesture) andtook the earl's sleeve, and saith he in a gentle voice, "Thou wert a man after God's own heart did not thou let Satan consortwith thee. " Then turned Lord Denbeigh with a laugh that was not merry. And he saith, "As thou quotest Scripture to me, select thy texts with greater care. Even to my mind there doth come one more suiting; for even as Job, 'I ama brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. '" Then saith the lad, still with his hand on the man's arm, "Is it not the more to thy discredit that thou, who couldst be brotherto Christ, do make brothers of dragons? Verily, my lord, I am boldthrough my sister, for methinks it is thus that she would have answeredthee. " And the man turned away as though to hide his face. III. Lord Robert spoke with Lord Denbeigh at some length, but he was not tobe turned from his purpose (which, methought, must be a very strange andgrewsome one, judging by their words). So finally they went outseparately, and I got me back to Amhurste. The next morning I did relate to my lady all that had passed, butmentioning no names, as I saw that she wished it not. And when I wasfinished she bade me go straightway to London and find out thewhereabouts of Lord Denbeigh. Moreover, she told me that she herselfwould be there shortly with Marian, and that they two would lodge at thehouse of Marian's aunt, one Mistress Pepper, a linen-draper's wife. Atthis I wondered greatly, the more that she should keep silent concerningher brother than that she should follow him to London. And all that Icould think was that Lord Robert was in some dire conspiracy, likewisethe earl, and that she feared for the lives of one or both. So we all goto London, I earlier than my lady and Marian. For a day I lost sight of Lord Denbeigh (whom I had followed closely allthe way from Warwickshire), but the next afternoon I marked him as hepassed along a by-way, and heard him speak with some one of his friends, naming a tavern where he would meet him at a certain hour that night. So first I found out where the tavern was, then straight to my lady andacquainted her with all that I had discovered. She said naught but to commend my diligence, and she went whiter than ajust washed sheep at shearing-time. Quoth I to myself, "Butter, there ismore here than thou wottest of;" which was very true. That night, a little before the hour set upon, I did get me to thetavern, and lurked quietly in the shadows where none might observe; andthere, verily, was the earl and him with whom he had spoken in theafternoon. He had but said a word or so when Lord Robert entered, andwent and stood at his elbow, but did not touch him or pluck at hiscloak. Albeit, the earl seemed to feel his presence, for shortly heturned and saw the lad. "How!" quoth he. "Thou here?" And the boy said, "I told thee I would follow thee. " And Lord Denbeigh answered him, "Dost thou know of what thou speakest?" And the lad said, "Verily I know, and thou mayest trust me;" and withthat he muttered two or three words under his breath, which, because ofmine old ears, I could not catch. And the two men started and looked atone another. Then the earl did turn to his friend, saying to him thatthey could indeed trust the lad. So they three clasped hands. When thatwas done, Lord Denbeigh turns to my master, and saith he, "Hast thou thydirk with thee?" and the lad answered that he had both sword and dagger. "Not that there is any danger, " quoth the earl, "but that thou mayestfeel easy. " But the lad said, "There is danger, as I have told thee; and thou artputting thy life in jeopardy. " At this Lord Denbeigh only laughed; butas they went out into the street I marked that he kept the lad close athis side, almost as a mother keeps a child. The night was still and cold, and the sky full of little white cloudsthat lapped the one over the other, like shells on a seashore. Now andagain the moon would strike through, in a long, bright ray, that seemedlike a keen blade or lance severing the misty air. The three went on andon, through many winding ways, and still I followed, for I knew not intowhat danger the lad might be hastening. All at once, in a dark turning, there came the clang of swords and arushing and scuffling, but no cry of any kind; and methought the silencewas more hideous than sound. Stiff as were my old joints with disuse, Idrew my sword and lay about me lustily, striving to get between thevillains and my young master (which is no credit to me, as I was sowrought with rage that I verily believe I would have no more felt thethrust of a rapier than Marian's housewife the prick of a needle). Butthere was no method in aught, neither could anything be seen; for themoon had withdrawn behind the clouds, and we seemed to be fightingunderneath clear water, so pale and ghastly was the light shed about usfrom the pale clouds. And as I struck out with my sword I saw a fellowin a mask close with Lord Denbeigh, lifting a dagger high in his hand, while another rascal pinned the earl's hands to his sides. And even as Ilooked, the lad leaped between, and the thin knife went deep into hisbreast. At the same time there was a louder clash of swords, and athudding of men's bodies together, and the masked wretches turned aboutand did take to their heels with a good will. So I sheathed my sword andran forward. Lord Denbeigh and his friend were bending over the lad, who layout-stretched between them, with his white face turned up to the whitesky, looking like the face of a dead man at the bottom of a clear pool. Then could I not withhold my grief, but cried aloud, "My master, mymaster!" and tried to feel with my trembling old hands for the wound. Then said the earl, "Not here! I will carry him to a place of safety. "And he lifted the boy in his arms, as though he had been a hurt child. When the other saw that, he laid hold on Lord Denbeigh's arm, saying, "What mean you? are you distraught? There is but scarce time by theclock. " And the earl said, "Go you on. I must take this boy where his wound canbe bound. " "Nay, " said the man. "I tell you, you are mad!" And Lord Denbeigh turned on him, and spoke in a harsh voice: "I have said I will not go. I have done with thee and thine. Go thy waysere it be too late;" and he passed on and left the man to swallow themoonshine with his great gaping mouth. And he saith unto me, "Follow closely. " So by-and-by we came to a greatgray house, and Lord Denbeigh opened the door and bade me enter withhim. We passed through a vast hall, and up a ponderous staircase, and into aroom. A fire was burning on the hearth, and there was a fantastic kindof lamp swinging from a silver chain above the bed's foot. I guessed rightly that this was his lordship's own apartment. He laidthe lad on the bed, and fell to undoing his doublet of black velvet. Idid see him set to shivering, as 'twere, when he noted the red stains onthe shirt underneath, and my heart stood still within me. Then he openedthe red linen, and did put in his hand gently to feel if the heart wereyet beating; but no sooner had he done this than he gave a strange cry, and drew out his hand dripping with blood, and stood staring andtrembling. At the same moment the lad stirred, and opened his eyes, andbegan to clutch feebly at his doublet, drawing it together. I madenaught of it until Lord Denbeigh did turn to me, with the face of a deadman, and quoth he, "Stay here while I fetch women, " and so rushed outlike one in truth distraught. Then did it all come upon me, and I knew that the face upon which Ilooked was the face of my lady. Ere another second had passed I heard the earl's voice without, and hespoke with a woman: "Do thou go instantly and clothe the lady within in some of thygarments; and have care that thou say no word to any of what hathhappened, else will it not be well for thee. " When I heard the tone in which he spoke, methought in truth it would notbe well for her did she not heed his commands. Shortly there entered a woman most marvellous fair, with hair thatseemed spun of black taffetas, and a skin like a white jasmine. Whenshe saw the blood her lips whitened, and she did close them moreclosely, but no cry escaped her. Whereat I was much ashamed, rememberingthe hullabaloo that I had raised. I turned aside while she disrobed my lady and clothed her in cleanlinen, and drew down the sheets, placing her between them. But the bloodstill flowed in spite of all bandages, and the fair linen was sooncrimson. And when all was prepared, the woman went to the door and said, "You canenter, " and the earl came into the chamber again. When, however, he didsee my lady he cried out, "God in heaven! she will bleed to death!" andhe called the woman, and showed her how to stanch the wound. Then, whenthe steps of the surgeon were heard in the hall without, he said untoher, "Remember. She is thy sister, and thieves have stabbed her for thejewels on her neck. " And she answered him, "I will remember. " And all this time methought I was in an evil dream, and that Marian, forsome spite, would not awaken me. How it came about, to this day I recollect not, but ere two weeks hadsped we were again at Amhurste, and my lady in her own bower, underMarian's care. As to that, Marian had been with my lady ever since thefatal night whereon she was nigh done to death by that masked ruffian. The earl did go himself to fetch her from Mistress Pepper's, and afterthat she came neither of us saw the sloe-eyed woman any more. None had known of my lady's stay in town, saving my lady herself, LordDenbeigh, the black-eyed woman (who never uttered word more, good orbad, after that she had said, "I will remember"), Marian, and me. Sobesides us five no one was the wiser. It was towards the last of May that my lady did beg that we would lifther out to sit in a long-chair on the east terrace. The birds were attheir morning gossiping in the shrubbery, and the air was most sweetwith the breath of the white lilacs. My lady looked like a snow-wreathfallen suddenly among the greenery of spring, but her eyes did peepsoftly, like bluebells, from the snows of her face. Methought she wasall white and blue, like the heavens above her, and her hair madesunshine over all. Herne, the blood-hound, lay at her feet, and wouldnot be stirred, though for sport my lady had Marian to tempt him withsome comfits. While we were all there, and my lady showing us how the light shinedthrough her thin hands, and discoursing right merrily, there came a pageand handed her a letter. Back fell she among her pillows, and hereyelids dropped over her eyes, like snow-flakes fallen on violets. Anonshe opened the letter, and having read it, said unto Marian, "Nurse, gobid him hither. " So Marian beckoned me, and we left her. As we enteredthe house, who should pass us but my Lord of Denbeigh, and o' my word hewas whiter than my lady, if anything, and wrapped as usual in a longcloak. He seemed not to see us, and we went on in silence. Here transpires the only part of this narrative concerning which I amreluctant to write. I will out with it, however, and the Almighty knowsthat I have not done with repentance even yet. So be it. There was awindow overhanging the terrace where my lady sat (the window out ofwhich she had leaned to speak to me about repairing to the Red Deer). But let me not defer longer. I, Anthony Butter, of respectable parents, and counted among my fellows and betters an honest man, did go to thiswindow, and did most deliberately listen to the words that passedbetween my mistress and the Earl of Denbeigh. In fact (for I have swornto keep back no jot or tittle of the truth), I did speed me so fast thatI was at the window ere his lordship reached my lady's side. He came slowly, but his look went before him, and was fast upon mylady's face ere he himself was within ten yards of her. When at last hewas come to her side, he did stand and look down on her, but uttered noword. And also my lady did look down, and there was a light like sunseton her cheek. Then suddenly did he drop upon his knees beside her, and bowed down hishead upon her knee and was silent. Then my lady (God forever keep her!)did turn her eyes quickly, and stole a look to see that no one was nigh(God forgive my dastardly presence!), and did reach out one pale hand, half fearfully as 'twere, and did let it rest upon the man's bowed head, as a white rose-leaf falls and rests on the earth. And she said but twowords, "My friend;" yet methought all love was in them. Whereat heraised his head and looked at her, and it is so that men look upwardwhen they pray. He took her hands with his and held them to his breast, and he saith, "Dear saint, if thou forgivest me, wilt thou but kiss mybrow?" And she bended forward and kissed him; and he trembled, callingher by name; and she asked him what he would with her. Then kneeling ather side, he spoke to her, and his words were as follows: "Thou hast heard of my life and of my misfortunes, but all hath not beentold thee. Grant me but patience for a moment, that I myself may tellthee all. " And she saith unto him, "Say on. " So he spoke and said, "There is much that I may not tell thee, yet partI will tell thee, for that I must. Thou hast heard how that my wife--"But he could not continue, so dropped his face into my lady's hands, and she waited for him, saying softly, "I will understand what thou dost not say. Be not troubled, but speakout thy soul to me;" and presently he told her more. As I do live, neverlistened I to sadder story. So piteous it was that my tears fell downlike rain, and I was sore afraid that my sighing would discover mywhereabouts. But the Almighty is merciful even to sinners, and Iremained unnoted. 'Twas the old tale of love and treachery; a false wifeand a friend who was a villain. The earl had killed the man (but in fair encounter), and his wife he hadbrought back, never to be as husband to her more, but to preserve herfrom further sin. And I do maintain that 'twas a noble act, and I didquite forgive him the blood of his betrayer. Methought my lady didforgive him too, for she did but stroke his hair softly, saying ever andanon, "Poor soul!" or "God help thee!" And by-and-by he lifted hisface, and saith, "But the worst is yet to tell thee. " And she said again, "Say on. " And he trembled again, but spoke out bravely: "My wife yet lives. It wasshe who bound thy wounds. " Now at this I thought to see my lady swoon; but she only smiled, thoughbetter had one seen her weep than smile in such wise. And she saith, "Ihave known that these many days;" and she leaned towards him, and placedboth hands upon his head, saying, "Weep not. I hold thee guiltless. Donot weep. " But he sobbed, clasping her knees, as one whose heart is broken, sayingnow and again below his breath, "O God! O God!" If there be this side the stars a more awful sight than the sight of astrong man in tears, God grant I may ne'er behold it, for surely Ishould die of pity. Doth it please God that I resemble Abraham in thematter of age, if in none other, ne'er will that scene fade from mymemory--my lady, so wan and white and narrow, like a tall lily overwhich a rude wind hath swept, and at her knee the strong man, bowed as alittle lad that saith his prayers, clasping her kirtle and her hands, asthough one sinking in deep waters were to grasp at a floating stem offlowers for support. And after a while, when the violence of his griefwas spent, he saith unto her, "I sail for Spain with Essex on the morrow, as thou knowest; but it dothremain for me to tell thee why I go. It is for that I think the lad, thybrother, hath been a prisoner of war these many years, and I go to bringhim to thee. " And she sat and looked at him as though her heart had leaped from herbreast into his body; but she spake no words save only, "God keep thee;God go with thee. " And suddenly he saith unto her, as though the words would forth, "I loved thee from the moment that I saw thee. Let me but tell theethat. " She whispered, saying, "It was even so with me. " And he lifted his eyesand looked at her. Then fled I, as though I had drawn away the veil fromthe sanctuary, for I thought that God would surely smite me for havingbeheld that look. * * * * * So Lord Denbeigh sailed with the Earl of Essex for the war in Spain, andmy lady's soul left her body and went with him; for surely 'twas but herbody that remained at Amhurste. All day long would she sit silent, normove, nor look, and her hands the one upon the other before her, as whoshould say, "I am done with all things, whether of work or of play. " Sopassed the months, and ever and anon some report would reach the villageof the wild earl's deeds in Spain, and of how he would fight ten menwith one arm wounded and the blood in his eyes, and such like tales. Butno word came direct, either through letters or friends. So passed themonths, and it was nigh to August, and the fighting was over for thetime, when one day, with a clattering as of a horsed army, there comesdashing into the court two cavaliers on horseback, and one of them wasmy Lord of Denbeigh. Ere I could look at the other he had leaped to theground, and had me about the neck a-kissing me as roundly as ever awench in the market-place. And lo! when I looked, it was Lord Robert invery truth. He was grown out of all knowledge, and as brown as a nut, but as big and as bonny a lad as ever clapped hand to sword. When I could turn my eyes from him upon the earl, I saw that he waswaxed as pale as death, and wore his arm in a kerchief, and that therewas a great red streak adown his temple, clean through his righteyebrow. And his splendid flanks and chest were hollow, like those of agood steed that lacketh fodder. But when he stood and leaned against hishorse's neck and smiled at us, methought he was by far the goodliest manthat ever I had looked upon. His teeth were as white as the foam on hishorse's bit, and there was a deep nick at the corner of his mouth, likethat at the mouth of a girl. Then must I call Marian, and send her to break the news to my lady. Soin a moment she comes rushing down along the stair-way, like a branchthat is blown suddenly from the top o' a tall tree, and so into LordRobert's arms; and he catches her to his heart, and so stands holdingher; and they make no motion nor any sound whatever. Then turns the earlaway, and leaves them together. But I marked that his eyes werebrimming, and that there was a quiver in his lip. Ere night all is known to us: how Lord Robert had been a prisoner inSpain all these years, yet was he treated with courtesy at the behest o'some wench. But he did not love her, God be praised! And 'tis in my mindto this day how he might have wed her, and how the earl did relate tohim his bitter experiences with a Spanish wife. Ay, that is my firmopinion. All this and more did we hear, laughing and weeping by turns. But it was not until Lord Robert saw my lady alone that she heard of howthe earl had saved him at the risk of his own life, all but bearing himin his arms through the enemy, hewing his way right and left. And, moreover, Lord Robert did tell how that the blood from that cut on theearl's temple did in truth run down into his eyes and blind him, but howthat he dashed it back and slew the man who wounded him, and so theyescaped. The next morning, as I did sally forth with my cross-bow to have a shotat a screech-owl which for some nights past had disturbed Marian'sslumbers, she in her turn having disturbed mine, I did see Lord Denbeighcome out upon the terrace and throw himself down along the grass, beneath a tulip-tree, with a book. But he read not, lying very quiet, with his head raised up upon one hand and his elbow sunk in the softturf. And as the sunlight struck through the leaves upon his glitteringhair, and his face like marble, I could not but pause to gaze on him, sonoble looked he. But his eyes were far away, and his thoughts with them. It was for this that he did not hear my lady coming until she stoodbeside him, and her white gown brushed his cheek. But seeing her, heleaped to his feet, and the blood ran along his face, and then seemedall to settle in the long wound, leaving him more pale than before. Andshe said to him, "Nay, do not rise, for thou art weak yet;" but he would not be seated, so they stood there, side by side in the fair morning light. Andpresently she puts out her hand (no one ere reached out their hand asdid my lady), and she just lays it on his sleeve, and saith she, "I amcome to thank you--to thank you with all my heart and soul--" and therea sob chokes her, and she can say no more. Again the blood swept up across his brow; and he said, "For God's love, say no more. " But she answered, saying, "Nay, I have so much to say. " And she camenearer to him for a little space; and her head drooped downward, like aflower full of rain. And she did knit and unknit her white fingers asthey hung before her. And she saith, "There is no guerdon worthy such aknight, but if an thou--" Then all on a sudden did she reach out both arms towards him, and herfair hands, palms upward, and the scarlet leaped to her very brow; butshe lifted her little head proudly, albeit her eyes were droppeddownward, and she said unto him, "Take me, for I am thine. " And he trembled from head to foot, and parting his lips as though tospeak, reached out his arms and clasped her. And when I realized what I had done, I did drop my cross-bow and took tomy heels, like one followed by goblins. Now, even as I hope to be saved, I but just come to recognize that thiswas my second eavesdropping. So be it. I have vowed, and must keep myvow. It was all made clear to me that night, when Marian did relate to me howthat the Spanish woman had slain herself by swallowing flame. At which(though mightily pleased, God forgive me, on account of my lady and theearl) I was more than ever thankful that Lord Robert had escaped aliveand unwed out o' th' clutches o' th' Spanish wench. And here itoccurreth to me that I have not yet told that Marian did know from thefirst of my lady's going up to town dressed as her brother. This Irecord more on account of its being a marvellous instance of a woman'skeeping her tongue than to shame Marian, who hath often read how thatwives should submit themselves unto their husbands as unto the Lord. Howbeit, all ended so happily that I had not the heart to scold her. With the first frosts of October my lady and the earl were wed. Methought the queen herself could not have had a finer wedding, andcertes no woman could have had a nobler spouse. He was yet pale from hiswounds, but most soldierly of bearing and proud of carriage. He was cladall in white, like my lady. A more beauteous apparel I have never seen. His doublet was of cloth of silver, with a close jerkin of white satinembroidered in silver and little pearls. His girdle and the scabbard ofhis sword were of cloth of silver, with golden buckles. His poniard andsword were hilted and mounted in gold, together with many blazing ordersand richer devices that I know not how to enumerate. My lady's gown was all of white satin, sewn down the front with littlepearls, like those on my lord's jerkin, and her ruff was of soft lace, not stiff, as was the fashion, but falling about her bosom most modestlyand becomingly. Lord Robert, methinks, was eke as goodly, after his way, as either his sister or Lord Denbeigh, being close clad from head tofoot in crimson sarcenet, slashed all with cloth of gold. My lady hadgiven me some suiting clothes for the occasion; and as for Marian, methought in her new gown of sea-green taffeta, with her new ruff andhead-gear, that she looked as fair a matron as any mother of fine ladsin all England. IV. Seven months they had been wed, and it was May again. Methought suchlove had never been on earth since Eden. 'Twas gladness but to see them. And all, moreo'er, was so well with Lord Robert, who, folks did say, wasin mighty great favor at court, and like to become a shining light inthe land. 'Twas on a May morning. The trees were a-lilt with birds, and the soundof waters set all the winds a-singing. All at once comes my lord, andsets his hand on my shoulder. Then know I that something dire hathhappened. And he saith, "Friend, where is thy mistress?" And I tell him that she is out among her roses. Then saith he all at once, "The Queen hath sent for me--I must to war. " And I could do naught but stare at him. And he said to me: "In an hour Imust be gone. Say naught to thy mistress. I will go don a suiting dress, and do thou bring me my sword and give it into my hand. " And he went, returning shortly, and I gave him the sword. It was thenthat we heard the voice of my lady without, and she sang a song of thespring-tide. The words I have ne'er forgot, though I did but hear themonce: "For O! For O! The cowslips blow, And the ground's all gold below me; The speedwell's eye Peers up so bli' I swear it seems to know me! "The lady-smocks In silver frocks Do flout the sonsy clover; The humble bee Consorts wi' me And hails me for a rover. "Then trip, then trip, And if ye slip Your lad will lend a hand O; The lass in green With black, black een, Is the fairest in the land O. " And as the earl listened methought he would have fallen, grasping myshoulder, old man as I was, and bending down his head upon it. And I didstay him with my arm, as though he had been my very son--for old age isfather to all men. So my lady comes in, with her gold hair blowing, and her white kirtlefull of red roses, and seeing her lord goes to meet him. But when shenoted the soldierly fashioning of his dress, and the sword girt at histhigh, she opened her lips as though to cry out, but no sound escapedthem. And her kirtle slipped from her hold, and the red roses laybetween them like a pool of blood. Then she saith unto him, "Tell me. Quick, quick!" And he lifts her to him, and saith, "Sweetheart, my Queen hath bidden mecome fight for her and for my country. " And she saith naught, only clasps him. But by-and-by she cries out, saying, "Go not! Go not! Else wilt thoukill me. " And so speaking, falls like one dead at her lord's feet. Then I, running like one distraught to fetch Marian, do tilt pell-mellinto Lord Robert, who hath come down to Amhurste for a week or so ofrest. "Heydey!" quoth he. "What Jack-a-lent hath frighted thee?" And I toldhim all. Never a word said he, but went straightway and got upon hishorse, and clapped spurs to its sides, and so out of sight. And all that night my lady lay nigh to death, so that there was ne'er athought in the breast of any for another soul. Therefore Lord Robert wasnot missed. Ere two days were past came a man with despatches, and we found out howthat Lord Robert had substituted himself for the earl (having acquaintedthe Queen with the circumstances--and he being, moreover, so great afavorite), and how the Queen had granted Lord Denbeigh leave to remainin England a while longer. And so his lordship was with his lady when their child was born, butLord Robert was killed in the wars. They grieved sore for him, and for many weeks would not be comforted. And even it was said that the Queen mourned for him, and did banish allfestivities from court for the space of several days. But like as the stars do pale in the morning sky, so pales the orb ofsorrow before the rays of the great sun, happiness. And though he was ne'er forgotten, and though the tears would spring tomy lady's eyes heard she but his name mentioned, yet she did smile againand was happy. It chanced but this morning that Marian and I, leaning from the windowthat overlooks the east terrace, did see a most winsome sight. 'Twas a fair morning, and May again, and on such mornings as these mylady would go forth on the east terrace with the child. And there growall such sweet flowers as my lady loves--the red mule-pinks, anddame's-violets, such as are sweet o' evenings, but marvellous fair tolook upon both by sunlight and moonlight. And the south wall was allthick with the yellow violets, so that my lady's head looked like thehead o' a saint against a golden platter. And there did my lady sit, ona quaintly wrought bench, with the little lord. And this morning, when she was seated, and the babe curled against herbosom, and Marian and myself thinking o' the pictures o' the Virgin Maryand the blessed Jesus (saving that my lady's kirtle was all of white andgold, like the lilies, knotted in her waistband), she looked up on asudden, and lo! there was the master coming along over the grass towardsher. When he saw who it was that sat there, he doffed his plumed hatlike as though it had been the Virgin Mary for very truth, and he pauseda minute, but then came on. When my lady saw him who he was, there came a fair red o'er all thewhite o' her throat and face; ay, and withal over her very bosom. Andshe put up one white hand, with her wedding-ring on't, and made asthough she would shield the sun from the babe's eyes. And all this time my lord came slowly over the grass, as though thesweet sight did pleasure him both far and near. And when he wasapproached, he stood, still with his hat in his hand, and looked down atthe babe and its mother, and was silent. Then the child, feeling mayhap that its father was near, twisted overtowards him, reaching out its waxen arm, and smiled right knowingly;whereat my lord did pluck the great plume out o' his hat and lay itacross my lady's bosom; moreover, he knelt and put an hand on the babe, but his arm he held about his wife. Then did she draw both my lord and the child to her, and pressed themagainst her, but her face she lifted Godwards. And something spoke within our hearts that we turned and left thewindow. THE FARRIER LASS O' PIPING PEBWORTH. HUMFREY LEMON, meeting Bered Turnip, before the "Red Deer, " doth speakas follows: * * * * * Whom have we here? Well, well, by my troth! 'tis none other than BeredTurnip, the farrier, as I do live! Come for an alms-drink, comrade. Would I had as many gold-pieces as we have burnt alnights i' this verytavern! And is it thus we meet after all these years? It doth seem butyesterday that we supped under this very roof as juvenals. Dost thoumind thee o' the night that we gave old Gammer Lick-the-Dish a bath inhis own sack, for that he served us in a foul jerkin? By'r lay'kin, those were days! Well, well, to meet thee thus! Though, believe it ornot, as thou wilt, I had such a pricking i' my thumbs but an hour gonethat I was of a mind to roar you like any babe with a pin in hisswaddling-bands. Thou wast my beau-peer i' those times; and we are kinby profession, moreover. How be Mistress Turnip and thy eight lads? Ha!ha! Dost remember how old Anthony Butter--him who was gardener atAmhurste Castle, ye mind--dost thou remember in what spite he held theebecause o' those eight little salads o' thine? A always said a marriedwith an eye to a's posterity; and o' my word a's been cockeyed e'ersince, for's posterity has e'er kept him on the lookout: never chick orchild hath Mistress Butter given him. Quoth he to me one day, a-setting of 's chin in 's thumb and forefinger(thou mind'st his solemn ways)--quoth he to me, "Lemon, " quoth he, "would I knew why the Lord doth seem to look with a more bounteous favoron such as are farriers, than on such as be followers of other trades;for methinks, what with thee, and Turnip, and Job Long-pate, who bidesin Dancing Marston, England will owe the chief o' her future populationto blacksmiths. " I quoth, to humor him, quoth I, "Belike, MasterButter, " quoth I, "the Almighty hath gotten wisdom by experience, anddoth purpose to put no further trust in gardeners. " Whereat he waxed sowrathful, that for the sake o' my breeches I took to my heels. But, Lord! it doth seem as though a had a spite against th' very children o'others. Thou mindest my Keren? By'r lay'kin, 'twill not stick i' my oldpate how that thou hast not been in these parts since my Keren could 'a'walked under a blackberry-bramble without so much as tousling hertresses. Well, a grew up a likely lass, I can tell thee! Sure thoumindest why we--my wife and I--did come to call her Keren? Go to! Thoudost! 'Tis the jest o' th' place to this day. Well, then, if thou dostnot, I'll be at the pains o' telling thee; for methinks 'twas a wisethought. We did christen her Keren-Happuch; "for, " quoth my wife, "whenthat we be pleased with her, we can call her Keren--which is assweet-sounding a name as a maid can have; and, on the other hand, whenwe be wroth with her, we can call her Happuch--which sure would be arough name even for thy trotting mare Bellibone. " Ha! ha! And thereby, comrade, hangs another tale, as Master Shakespeare was wont to say. Mywife, thou must know, hath e'er been a loyal admirer o' our graciousQueen, and it comes to her ears one day as how her Majesty did ridea-horseback most excellent well. Naught would do but that I must letMistress Lemon mount for a ride upon my gray mare Bellibone. NowBellibone, though as willing a nag as ever ambled, did think far moreo' getting to her journey's end than o' the manner in which she didaccomplish the journey; and, I will say, a trotted as though a was forbreaking th' stones on th' Queen's highway, instead o' getting o'er 'em. Well, I did what I could to dissuade Mistress Lemon from her enterprise, but a was as firm as one o' my surest driven nails in a new shoe. So alet her go. Couldst thou but 'a' seen her when she was returned an hourafter! Ha! ha! ha! a was for breaking my head with my own pincers. "Dost thou call that devil's-riding-horse 'Bellibone?'" quoth she, withwhat breath there was left to her. "By my troth, I think she hath notanother bone in her whole body besides her backbone!" But I spake o' Keren. Thou knowest that even as a lass she had a sharptongue o' her own--as keen as a holly leaf, by my troth. So be it. 'Twasone day nigh unto Martlemas that old Butter did undertake to chide herfor conducting herself after the manner o' a lad rather than o' a lass. Quoth she to him, a-setting of her little black pate to one side, and ofher little brown arms akimbo--quoth she, "Since the Lord hath not mademe a lad, " quoth she, "I cannot more than act like one; and so I willdo!" Quoth he, "Thou hast a sour name, a bitter tongue, and a peppery temper, jade; and the two last be not gifts o' the Lord. " "And thou, " quoth she, "hast a mustard conceit, for right sure am I that'tis big enough for a goose to roost in! And whether th' Lord hath givenit to thee or not, I'm glad I have 't not, " quoth she; for she had heardit read, in some meeting whither her mother would sometimes take her, ofhow the fowls o' the air did lodge i' th' branches o' the mustard-plant. Well, by'r lay'kin, th' village hath ne'er forgot that to this day, andthat I'll prove thee when we be through drinking! What hath become o' her? Go to! Sure thou knowest that? Well, well 'tisa tale to make a play of. I've often thought, had Master Shakespeareknown of 't, how he would 'a' fashioned it into a jolly play. Tell theeof 't? What! art in earnest? By the mass, then, thou must drink again. Come, fill up, fill up. What there! a cup o' the amber drink for MasterTurnip! Let me see: how old was th' lass when thou didst set forth on thyjauntings? Some two years, methinks. And she was fourteen on the firstday o' March i' that year wherein she did sauce old Butter with some o''s own wit for gibing at her for a tomboy. O' my word, man, th' oldfellow was not far i' th' wrong. If e'er th' angel o' life did make anerror i' th' distributing o' souls, 'twas on the night Keren was broughtinto this world. And a say that with a cause, moreover; for th' samenight, mark you, one Mistress Mouldy, over the way, was brought to bedo' a man-child. That's neither here nor there. Herein doth lie thesingularity. That child did grow up to knit stockings i' th' door-waylike any wench; Peter Mouldy's th' name, and a plays a part i' th' storyI'm about to relate to thee. Ne'er in all thy travels hast thou e'erseen so crack-brain a wench as my Keren! Lord! it set thy head toswimming did she but enter a room. She had no more stability o' motionthan a merry-go-round; and she was that brown, a bun looked pale i' th'comparison, when she did lift it to her mouth to eat it. A strappingjade, and strong as any lad o' her age i' th' village. In her seemingshe took neither after her mother nor after me, though she was a comelywench as wenches go--hair as black as a January night in stormy weather, and eyes as big and as bright and as yellow (o' my word)--as yellow astwo crown pieces! They looked out from under her thick eyebrows likesunlight peeping from a heavy cloud. And she was made like a lad forsuppleness. Taller than her mother by head and shoulders, and within afull inch o' my forelock. By'r lay'kin! how she could sing too! Shewould troll thee a ditty i' th' voice o' a six-foot stripling, but fora' that, as sweet as bells far away on a still noon in summer-tide. Andshe was always getting hold o' saucy songs, and putting them to tunes o'her own invention. A could 'a' had aye the lads i' th' village, had awanted 'em; but, Lord! a had one sweetheart one day, and another thenext, till they were one and all for murdering or marrying her. But shewould none o' 'em. 'Twas one summer's day, her mother being gone to th'village, that she did set about to brew some sack; and as she did standby the big pot while it cooled, to see that naught fell into 't, upcomes Master Peter Mouldy with his knitting, and grins at her acrossthe caldron, after the fashion o' a horse eating briers. She notnoticing him, quoth he, "Good-morrow, sweet Mistress Lemon. " Saith she, not looking at him, "Thou liest. " "How, mistress?" saith he, with his mouth as wide as a church door on aSunday. "Why, for calling a lemon sweet, " saith she, "when all the world dothknow that it is sour. " Thereat he did fall a-grinning again. "Sweet, sweet mistress Keren, " quoth he, "'tis thee I praise, and notthy name. And I will wager that thou art not sour, Mistress Keren. " "How wilt thou find out, either to lose or to win thy wager?" quoth she. "Thus!" quoth he. And, o' my word, the homespun got his arms about her, knitting and all (though I would 'a' laid two cows and a lamb theycouldn't 'a' reached about her pretty waist), and smacked her rightheartily full on her red mouth. Well, comrade, that something would happen I knew full well; but whenshe did up with him by the seat o' his breeches and the collar o' hisjerkin, and did souse him head first into the pot o' sack, methought Iwould 'a' burst in sunder, like Judas Iscariot (meaning no blasphemy). And when he was climbed out, spluttering and white with terror, she didfish out his hat with his big knitting-needles, and did set it upon hishead, and did thrust him outside, and did shut the door in 's face. Butnever a word said she from first to last. Then methought in verity Iwould 'a' split in twain from top to toe, like the veil o' the temple(meaning no blasphemy, as I will swear on th' book). And when she caughtsight o' me she too fell a-laughing, and quoth she to me, "I havespoiled a good brew for thee, father, but 'twas worth the paying for. "And therewith she did out with the worth o' the sack from her purse, which she always carried in her bosom, after a fashion inherited fromher mother, and counted down the silver into my hand. I took it, for Iever strove to bring up my children in the ways o' honesty; and certesshe had spoiled the contents o' the caldron by turning it into abath-tub for Master Mouldy. Well, 'twas th' talk o' th' village for fulla month; scarce did young Mouldy dare put out his nose from behind thelattice o' his mother's cottage. But th' other lads seemed to fall moredaft about the lass than aye afore. Now, my wife's sister had a daughter, called Ruth, and in all things wasshe most different from my Keren. A'd a head as yellow as Keren's eyes, and eyes as brown as Keren's skin, and a skin as white as Keren's teeth;and a was slim and tender-looking, like a primrose that hath but justventured out on a day in early spring. Moreover, she was a timid, sweet-voiced creature--the kind o' wench that makes even a weak manfeel strong, ye mind, comrade. But a was ne'er o'er-civil to my lass. Neither did Keren waste much love upon her; she said from th' very startthat th' hussy had a sly tongue; "and a sly tongue, " saith she, "dothever mate with a false heart, " saith she; "and from such a marriage whatoffspring can ye look for, unless it be for mischief?" saith she. They had not much to do the one with the other, however, until thecoming of Robert Hacket to Pebworth. And a was as fine a lad as e'ercaused a lass to don her Sunday kirtle on a Saturday. 'Twas said as howhe had met with Ruth while that she was on a visit to her aunt inDancing Marston, and that he had come to Pebworth to wed with her. Allwould 'a' been well had not it come to Keren's ears how that MistressRuth said that she would bring Master Hacket to see her cousin Keren, but that she did not want her sweetheart to be out with her family erethat he had married into it; meaning neither more nor less than that myKeren was a shame unto her name by reason o' her romping ways. "The cat!" quoth Keren, waxing as red as any damask rose for very anger;"the little, spiteful cat! But I'll cut her claws for her! Do thou bideand mark me, father. Ay, I'll serve her and her Robert in such wisethey'll go to their graves remembering. " Now, 'twas the very next day that the lads and lasses o' the village didcrown her harvest-queen, and all Bidford was out to see 't. And veryqueen she looked, too, borne aloft in a throne made all o' dark redroses, and her dark curls crowned with a wreath o' corn and o' poppies, that shined in the sunlight like to gold strewn all with rubies. Shewore a new kirtle of white wool, and her brown throat rose from herwhite kerchief like as a frozen wood-dove's dusky breast doth peep fromnew-fallen snow. And Mistress Ruth walked beside her as one o' her maids o' honor. Andthey twain did remind me of naught so much as of a lamb trotting by theside of a forest doe--the one so meek and white, and the other so freeand brown, with great eyes ever moving, and head aloft. There, moreover, walked Master Hacket. He was as brown as my Keren, andnearly half as tall again; and he had eyes like pools o' water under anight heaven, wherein two stars have drowned themselves, as 'twere, andbrows as black and straight as a sweep o' cloud across an evening sky. Ruth walked at his side, all glittering with her unbound hair, like to asunbeam that follows a dark stream. And I saw that they talked together, and nodded as though agreeing on something, and looked together at mylass where she sat on her flower-throne with her poppy-crown, and herlips like poppies. And all at once she turned and saw them, and her lipsparted over her white teeth in a sudden smile, as when a kirtle o' redsilk doth tear over a white petticoat beneath; and she turned away; butI could see that she laughed in her brown throat, as a bird singssometimes for its own hearkening ere trolling for the whole forest. So Isaid to myself, "'Ware, 'ware, my little spring lamb; there is troubleahead for thee. Thou wilt not win thy Boaz so easily as thou dost think, my little Ruth. " Now, when they were come to the fields, and the maids seated under someelm-trees, and all the lads fallen to 't with their sickles, while thatthey were reaping the glistening corn my Keren doth leap to her feet, and she calls out, "I know not the name o' yonder man, but I do know that I can give him alesson in reaping!" So forthwith up jumps she, and, striding out into the sunlit meadow, jerks young Hacket's sickle from his hand, and, having turned back thesleeves o' her smock, stands well upon her shapely legs and begins toreap. Now, methought I had ne'er in all my life seen anything more pleasing tolook upon. The wind blew down her thick locks about her, so that she waswrapped in a mantle worthy any queen; while with every sweep o' herstrong brown arms the tumbling grain did fall like gold about her, sothat she seemed to be trampling upon her treasures after a manner trulyroyal. Also a red came into her shadowy cheeks, like as though a scarletflower tossed into a clear brown stream should rise slowly upwardbeneath the limpid surface and shine a-through. And all at once sheceased, and came back towards the young man, and returned his sickleunto him. And she said, smiling, "Take thou thy blade, for I have not only reaped the grain, but I havereaped the reward of my bragging as well. " And, behold! when I was comeup to them with a drink o' water in a gourd, there was the blood fallingdown upon her white kirtle, as though the poppies in her crown hadmelted in the sunlight and did stain her garment. He did cry out, saying, "O' my word, lass, thou art deeply hurt. Let mebut look at it. " She saith unto him (winding her arm about in her long hair), "Nay, 'tisnothing, and belike if thou look upon it 'twill spoil thy dinner: sohere's to thy health, and my father will bind it for me. " Then, when we were retired again into the shade, and I had torn a stripoff of her kirtle wherewith to stanch the blood, she laughed outright, and saith, "By my troth, father! I do verily believe thou thinkest me awkwardwithout a purpose. " "Purpose!" saith I; for I could not believe my ears. "How dost thoumean--purpose?" "That's neither here nor there, " saith she, still laughing. "But I'lllay thee my heifer, father, that Mistress Ruth's sweetheart cometh onthe morrow to inquire after Mistress Ruth's cousin Keren. " Wherewith she did make me a deep courtesy, and did get her back to theother lasses ere I could reply. Well, as I live, and must some day die, and do hope when I do die to getto heaven, I was so taken aback with the hussy's cunning I could donaught but stand and stare after her for some minutes. And on the morrow he did come, and on the day after that he came, andyet a third day and he was under my roof again. Then saith my wife, after that his third visit was o'er, and speaking toKeren as she sat spinning i' th' door-way, "Happuch, " saith she, "thouart serving thy cousin Ruth a very jade's trick. " Then, hearing as how she did call her "Happuch, " I did prick up my ears, as 'twere; for I knew there was anger brewing. "Thou art very free with thy words to-day, mother, " quoth the maid, a-spinning very quickly. "Not so free as thou art with thy favors to the sweetheart o' anotherlass, " replied her mother. "How dost thou know he is the sweetheart o' another lass?" saith Keren. "If an he be not, " quoth her mother, who, though not half so big as herchild, was in nowise less valiant--"if an he be not, " quoth she, "'tistime he were. " "And for why?" saith Keren. "Thou knowest as well as I do, Happuch, " saith my wife; whereat upstarted my crack-brain in a fine fury. "Why wilt thou call me that vile name, when thou knowest how it maddensme?" saith she, hurling her spindle upon the floor, and tightening bothher pretty hands so that they looked like balls o' her own brown yarn. "For that I am not pleased with thee, Happuch, " saith her mother, withall composure, looking at the linen as she washed it, with her headcocked to one side. "There again!" shouted my wildfire, stamping with her foot. "Why didstthou not call me Beelzebub and have done with 't?" "For the reason, " quoth her mother, calmly, "that neither Beel nor Zebubis a suiting name for a woman, and, furthermore, that thou art not theDevil, though thou dost act like him on occasions. " "Wife, wife, " put in I, seeing that the girl was like to split withrage, "speak gentler to Keren. " "To Happuch, " saith she. "Speak gentler to the girl, " saith I, hoping to compromise, as 'twere. "Happuch, " saith my wife again. "Well, well, " saith I, still hoping to split the difference, so that Iwould have neither my wife nor my daughter upon me, "if thou wouldstonly speak gentler to Keren-Happuch, thou--" "To Happuch, " saith my wife a third time; whereat the lass did bounceout o' the house without more ado, and spent that night with a friend o'her own, by name one Mistress Meg Titmouse. "Wife, " saith I unto her later, hoping to draw her into converseconcerning Keren, so that I might reason with her as to her treatment o'th' lass--"wife, " saith I, amiably, and, as I thought, in a manner mostwinsome, "wherefore didst thou speak to Keren as thou didst thismorning?" "I spake to Happuch, " saith my wife, "because I did choose so to do. Andas for the why o' that wherefore, though thou shouldst smirk tilldoomsday like a dog scratching his ear, ne'er wilt thou get it out o'me!" Then saith I, being justly angered, as I think thou wilt admit, comrade--saith I, "Thou art welcome to keep thy counsel!" saith I. And I followed the example set me by my vixen, and did spend more thanhalf the night at this very tavern. Well, the next morning, as I did pass out on my way to my forge, whomshould I see in the garden but my Keren and Master Robert Hacket! and ife'er a woman was possessed o' a devil, 'twas just that lass o' minethen, comrade. She had caused young Hacket to climb up into a pear-tree, and while that he was up there she did bear away the ladder by which hehad mounted, and she saith to him, "Now, Master Robin, I am going to sing thee a song. Wilt thou listen?" "With all my heart, " saith he. So he leaned on his elbow, stretched outlike a young panther along the limb o' th' tree, and looked down onher. Now, as I live, down went that jade on her knees in the grass, andshe lifts up her two pretty hands to him as though in prayer, and thussings she (I knew the song by heart): "'Listen, Robin, while I woo. This world's stale with repetition: I'll not do as others do; Haste thee, love, to my tuition. Robin, I'll make love to you, As men to other maidens do. "'Oh, what eyes my Robin hath! April fields own no such blue; In the luscious aftermath There's no flower so fair to view. Robin, Robin, hear me woo. All my soul's in love with you! "'Robin, will you marry me?-- Thus upon my knees I sue: O' my word I'll harry thee Like as men their sweethearts do. Robin, as I live I'm true: Will you wed me, Robin?--Will you?'" Now, what chanced thereupon I think thou wilt agree with me, comrade, insaying it did but serve her right. Down falls he like a ripe pomewaterat her side, and takes her about the waist, and sets his mouth to hers(all in a twink, comrade; thou hadst not time to shape thy mouth for awhistle ere 'twas all done, or verily my mouth had given forth somethingbesides whistling), and saith he, "That will I, lass; an' if thou be not my wife ere that snail-coming newmoon doth thrust out her horns, my name is not Hacket, nor will thinebe!" Now, comrade, though it doth shame me verily so to speak o' mine ownflesh, I saw by her pretending to push him away that she did mightilyrelish his kisses; for, by my troth! had she sought to scuffle with him'twould 'a' been as snug an encounter as when day and night wrestle forthe last bit o' a June sky. And she saith to him, feigning to scowl, "How now, thou rapscallion!dost thou dare?" "Ay, ay, " quoth he, "in verity I do!" quoth he. And in verity a did, too. But just as I was consulting with the Lord how to act, He having hadeven a greater experience with wayward children than myself (may Hepardon me if I be too free with His holy name!)--just, I say, as I wasasking Him to show me in what wise to proceed, up goes her hand, and shegives him a sound cuff o' th' ear (young Hacket's ear--not the Lord's;may He pardon me if so it sounded), and she saith, "Take that for striving to make a fool out o' an honest girl! I know thygoings on with Ruth Visor, " saith she. "Thou'lt ne'er blind me with thypretty speecheries. " And a was o'er th' palings and out o' sight like awind-blown leaf. Then did young Hacket come to th' fence and lean upon it with both hisarms, and support his chin with a thumb on either side o't, and saithhe, "Methinks she'd 'a' made a better warrior than a wife, " saith he; "butwhen she hath ta'en off the edge o' her warlike spirit in fighting forher freedom, " saith he, "why, then, " saith he, "I'll marry her!" Sosaith he--every word o't. By my troth, comrade, an I had not had so muchthe advantage by having my nippers in my hand, I would 'a' thrashed himthen and there. But, "fair play" being my motto, and having my nippers, as I saith, I forbore; yea, I forbore, and walked away unseen of him. And, o' my word, I was much angered with myself for not being more angrywith th' wench. "For, " saith I, out loud, that I might be impressed by the sound as wellas by the knowledge o' th' fact--"for, " saith I, a-hammering away on ashoe for Joe Pebbles's brown nag King Edward (though I had oftenreasoned with Joe on account o' th' name, first because o' itsirreverence, second on account o' th' horse not being that kind o' ahorse, as 'twas a mare)--"for, " saith I, as I made th' shoe, saith I, "'tis sure a great wickedness to steal a lass's sweetheart away fromher!" saith I. And so 'twas; but, for all I could do, I could not feelangered with the hussy. But that day when she did fetch me my dinner, being finished, I did pulldown th' sleeves o' my shirt, and wiped off my leathern apron, and quothI to her, "Lass, come here and sit upon my knee. " So she comes right willingly, being fond o' me to an extent that did oftseem to astony the mother that bore her (seeing that _she_ was fond o'naught save her own way); she comes, and she perches upon my knee (assometimes thou shalt see a hawk rest wings on a bull's back), and shekittles my throat with her long brown fingers, and hugs me about theneck (the jade! a knew I was for scolding her), and saith she, "Well, father, here be I. " Methinks I can hear her say it now, as soft as anylittle toddler come for a kiss. "Here be I, " she saith; and with thatshe fills all my face with her curls (the jade! a saw that in my eyewhich a did not care to face). "Here be I, " saith she. "Ay, " saith I, speaking in a gruff voice; "and now that here thou be, "saith I, "I'll tell thee what I want of thee. " "Thou canst want naught that I will not do, " saith she. (The jade! a hada way with her to 'a' made Bess herself yearn for matrimony. ) But I wasstanch; I was stanch, comrade. Saith I, "Methinks thy mother was right to speak to thee as yesternight she did, "saith I; "for I saw thee strive to graft a pear-tree with a branch o'th' tree o' knowledge, " saith I. "Then, " saith she, hot as my forge all in a breath, and bouncing from myknee--"then thou wast an eavesdropper!" saith she. "Even as the Lord afore me, " saith I, not over-pleased at her sauciness. "And being in some sort thy Creator, and thou having set up for thyselfan Eden in my garden, " saith I, "who hath a greater right than I towatch over thee?" saith I. Then she not answering me, thus did I continue: "Why dost thou not take unto thyself an husband, " quoth I, "to do boththyself and thy parents a credit?" "Show me such an one, " saith she, "and I do promise thee to wed him. " "There, then, " quoth I, "is Davy Short hose, the poulterer--" "A bangled-eared buffoon as ever lived!" quoth she; "and a fool into thebargain. " "So be it, " saith I; for I was set upon keeping my temper. "What dostthou say to Beryamen Piggin, the brewer?" "A say if ever a piggin was in sore need o' a new link, 'tis that one, "saith she. "And, what's more, I'll not serve for 't, " saith she. "How, then, of Nanfan Speckle, the tanner?" "A's as pied as a's name, " quoth she, "both soul and body. " "There be Jezreel Spittlewig, the joiner. " "Methinks, " quoth she, "if a'd do a little joining to a's own shacklingbody, a might hold together long enough to go through the marriageceremony, " saith she. "Howbeit, I'm not a-sure of 't. " "Well, then, Jack Stirthepot, the chair-mender. " "A'd have to stir th' pot with a witch ere a brewed a wedding with me, "quoth she. "What sayest to Reuben Puff, the tinker?" "If I say so much as a word to any one o' em, " cried she, snatching upthe pail wherein she had brought my victuals, "may thy first grandchildbe born without a tongue!" saith she. And out she went. Then quoth I to myself, quoth I, "Lemon, " quoth I, "the jade's in lovewith th' crack--no more, no less. " And I said further, said I, "Bodykins!" said I, a-shoeing of King Edward with all my might, "by cockand pye!" said I, "an a wants him let a have him. 'Tis more than hisdessert, I'll warrant, " so quoth I. "And as for Dame Visor's hussy, lether learn to bridle her tongue, " quoth I. And 'twas just here that wenchKeren did creep up and take me about the neck, as I was a-filing of KingEdward's hoof. "Father, " saith she, "I cry thee pardon if I have sauced thee; but dostnot mind the rhyme thou art so fond of?-- "'Shoe the horse, and shoe the mare, But let the little colt go bare. ' Seek not to chide me, father, and ne'er will my heels bring hurt toany. " Then off was she again ere I had spat forth my mouthful o' nails toanswer her. But that evening as I came home, about the going down o' th' sun, I didhear voices i' th' kitchen, and, looking in at th' window, behold, therewas that hussy Ruth a-plucking of Keren by th' kirtle, and Kerena-holding of a pan o' milk above her head, as though she had half a mindto souse her cousin in 't. And saith she, "Get to thy feet, wench. This is neither a church, nor amI th' Lord. " But th' girl (who seemed to be in trouble o' some sort) fell a-sobbing, and saith she, "Cousin, cousin, I know I have used thee ill, but all my joy is in him. If thou takest him from me, better didst thou take my life, for he ismore to me than life. " Then quoth my lass, "Shame on thee to say it o' any man, worthy orunworthy!" "Oh, shame enough have I, cousin!" quoth the poor wench--"shame to 'a'lost him, and shame that I should plead with another to give him back tome!" "Go to!" saith Keren; "go to! I have not got him to give him back tothee. " "Thou hast!" saith Ruth; "thou hast!--he is thine, soul and body--souland body! And thou dost not care; and I care--oh, I care so that I knownot how to word it!" (Every word that passed between 'em is as clear in my mind as though'twere but yesterday it all happened. ) "I say shame on thee to say so, " saith my lass again. But the wench still hung about her, and would not let go, and she saith, "Oh, cousin, cousin, cousin, doth it not show thee in what straits I am, that I come to thee for succor? Rather had I died, one week agone, thanask thee for thy hand though I were drowning. And sure 'tis less thanthy hand for which I ask thee now, sith it be for a man who is less tothee than the littlest finger on that hand, but who is more to me thanthe heart in my wretched body! And a had vowed to wed me; and 'twas nextmonth we were to be wed; and all so happy--my father and my mother sopleased, and his folks do like me well; and my wedding-gown all sewn andlain away, and the ribbons for my shoes, and some kickshaws for th' newhouse; and all we so glad, and all going so smooth, and we twain soloving; for, oh, he did love me the once! he did love me the once! Andnow--now--now--" And here did she fall a-weeping in such wise that neveranother word could she say. And she sate down on the kitchen floor, andhid all her pretty head (for pretty 'twas, though I liked her not)--hidit all in the skirt o' her kirtle. Then stood my lass quite still, and her face like the milk in her pan, and she looks down on th' hussy, as a horse might look down on a kittenwhich it hath unwitting trampled on, and she saith, "I would I knew whether or no thou speakest the truth!" Then saith the wench, a-reaching up her clasped hands to heaven--saithshe, "May God forever curse me an I do not!" "Take not God's name in vain, " saith my lass, sharply, and went and setdown her pan o' milk on the cupboard. And again she stands, slowlywiping her hands on her apron, and looking down at th' girl, who hathonce more covered all her face in her petticoat; and by-and-by she saithto her, "What is 't thou wouldst have me do?" "Give me back my Robin! give me back my Robin!" saith the maid. "Thou art welcome to him for me, " saith Keren. Then fell the maid a-weeping more bitterly than ever, and she huddledherself on the hard floor, like a young bird that hath fallen out o' itsnest, and sobbed piteously. And presently gets she to her feet without aword, still a-hiding of her face in her kirtle, and turns to go, a-feeling her way with one o' her little hands. But when she hathreached th' door, and hath got one foot on the threshold, up stridesthat lass o' mine, and, taking her by the arm, swings her back into th'room; and she makes her sit down on a settle and take down her kirtlefrom her face. And while she is snooding up her ruffled locks, she saithunto her, "Thou art a little fool to cry so; dost hear? What! at it again? Well, well, God patience me! What's a body to do with such a little ninny?There! dry your eyes. Ye shall have your Robin, never fear. God-a-mercy!at what art blubbering now?" But down slipped Ruth on her knees, andcaught Keren about hers, and she saith unto her, "Heaven bless thee! thou art a good woman! May Heaven forgive me for allsuch words as e'er I have said against thee! Bless thee! bless thee!" "Bodykins!" saith my lass (having learned some round oaths from me, I dogrieve to say)--"bodykins!" saith she, "wilt a-hear th' lass? I sayscamper, scamper; my father'll be coming home to sup erelong, and Iwould not he found thee thus. Away with thee! and fret no more: dosthear? If I hear that thou hast moped any further from this hour on, I'llnot answer either for my doings or for those o' others: dost hear? Nowscamper!" And scamper a did, like a hare with th' hounds upon 't. So full was I o' praising my lass on her good 'havior that I had got mefrom th' lattice and was half in at the door ere I saw what hadbefallen. There was my madcap comrade, down on her knees afore the settle, wi'both hands gripped in her thick locks, and her head bent forward on th'wooden seat; and she made no sound, neither uttered she any word, but ashook like water when a heavy weight rolls past. And a drew long breathsever and anon, like one that hath been half drowned and is coming backto life. And I knew then, I knew then, comrade. I had thought a lovedth' boy; and I knew then. So I got me out, without making any clatter, and I sat me down on a bench outside th' kitchen door to think 't over;and, by cock and pye, man, ne'er a thought could I think for th' tearsin my eyes. Th' poor lass! th' poor lass! It fetches th' salt into myeen now to think on 't. Well, well, what's past is past, and God himselfcannot undo 't; and what's coming's coming, and God wunnot hinder it anhe could; so there's an end on 't. Fill up, man, fill up! What there, Isay! Joel, I say! A quart o' sack for Master Turnip. Well, when I had thought it well o'er, I did determine to say naught toth' lass whatsoever; neither did I; but meseems I was bound to o'erhearheart-breaking words atween somebody, for th' very next day, as I washenting th' style as leads into th' lane (thou knowest the lane I mean, comrade: 't lies atween Cowslip Meadow and th' pool i' th'hollow--Sweethearts' Way, they call 't)--well, as I was getting o'er th'style--as I had just got me o'er by one leg, after this fashion, yemind; as though this chair here were th' style, and yonder chimney-placeth' lane--Sweethearts' Way, ye mind--well, as I was half over, andMumble, th' turnspit pup, half under, as 'twere, I heard voices--voices, comrade--one o' them th' voice o' that lass o' mine, and t'other th'voice o' young Hacket. "Here be a coil, " say I. "What's to do?" Now the pup seemed to be filled with the spirit o' th' Lord all on asudden, after th' fashion o' th' talking jackass i' th' Scriptures; forif a didna talk a did th' next thing to 't--a tried to. And afterpulling at my heels like as though a fiend had got him, a scuttles intoth' thicket, for no cause, as I could see, but to give me th' benefito' example. So in goes I after him. Scarce was I settled, with abramble down th' back o' my neck, and some honey-bees at work too nighto my legs for my peace o' mind, when they come, and both a-chatteringat th' same time like two magpies with slit tongues. "Thou didst!" quoth he. "That did I not!" quoth she. "Thou didst, and Ican prove 't on thee!" quoth he, louder than afore. "I tell thee I didnot, and thou canst sooner prove that Bidford Mill turns the Avon thanthat I did!" quoth she. "Wilt thou stand there and tell me i' th' eyesthat thou hast so oft looked love into, " quoth he, like a man chokedwith spleen--"I say, wilt thou, Keren Lemon, stand there and face me, Robert Hacket, and say thou hast ne'er given me reason to believe thatthou didst love me?" quoth he. "No more cause than I've given to twentybetter than thee!" quoth she. "Shame on thee to say 't, thou bold-facedjig!" saith he; "shame on thee, I say! and so will say all honest folkwhen I tell 'em o' 't. " "An thou tell it, the more fool thou, " saithshe; and a draws up her red lips into a circle as though a'd had adrawstring in 'em, and a stands and looks at him as a used to stand andlook at her dam when she chid her for a romp. Then all on a sudden, withsuch a nimbleness as took away my breath and drove all thoughts o'brambles and honey-bees clean out o' my pate, he jumps aside o' her, andgets her about th' middle, as he did that day under th' pear-tree, andquoth he, "Lass, " quoth he, "dunnot break my heart! dunnot break th'heart that loves ye more than a' that's in the earth, or th' heavensabove, or th' waters below! Say ye love me, and ha' done with 't. " Then gives she up herself to him for one beat o' her own breaking heart, the poor madcap, and she leans on him with all her pretty self, asthough begging him to take her against her own will, and then a crybreaks from her, half human, and half like th' cry o' a hurt beast, andshe saith, "Shame on ye, shame on ye, to forsake th' lass ye ha' sworn to wed! Getthee back to her straightway, or ne'er look me i' th' face again!" Andshe leaps back from him, and points with her arm--as stiff and steady asth' tail o' a sportsman's dog--towards th' village, and she saith again, "Get thee back to her; get thee back to Ruth Visor, and wed with her erethis month be out o' the year!" Then lifts he his sullen head, and looks at her from under his browslike a smitten blood-hound. And he saith back o' his clamped teeth, likeas 'twere a dog gnarling in his throat, "curse ye for a false jade!"saith he; "Curse ye for as black-hearted a jade as e'er set an honestman on th' road to hell!" And he turned, and cleared th' style with onehand on 't, and went his ways. And th' lass stood and looked after him as still as though she wereturned into a pillar o' summat, after th' manner o' th' woman i' th'holy book, and both her hands grasping her breast. But anon there comesa trouble o'er her face, like as when a little wind doth run across agray pool at eventide, and her lips begin to tremble, like as thoughsome red flower a-growing on th' bank was shaken by 't, and her eyes allfull o' woe, like th' eyes o' some dumb thing as cannot word its sorrow;and all at once she falls upon her knees, and thence upon her foreheadon the ground, and afterwards to her whole length, with her strong handsgrasping th' flowers and grass on either side o' her, and tearing themup with th' crackling noise that a horse makes when 't grazes. But nosound escapes her, whether a sigh or a groan. Well, well, comrade, I crythee patience if I do stumble here a bit: I cannot think on 't nowwithout a tightness i' my throat, any more than a man can think o' th'day his first child was born to him without his heart leaping hot in 'sthroat like the flame to th' bellows. Well, well! Fill up, I say; fillup. Remember th' old days, when thou wast more ale-washed than th'bottle itself. Where be I i' th' narrative? Yea, yea, 'tis there--'tisthere; I mind me o't now. No sound 'scaped her, but presently she lifts herself up upon her kneesagain, with such heaviness as a horse overburdened doth get him to hisfeet, and she holds out both her arms i' th' direction where th' ladhath vanished, wi' th' grass and flowers yet fast in her clinched hands;and she saith twice, i' th' voice o' a woman in travail, "Never will he know, never will he know, " she saith; and then, "Oh, God!" she saith, a-lifting her hands again to her breast. "Summat'sbroke here, " she saith, full meek, like a body that's looked a many timeon pain--"summat's broke, summat's broke, " o'er and o'er again, asthough she would use herself to th' sound, as 'twere. Then all at oncedid a deep cry break from her. "God, O God, " she saith, "show me how tobear 't! My God, my God, show me how to bear 't. " And she got to herfeet, and sped down th' lane like one blind, running first into th'hawthorn bushes o' this side, then into th' quickset hedge o' th' other, and tearing out her loosened tresses on th' low-hanging branches o' th'pear-trees, so that I traced her by her hair i' th' twigs, like as thouwouldst trace any poor lost lamb by its wool on the brambles. Now, itdid almost break my own heart to say naught to her concerning all o't, but I knew that 'twould but grieve without comforting her; and ratherwould I 'a' had my old heart split in twain than bring one more acheinto her true breast. So naught say I. Never a word, comrade, from thentill now have I e'er said to her about that time. Well, for all 's fine talk, Master Hacket went no more to hell than doany other men that marry--an' less than some, seeing as how a did notmarry a scold, which (God forgive me, or her, or both o' us) I havedone. Yea, comrade, I will commemorate this our first meeting in eightyears by confessing to thee that my wife (in thy ear, comrade)--that mywife was a scold. Sometimes I do verily think as how women like MistressLemon be sent unto men to keep 'em from pondering too heavily concerningthe absence o' marriage in heaven. By cock and pye, man, as I live, I dohonestly believe that I would rather be a bachelor in hell, than thehusband o' Mistress Lemon in heaven! But to come back to th' lass. And, now that I think o' th' lass, comrade, I am not so sure that a scolding wife is not well paid for by aduteous daughter. Nay, I am sure o't. Methinks I would 'a' been wedtwice, and each time to a shrew, could I but 'a' had my Keren o' one o''em. Ay, even so, even so. Well, as I said--or as I meant to say--Master Hacket wedded th' Visorhussy within two weeks o' th' day whereon he and my Keren had 't sofierce i' Sweethearts' Way. And therein are two meanings: they fell out, as is the way with sweethearts, and they fell out i' th' lane so called. Well, well, let me crack a quart o' sack with thee, comrade, and a jokeat th' same time. A married Ruth Visor, and they went to Lunnon Town. And on th' night o'their wedding, as I sat by the fireside i' th' kitchen a-mending mytools (for 'twas on a Saturday night), and Keren abed, and MistressLemon a-peeling o' leather-jackets to make th' Sunday pie, "Wife, " saith I to her (a-mending my tools, as I ha' said), "wife, "quoth I, "would 'twere our lass were wed to-day!" "For why?" saith she. No more, no less. "For why?" saith I. "For the why I think a lass is happier wed to th'man she loves, " saith I. "'Tis not so I've found it, " quoth she, a-peeling of an apple so thatthou couldst 'a' put his whole coat back and not 'a' known 't had e'ercome off. Then quoth I, a-chuckling in my throat at having so snared her, "Rightglad am I to find out that thou lovest me!" quoth I. "If thou'st found out that, " quoth she, "thou'rt greater than Columbus, "quoth she, "for thou'st discovered something that never was, " quoth she. "Bodykins, woman!" saith I, a-losing of my temper--"then for what didstthou marry me?" "For a fool, " quoth she. "And I will say as I ha' got the full o' mybargain, " quoth she. Whereat so wroth was I that I said naught, knowing that if I did open mylips or move my hand 'twould be to curse her with th' one and cuff herwith t'other. By-and-by saith she, "And where, by'r lay'kin, wilt thou find a man goodenough in thy eyes for th' lass?" saith she. "Not on earth, " quoth I. "Neither in this land nor that other across thesea, " quoth I. "Ay, ay, " quoth she. "Very like thou wouldst have th' wench to wed withan angel, " quoth she; "to have all thy grandchildren roosting on a goldbar, and their dad a-teaching of 'em how to use their wings, " quoth she. "Or with one o' th' red men i' th' new country, to have them piebald redand white, like a cock-horse at Banbury Cross, " quoth she. And with thatup she gets, and flings the apple-parings into th' fire, and gets her tobed without more ado. Whereupon day doth again find me i' this verytavern. Well, well, a year had passed, and things were jogging very peacefullike, and Keren settled down as quiet as a plough-broken mare, when oneday as I sit i' th' kitchen, while th' lass mends my apron, there comesa fumbling at th' latch like as though a child made shift to open it. Then quoth I, "Belike 'tis little Marjory Pebble, or one o' the Mouldylads over th' way;" for the babes all loved Keren, and, now that she waswaxed so quiet, th' lads left her more to herself, and she would sit onth' bench by the cottage door and make little kickshaws by th'hour--elder-wood whistles, and dolls o' forked radishes, and what not. So quoth I, "Belike 'tis little Marjory Pebble, " quoth I, and th' lasshaving her lap full o' my apron, I went and opened th' door. And there, comrade, a-kneeling in th' grass outside, with her head all hid in herkirtle, as she had kneeled two years agone on t'other side o' that verydoor, was Mistress Ruth Hacket; and she was a-sobbing as though herheart would break. And while I stand staring, ere I could find a wordto my tongue, comes that lass o' mine and pushes me aside like as thoughI had been little Marjory Pebble--ha! ha! And down goes she on her kneesbeside th' lass, and gets an arm about her, and presses down her head, all hid as 'tis in her kirtle, against her breast, and she saith to her, "What troubles thee? Tell Keren, honey. So so! What troubles thee? TellKeren. " And from beneath her kirtle th' poor jade sobs out, "He's gone! he'sgone! he's gone! They've taken him to work on th' big seas--and ourchild not yet born--and me so ailing; and, oh! I want to die! I want todie!" Then saith that lass o' mine, saith she, "Father, do thou fetch some o'th' birch wine out o' th' cupboard and bring it to me in a cup;" and tothe girl she saith, "Come, then; come, then, " like as though she hadbeen coaxing some little spring lambkin to follow her unto its dam; andshe half pulls and half carries th' wench into th' house, and seats heron a low stool i' th' chimney-corner, and kneels down aside of her. Andwhen I be come with th' drink, she takes the cup out o' my hand, andmakes th' wench drink 't, holding it to her lips with one hand, whilewith the other she cossets her hair and cheek. And, by-and-by, seeingmyself forgotten, I do withdraw into the room beyond, and wait till I becalled, that th' lasses may have 't out together. Now, Ruth's folks were aye so poor that scarce could they keep clotheson their backs and food i' their bellies; and it hath some time occurredto me how that the Lord might 'a' given such as could not provide forthemselves a coat o' wool or o' hair that would 'a' covered theirbodies, after the manner of a sheep or goat--the righteous being clad i'th' first fashion, and the wicked after th' last. Well, well, I must on. I see thou art waxing restless, comrade. Not so?Well, drink, drink, then, that I may feel thou art well occupied whilethat my old tongue wags. So poor, then, were Ruth's folks that I said to myself, said I, "What i'th' name o' pity, " so saith I--"what i' th' name o' pity is to become o'the poor lass?" But I had scarce asked myself th' question when my lassanswers it for me. "Father, " saith she, a-coming and standing afore me, with the empty cupturning on her long fingers--"father, " saith she, keeping thosegold-colored eyes o' hers on mine (methinks they were coined o' th' samewedge as her heart o' gold)--"father, " saith she, just so, "consideringall things, " saith she, "I'm going to keep th' lass in my room till herchild be born, " so saith she. Then saith I, pulling her down into my arms, "Lass, " saith I, "verily doI believe that not only is every hair o' thy sweet head numbered, butthat each one is blessed with a separate blessing!" And what with mylove for her, and my admiring of her goodness, and my pride in her, andwhat with her pity for the poor girl in th' other room, we did shedenough tears between us to ha' o'erflowed th' empty cup in her hands. So she held me about th' neck with both arms, and like to ha' run me madwith kissing th' back o' my neck (for I was e'er one o' your ticklishsort). I stood it bravely, however, seeing how she loved me, and kissedher too whensoever I could get a chance for th' tightness o' herhugging. And so we settled it. But Mistress Lemon was yet to beconsulted. Ready enough was I to shift that job on my lass's broad shoulders(seeing as how a reputation for courage with his wife is ne'er believedo' a man, at any rate, and as how th' wench had a way o' managing hermother which sure none could 'a' had that were not of her own flesh). And that night, when her mother was returned from a round o' gossiping, th' lass tells her all (having i' th' mean time put Ruth to bed atweenher own sheets). Well, ne'er saw I my wife in such a rage. "What!" saith she, "thou hast ta'en it on thyself to offer my bread andmeat to a good-for-naught hussy as ne'er had a civil word for any o' us!Thou hast given her bed-room under my roof without so much as 'by yourleave!' Thou godless hussy, thou! Where be th' jade? I say, where beshe? Where be she?" "Where thou shalt not come at her in thy present humor, mother, " saiththe lass, standing with one arm reached out across the door-way, like asthough in verity she had been the mother and her dam a naughty child. "How? Dost word me? dost word me?" saith my wife. "How? dost take anystray cat to kitten in my house an' then word me too?"--so saith she. Then saith th' lass, "Well can I understand, " saith she, "how, if thoucanst speak i' this fashion o' thy sister's child, thou canst also speakto thy own as sure no mother e'er spoke ere this. " Then, changing allsuddenly her tone, and dropping down her arm from the door, "Go an thoulike, " saith she, "to abuse the poor creature who hath come to ask thyhelp in time o' trouble; but just so surely as thou dost turn her out o'door to lie i' th' straw like any common callet, just so sure do Ifollow her, to fare as she fares, and all the village shall know whatthou hast done. " Then for some minutes did they twain stand and gaze upon one another, and at last down flumps my wife into a chair, as though she would breakit in pieces for very rage; but being waxed sulky, and her own wrathcowed, as 'twere, by her daughter's more righteous wrath, she saithnothing more of 't, good or bad. In three weeks' time th' child is born, and as sound and as pretty ababe as e'er I clapt eyes on, and Keren a-dangling of him as natural asthough she herself had been a mother, time and again. "What say'st thou now, lass?" quoth she. "Wilt trust Keren after this?" "Is he sound, verily?" saith the poor little dame, looking shyly uponhim. "Never a spot so big as the splash on a guinea-flower!" saith Keren. "And ears like sea-shells. " So, after a-kissing of them both, and th' top o' th' babe's head (as'twas permitted me to do), I steals out and leaves them together. Well, ne'er saw thou a child grow as did that child. Meseemed hesprouted like corn after a rain; and in five months a was waxed sostrong a could stand on 's feet a-holding to his mother's kirtle. But, strange to say or not, as thou wilt have 't, he did seem to love Kerenmore than he did th' mother that bore him, a-crying for her did she butso much as turn her back, and not sleeping unless that she would croonhis lullabies to him. Mayhap it was because her strong arms and roundbosom made a more cosey nest for him than did th' breast and arms o' hislittle dam; but so was 't, and nearly all o' her time did th' lass giveto him. Neither did it seem to rouse aught o' jealousy in Ruth's heart:she was too busy a-looking for th' return o' 's father to bother herpretty pate o'ermuch concerning him. And she would sit and talk o'Robin, and o' Robin's goodness, and o' Robin's sweet ways and words anddoings, until I thought sometimes my poor lass's heart would just breakwithin her, if 't had not been broken already these two years. And oneday, as she kneels beside th' cradle--Ruth having gone to see her folksfor th' day--I come in unknown to her, and stand to watch th' prettysight. There kneels she, and Ruth's red shawl o'er her head to pleaseth' child (Keren ne'er had any bright colors o' her own thosedays)--there kneels she, I say, beside the cradle, and kittles him withher nimble fingers, and digs him i' th' ribs after a fashion that wouldsure 'a' run me crazy (though it hath ne'er yet been proven what a youngbabe cannot endure at the hands o' women), and punches and pokes andworries him, for all th' world like a kitten worrying a flower. And he, lying on his back, kicks with both feet at her face, and winds all hishands in her long hair, and laughs, and bubbles, and makes merry, afterthe fashion o' a spring stream among many stones. And by-and-by a changefalls o'er her, and she waxes very solemn, and sits down on th' floor byth' edge o' th' cradle, with one arm upon 't and her head on her hand, and she looks at the babe. In vain doth he clutch at her hair and at herkerchief, and reach, with pretty broken murmurings, as of water throughcrowding roots, after his little bare toes: never so much as a motionmakes she towards him. But at last up gets she to her knees, and takeshim fiercely into her strong hands, and holds him off at arm's-length, looking at him; and she saith in a deep voice (such as I had not heardher use for two years), saith she, "For that thou art not mine, " saithshe, "I hate thee; but--" and here came a change o'er all her face andvoice and manner, like as when April doth suddenly wake in the midst o'a wintry day in springtide--"but, " saith she, "for that thou art his, Ilove thee!" And she took him to her bosom, and bowed down her head overhim so that he was hidden all in her long hair; but the bright shawlcovered it, so that, what with her stooping and the hiding of hertresses, a body coming in suddenly at the door might 'a' easily mistakenher for Ruth. It was thus with th' man who at that moment strode past me and caught upchild and woman into his embrace. "I have come back to thee, " hesaid--"I have come back to thee. Look up, wife! Ruth, look up!" But whenshe did look up, and he saw her face as white as morning, and her hairas black as night, and her tall figure like to a young elm-tree--ay, when she looked up, ne'er saw I a man not dead seem so like death. Hedrops down his arms from about them, as though smitten from behind by asword, and he staggers and leans against th' table, and lets fall hishead upon his breast, staring straight in front o' him. But she standslooking upon him. And I got me out with all speed; so ne'er knew I moreo' what passed between 'em, saving that he did take away Ruth with himth' next day, and she as happy as a bird whose mate hath come back to 'twith the springtide. But a knew how that my lass had taken his wife intoher bed, and nursed her through her sickness night and day, after thehard words he had spoken unto her and the ill names he had called her. And that was all I cared to know. He had set th' iron in my lass'sheart, and now 'twas in his own; and for th' rust, it did but hurt himmore. Ay, ay, comrade, thou knowest what I do mean. Well, the winter passed, and spring came on again, and 'twas in the Mayo' that year that I did break my hammer-arm. God above us only knowswhat would 'a' befallen us had 't not been for my Keren. Wilt believe't? (but then I think thou'lt believe a'most anything o' that lass o'mine now--eh, comrade?)--th' lass did set to work, and in two weeks'time a was as good a farrier as was e'er her daddy afore her. Bodykins, man! thou shouldst 'a' seen her at it: clad from throat to feet she wasin a leathern apron, looking as like mine own as though th' mare's skinwhereof mine was fashioned had, as 'twere, foaled a smaller one for th'lass--ha! ha!--and her sleeves rolled up from her brown arms, and th'cords a-standing out on them like th' veins in a horse's shoulder. Andso would she stand, and work th' bellows at th' forge, until, what withth' red light from the fire on her face, and on her hair, and on herbare arms, I was minded o' th' angel that walked i' the fiery furnacewith th' men in holy writ. And when a pounded away at a shoe, and heryoung arm going like a flail--chink, chank--chink, chank--and th' whitespatters o' hot iron flying this way and that from th' anvil, meseemed'twas as though Dame Venus (for thou knowest how in th' masque twelveyear gone this Yuletide 'twas shown as how a great dame called Venus didwed wi' a farrier called Vulcan--I wot thou rememberest?)--as thoughDame Venus had taken away her hammer from her goodman Vulcan to do 'swork for him. By my troth, 'twas a sight to make a picture of--that'twas, comrade. Well, ne'er saw I such trouble as that arm gave me (and 't has ne'erbeen strong since). First 'twould not knit, and then when 't did 'twasall wrong, and had to be broken and set o'er again. But th' lass ne'ergave out once. Late and early, fair weather or foul, a was at th' forge;and a came to be known for as good a smith as there was in allWarwickshire. But, for that none had e'er heard tell o' a woman at suchwork, or for some other reason, they did come to call her, moreover, "The Farrier Lass o' Piping Pebworth. " One day, as we sat i' th' door o' th' shop, a-resting, and talkingtogether--after a way we had with us even when she was a littlelass--there rides up a young gallant, all dressed out in velvet andgalloon, and a feather in 's hat, and long curls hanging about hisshoulders. Oh ay, a was bonny enough to look upon. So a draws rein atth' door. And saith he, "Art thou th' Farrier Lass o' Piping Pebworth?" saith he. Saith she, arising to her feet, and standing with crossed arms like anyman--saith she, "Folks call me so, " saith she. "But my name is Keren Lemon. " "A sour name for so sweet a lass, " saith th' gallant. "Would thou hadst sweetened that old jest with some new wit!" quoth she. "Thou art sharp o' tongue, " saith he. "I shoe horses with my arms, not with my tongue, " saith she. "As I live, a witty jade!" quoth he. "Thou dost much amuse me, maiden. " "My wit was not fashioned any more for thy amusement than for theshoeing o' thy horse, " quoth she. "So, if thou dost not purpose to havehim shod, ride on!" saith she. Then saith he, to himself, as 'twere, "Verily, " saith he, "they shouldcall thee the _harrier_ lass, for thou hast run down and found mymanners when that old hounds have failed. " And to her he saith, "I dopurpose to have my horse shod, maiden; and I cry thee pardon for havinggiven thee offence. " "It is easier to give offence than pardon, " saith she. "Howbeit, thouart pardoned. Say no more. " Whereupon she sets to work and, taking th'horse's foot atween her knees, falls to filing his hoof in such wisethat I could not 'a' done better in her place, though the Queen shouldask me to sup afterwards at St. James's. But the stranger could not holdhis tongue; and when he saw her working th' bellows, and a-making of th'shoe, and th' way she swung th' great hammer, "By my troth, " saith he, "I would I could paint thee as Sally Mander to give to th' Queen, " saithhe. Then saith my lass, "I know not of any wench called Sally Mander, " saithshe, a-burning of th' horse's hoof with th' hot shoe; "but if sheconsorts familiarly with such as be above her, " so saith she, "methinks'tis as well for both o' us that I know her not, " saith she--every wordo't just as I tell thee. Then saith the gallant, clapping hand to thigh, so that it made such asound as when a young child is trounced, "By my troth, " saith he, "anthy brows be not worthy o' a coronet, ne'er saw I any that merited towear one. What wouldst thou if thou wert a lady, lass?" She saith, a-rolling up of her sleeves a little tighter, and looking upat him as he sate again upon his horse, "Meanest thou if I were the wifeo' a lord?" saith she. "Even so, " saith he, laughing. "Verily thou hast come at my meaning witha commendable quickness. Well, and if thou wert the wife o' a lord, whatwouldst thou do?" Then saith she, speaking very slowly, and crossing of her arms againupon her breast--saith she, "I would bring up such sons as were born to me to behave worthily o'their station in life, and not to forget their manhood by speaking withinsolence unto such honest maids as had never offered them affront. "Whereupon she did up with her kit o' tools, and pass by me into th'forge; and th' man rode on with a reddened visage. But it befell only two days later that a came again to th' forge, hishorse having cast another shoe. And again th' lass sets all to right for him, he keeping a civil tonguein 's head this time; and o' that we thought naught one way or th'other. But when a comes a third time, and yet a fourth and a fifth and asixth, "Father, " saith th' lass--"father, " saith she, "this must bestopt, " saith she. "Ay, verily, " saith I. "But how wilt do 't?" saith I. "I'll do 't, never fear, " saith she. And a did, comrade. Ha! ha! I'd trust that wench to make Satan keep toheel like any well-broke puppy. 'Twas in this way. The next time th'gallant comes riding up (that being th' seventh time in all, yemind)--well, the next time up comes riding he, and he saith to her, saith he, "I have come to ask thy service yet again, damsel, " saith he;"but Merrylegs hath cast another shoe. " Then saith th' lass--ha! ha!--every word as I tell thee, comrade--saithshe, "Methinks, my lord, if my work hold no better than that--methinks, "saith she, "'twere as well thou went for th' shoeing o' thy horse toTimothy Makeshift, as lives in Marigold Lane, " saith she. "For if itcome to th' ears o' others how that I will shoe a horse one day, and th'next how that he will cast th' shoe--if it so be known, " saith she, "nomore custom will I get to keep my father and mother in their old age. " Then doth he leap down from his horse, and he doffs his hat as thoughmy lass had been any fine lady; and quoth he, "Well and justly hast thou spoken; and I do stand confessed of my fault. But, maiden, thou wast not born unto th' life thou leadest; and here inthy presence I do ask thy father to bestow upon me thy hand. I am SirDagonet Balfour, of Balfour Hall; and if thou art willing I will makethee my lady. " Now, I was struck dumb as though my tongue had jumped forth o' my mouth, and never a blessed thing could I do saving stare, comrade. But thatlass o' mine--that lass o' mine, comrade--she stands and looks at him, and never so much as a glint o' red in her face. And saith she, "Mylord, " saith she, "if that thou meanest what thou hast said, thou hastforgotten thine estate and not remembered mine. Since God hath not mademe a lady, methinks it is not in the power o' one o' His creatures so todo. But I do thank thee for seeking to honor me, and wish thee joy whenthou shalt take in wedlock some highborn maiden. " Then saith he, "An I wed not thee, ne'er will I be wed. What! dost thouthink I can look on in patience and see a woman such as thou followingthe trade of a farrier?" Then saith she, "If Jesus Christ followed th' trade o' a carpenter, "saith she, "sure, " saith she, "Keren Lemon can follow th' trade o' afarrier, " saith she--every blessed word as I tell thee, comrade. And nomore would she have to do with him, but got her into th' forge and lefthim standing there. Well, thou might 'a' thought that was th' end o't. Not a bit--not a bit, comrade. Th' knight would be a-riding up at all times and in allweather, and somehow 't gets out i' th' village (though not through mylass, I warrant ye) as how he doth in verity seek to espouse my Keren. Well, o' all th' tirrits and to-do's as e'er you heard on! Methought when Mistress Lemon found out that th' girl had refused th'gallant's offer th' house would be a tighter fit for us three than itsshell for an unhatched chick. 'Twas worry, worry, worry, from morn tillnight, and from night till morn it was worry, worry, worry, till Iscarce knew whether 'twould be better to murder my wife and hang for 't, or leave her alone and live with her. "Th' hussy!" quoth she--"th' ungrateful hussy! a ought to be tossed in ablanket, " quoth she, "and thou along with her, thou jack-pudding, thouravelling!" quoth she. "If I be a jack-pudding, " saith I, "I ha' more descendants than mostsuch, " saith I. "Yea, " quoth she, "verily, " quoth she; "and all nine o' th' lads bejacks, " saith she, "and th' wench as very a pudding as e'er fell topieces for want o' being held together, " saith she. "Out on ye both!I'm done with ye!" "For that, God be praised!" saith I, and left ere she could answer. But one day as I sate i' th' kitchen, a-cosseting o' my lame arm asthough 't had been a babe, I hear a sound o' wheels and a clatter o'horses' hoofs; and, lo! there be a chariot pulled up afore the door, with four gray horses a-making play with their trappings, and acoachman, all wig and gilding, a-sitting on th' box. And ere a couldmove, out steps a fine dame, with her hair all in hillocks, as 'twere, and a paling o' lace round about her head, like as 't had been aflower-garden, and a farthingale to 'a' covered th' big malt-pot with aslittle to-do as a hen covers an egg. And up comes she to th' door, andher tire-woman a-holding of her robes, and two footmen going before, andin she comes--like as though Riches and Death had a' th' same right toenter a poor man's house without knocking. And saith she to me, saithshe, a-filling up o' the room with her finery, like a cuckoo rufflingout its feathers in another bird's nest, saith she, "Be this th' cottage o' Humfrey Lemon th' farrier?" saith she. "It be so; and I be he, " saith I. "And be thou th' father o' th' wench they call th' Farrier Lass o'Piping Pebworth?" saith she. "I be, an' proud o't, " say I, a-beginning to think that she might 'a'knocked at th' door, for all her greatness. "Where's th' lass?" saith she, as she might 'a' said "Where's my glove?" Then saith I, "Madam, " saith I, "most like she's gone about herbusiness, " saith I. "My good man, " saith she, after a fashion that did cause me to feelaught but good--"my good man, " saith she, "dost thou know to whom thouspeakest?" "Verily, " saith I, "thou art ahead o' me there, madam. " "Boor, " saith she, "I am the Lady o' Balfour Hall. " "An' so could my lass 'a' been, had she willed it, " saith I; but ere Icould further forget myself, in comes Keren by another door, and shesaith, "Father, do thou go out, and leave me to speak with this lady. " Then toth' dame she saith, "Your ladyship, " saith she, "I am Keren Lemon, thatbe called th' Farrier Lass. What wouldst thou with me?" Then I got me out o' th' room, but not out o' hearing distance; and thisis what followed: "I have heard, " saith th' dame, "these reports concerning my son SirDagonet and thee, and, to my sorrow, I find upon inquiry, " saith she, "that they be true. Moreover, though it doth shame me to the dust toconfess it, I have had an interview with my son Sir Dagonet, " so saithshe--every word o't as I tell thee--"and he is determined in hispurpose o' ruining his life and th' happiness o' his mother. Therefore Ihave come to thee, to ask that thou persistest in the course which thouhast begun, " saith she. "And here, " saith she, "is gold to hold thytongue concerning my visit unto thee. " And therewith she did count downten broad gold pieces upon th' kitchen table. "I must also ask thee, "then continued she, ere my lass could answer her, "to allow me to remainunder thy roof until my carriage be returned from th' other end o' thevillage, where it hath been sent with my tire-woman to purchase someribbon to tie my parrot to 's perch. " Never a word saith my lass, but she goes to th' door and opens it, andlifting up her voice, she halloos to a little ragged urchin who is atsome spot on th' other side o' th' street; and he being come as fast ashis little shanks would bring him, she bids him enter, and taking him upin her arms, she lifts him up so that a can reach th' gold on th'table, and saith she, "Thou'rt not o'er-clean to touch, my good little mouse, " saith she, "butthou'rt cleaner than that stuff thou seest. There, lad, that's for thee, if an thou'lt run to th' other end o' th' village and bid them return atonce with my lady Balfour's carriage, " so saith she. Then, th' ladhaving stuffed all 's doublet with th' gold, she sets him on 's feet, and off a scuttles on th' best-paid errand e'er chanced since th' worldbegan. And my lass, having courtesied to the thunder-stricken dame, getsher outside (where I go nigh to smothering her with kisses), and leavesher ladyship in possession o' th' kitchen. Well, comrade, right sure am I that thou dost think that was the end on't. Not a bit. Sir Dagonet did himself come to th' cottage th' very nextday to see th' lass, and they had many words together, and at last hedid accuse her o' false pride and proud humility. And saith he, "Wouldst thou make misery for the man who loves thee best of all theworld, merely to satisfy a notion o' thine own? Greatness and goodness, "saith he, "dwell in the heads and hearts o' mankind, not in their birthor purses. I do ask thee, with all respect, to be my wife, and I amprepared to face th' anger o' my mother and o' th' Queen. Ay, " saith he, his face gone red as a girl's, and comes nigh to her--"ay, maiden, "saith he, "I am even ready to seek th' new country with thee as my wife, and to leave title and lands and Queen and mother behind me. " Then saith she--and I had not seen tears in her eyes for many a day-- "My lord, " saith she, "well and nobly hast thou spoken, and with all mysoul do I honor thee for it, and I thank thee with all my heart andsoul. But, my lord, even were there not thy rank and position atweenus, there is atween us, " saith she, "which would hold us as far apart asthe sea doth hold this England which we live in and th' new country o'which thou didst speak. For, " saith she--and she speaks in a steadyvoice, howbeit 'tis very low, and she keeps her sun-like eyes onhis--"for, my lord, " saith she, "all the love that was mine to give hathbeen another man's these many years. " Then saith he never another word, but bends his knee and kisses her longbrown hand as though 't had been th' Queen's; and he gets him from th'cottage. Now, two more years were sped since that Ruth had left us, and sometimeswould we hear through friends o' th' little lad and 's mother andfather, and always was Ruth a-sending of pretty messages to Keren--herlove, and her thanks, and how happy she was, and th' boy so like hisfather--and more than I remember. A full year had th' lass been at work in my shop, and my arm no morefit to hammer than afore. So I looks about to get a lad to help her inher work, seeing as 'twere too much for one wench. And, Lord! th'trouble I had! Ten lads did I try, one right after th' other; and onewould be saucy, and another dull, and another would take 't into hispumpkin head to fall in love wi' th' lass; and all o' 'em lazy. But, God-a-mercy! how's a man to tell a lazy lad till he ha' triedhim?--unless it be old Butter. Ha! ha! I ha' just minded me o' th' wayhe used to treat th' lads that came to Amhurste to hire forunder-gardeners. He would stand with 's owlish old visage a-set on 'shoe-handle, for all th' world like a fantastic head carved out o' aturnip and set on a stick, and a would let th' lad go on with 's storyo' how Dame This commended him for that, and o' how Dame That commendedhim for this, and o' how a had worked under my lord So-and-So'shead-gardener and in my lady So-and-So's own hot-houses; and when a hadgot through, never a word would old Butter say, but a would just stepround behind th' lad, as solemn as a gravedigger on a cold day, and awould lift up th' tail o' 's doublet and look at th' seat o' 'sbreeches. And if they were fairly worn a would hire th' lad; but if anthey were much worn a would say, "No work dost thou get from me, mylad, " would a say, "thou sittest down too often to work for AnthonyButter"--so would a say--every word o't just as I ha' told thee. Ha! ha!And all the time as sober as a coroner inspecting a corse. Ha! ha! ha!Methinks I can see him now--th' old zany. Well, well, a was a good man, was Anthony Butter; and if a was a bitpuffed up with 's own importance, a's charity ne'er got in a likecondition that it did not bring forth some kind act. Well, th' months swung round, and 'twas nigh to Martlemas in that sameyear, and one day as I sat i' th' forge door, a-swearing roundly tomyself concerning my lame arm, and how that 'twould not mend, up comesgalloping a man, like one distraught, and a child on th' saddle aforehim, and a flings himself down with th' child in 's arms (making noshift whate'er to hold th' horse, which gallops on with th' reinsswinging), and a cries out, a-setting of th' child on my knee--a criesout, "For God's sake, help me! My child hath been bit by a mad dog! Help mein some way, for th' love of God!" And I saw that 'twas Robert Hacket that crouched and quivered at my kneelike a hurt hound, and th' child as like to him as one leaf on a tree isto th' other. But ere I could do or say aught, comes that lass o' mine, and ups with th' babe in her arms, and he roaring as lustily as anybull-calf with th' wound in 's little brown arm, and she sees where thebeast hath bitten him. Then sets she him down again on my lap, and runsand fetches a bar o' iron and heats it i' th' forge till 'tis white-hot, and all th' time th' poor father a-sobbing, and kissing of th' babe, andcalling on me to help him, like as though I were God Almighty. And whilehe was so doing, and the babe like to burst with weeping, and I gone madwith not knowing what to be at, comes that wench, comrade, and jerks upth' babe, and sets th' white-hot metal in 's soft flesh. Ay, comrade, a did, and a held it there till where th' dog's fangs hadbeen was burned as black as th' anvil. And then, when 'tis done, and th'babe again upon 's feet, and we two for praising and blessing o' her, down drops she all in a heap on th' floor atween us, like a hawk thathath been smitten in mid-heaven. Then 'twas, comrade, that th' babe wasleft to endure his pain as best he might; never thought more did 'sfather give him that day; but he runs and lifts th' lass in 's strongarms, and bears her out into th' fresh air, and he calls her his"dear, " and his "own, " and "his life, " and his "Keren, " till, had 't notbeen for my lass's coming back to life, I would 'a' struck him on th'mouth for a-speaking so unto her, and he th' husband o' another woman. But no sooner opes she her eyes than he hath both her hands hid in oneo' his, and close against his breast, and she lying back in 's arms asthough she were any chrisom child, and her big eyes wide on his, and hesaith to her, "Lass! lass!" saith he, "I ha' come to marry thee, an thou wilt haveme, " quoth he. "I ha' come to marry thee; and may God bless thee forsaving th' child!" Then did I understand; but she saith, with her great eyes notmoving--saith she--only one word--"Ruth?" saith she, even so, once, lowlike that--"Ruth?" "Ay, lass, I know, " he saith unto her. "I know, " he saith. "But all'swell with Ruth. Ruth is in heaven. " Then saith she, while a light leaps out o' her tearful eyes, like aswhen the sun doth shine suddenly through April rain--saith she, as shewere breathing her life into th' words, "Methinks I be there too. " And also did I understand her, how that she meant that to be lying inth' arms o' him she loved, after all those weary years, was like beingin heaven; but he questions her. "How, lass?" saith he. "Where dost thou think thou art? Thou art in thytrue love's arms, " saith he. "Ay, there is heaven, " she saith. And I stole away to get th' babe some kickshaws i' th' village, thatthey twain might be alone together. Well, well, all that was two year ago, comrade--two year ago; and nowthat lass o' mine hath a babe o' her own, and as valiant a rogue as everbellowed. Thou must come and sup with us to-night. Na, na, I'll take norefusal--dost hear? I will not. And a word o' persuasion i' thy ear, comrade: Mistress Lemon hath been dead this twelvemonth, comrade. Ah ha!Wilt a-come the now? That's well. And thou shalt hear that lass o' minetroll thee "Jog on, jog on, " and "Mistress mine, where art thouroaming?" and "Listen, Robin, while I woo. " Come, comrade, come. Butstay; let's crack another drink together ere we go. Joel! What there!Joel, I say! Another quart o' sack for Master Turnip! NURSE CRUMPET TELLS THE STORY. _Time. _--A bitter January night in the year of Grace 1669. _Scene. _--Sunderidge Castle--The great hall--A monstrous fire burning in the big fireplace--Nurse Crumpet discovered seated on a settle--At her either knee lean the little Lady Dorothy and her brother, the young Earl of Sunderidge, Lord Humphrey Lennox. _Nurse Crumpet. _--Nay, now, Lady Dorothy, why wilt thou be at the painso' such a clamoring? Sure thou hast heard that old tale o'er a hundredtimes; and thou too, my lord? Fie, then! Wouldst seek to flatter thy oldnurse with this seeming eagerness? Go to! I say thou canst not in truthwant to hear me drone o'er that ancient narrative. Well, then, an Imust, I must. Soft! Hold my fan betwixt thy dainty cheeks and theblaze, sweetheart, lest the fire-fiend witch thy roses into very poppyflowers. And thou, my lord, come closer to my side, lest the draughtfrom the bay-window smite thee that thou howlest o' th' morrow with acrick i' thy neck. Well, well, be patient. All in time, in time. Soft, now! Ye both mind that I was but a little lass when thy grandmother, theLady Elizabeth Lennox, did take me to train as her maid-in-waiting. Iwas just turned sixteen that Martlemas, and not a fair-sized wench formy years either. Would ye believe? I could set my two thumbs together atmy backbone in those days, and my ring-fingers would all but kiss too. _Lord Humphrey. _--Ha! ha! Nurse, thy fingers would be but ill satisfiedlovers under those conditions nowadays. Eh, Dolly? _Lady Dorothy. _--Hold thy tongue for an unmannerly lad, Humphrey. Do notthou heed him, nurse, but go on with thy story. _Nurse Crumpet. _--For all thy laughter, my lord, I'd a waist my garterwould bind in those days, and was as light on my toes as those flamesthat dance i' th' chimney. Lord! Lord! how well I mind me o' th' firsttime that e'er I clapt eyes on Jock Crumpet! I was speeding home with ajug o' water from the spring, and what with his staring as he stood atthe road-side to let me pass, and what with a root i' th' way, I all butlost my footing. Yet did I swing round alone, holding fast my jug, andne'er one blessed drop o' water spilled I, for all my tripping. "By'rlay'kin!" quoth he, "thou'rt as light on thy feet as a May wind, and asI live I will dance the Barley Break with thee this harvesting or I willdance with none!" And i' faith a was as good as his word, for by hook orby crook, and much scheming and planning, and bringing o' gewgaws to mymother, and a present o' a fine yearling to my father, that harvestingdid I dance the Barley Break with Jock Crumpet. And a was a feather-manin a round reel. Well, 'twas the year o' my meeting with Jock, thou mindst. (And a coldwinter that was--Christ save us! There be ne'er such winters nowadays. This night is as a summer noon i' th' comparison. ) 'Twas the year o' myfirst meeting with Jock, and my lady, your grandmother, sent for me tothe castle, to be her waiting-maid. Lord! 'twas a troublous time! Whatwith joy at my good fortune, and sorrow at quitting my mother, I wasfain to smile with one corner o' my mouth and look grievously with theother, like a zany at a village fair. And Jock, he would not that Iwent, for that he could not see me, or consort wi' me so often: Jock wasaye honey-combed wi' th' thing ye call "sentiment. " A would grin on aflower I had wov'n in my locks by th' hour together. And 'tis my beliefa could a spun him a warm doublet out o' the odds and ends o' ribbon andwhat not he had filched from me when my eyes were elsewhere. AndJock--but 'tis neither here nor there o' Jock. In those days thygrandmother had only one child, a little lass, the Lady Patience. Andne'er was man or maid worse named; for to call such a flibbertigibbet"Patience" were as though one should name a frisksome colt "Slumber, " orchristen a spring brook "Quiet. " Patience, quotha! 'Twas patience intruth a body had need of, who was thrown at all with her littleladyship. But there was ne'er so beautiful a maiden born in all thebroad land of England; nor will be again--not though London Tower bestanding when the last trump sounds. Meseemed she was an elf-sprite, sotiny was she; and her face like a fair flower, so fresh and pure. Herhair was shed about her face like sunlight on thistle-down, and her eyesmade a shining behind it, like the big blue gems in her mother'sjewel-box. When she laughed, it was as water falling into water from ashort height, with ripples, and little murmurs, and a clear tinklingsound. But she was ne'er more at rest than the leaves on an aspen-tree. Hither and thither would she flit, this way and that, up and down, roundand round, backward and forward, about and about. I' faith, ofttimeswould I be right dizzy come nightfall, with following of her; for ere Ihad been at the castle a day, she took so mighty a fancy to me, thatnaught would do but she must have me for her maid; and so my lady, who(God pardon my boldness!) did utterly spoil her in all things, gave meunto her as a nurse-maid. --But sure ye are a-weary o' this old tale! _Lady Dorothy and Lord Humphrey in a breath. _--Nay, go on, go on. _Nurse Crumpet. _--Well, well, o' all the story-loving bairns! But I mustinvent me a new history for the next time o' telling. _Lord Humphrey. _--Nay, that thou shalt not. We will ne'er like any aswell as we like this one. So despatch. _Nurse Crumpet. _--But my lady had also an adopted daughter, a niece o'my lord's--one Mistress Marian Every--and she walked beside the littleLady Patience as night might walk beside day, for she was as brown o'skin as a mountain stream, and her hair like a cloud at even-tide, dark, but of no certain color, albeit as soft as ravelled silk, and marvelloushard to comb on account o' its fineness. Mistress Marian was full headand shoulders taller than her cousin, the Lady Patience, and she couldlift her aloft in her arms, and swing her from side to side, as a supplebough swings a bird. And her eyes were dark, and cool to gaze into, likea pool o' clear water o'er autumn leaves, and sometimes there wereglints o' light in them, like the spikes i' th' evening-star when thoudost gaze steadily upon it. Black and white were not more different thanwere they, and they resembled even less in mind than they did in body. When Lady Patience waxed wroth, her cheeks burned like two coals, andthou couldst hear her little teeth grinding together, like pebblessqueezed i' th' palm o' thy hand; but when Mistress Marian wasan-angered, the blood rushed back to her heart, and she was whiter thana lamb at the shearing, and her lips like white threads. Then would thelight shoot and spin in her eyes, and her nostrils suck in and out, likethose of a fretful horse. And she was fierce after the manner of a manrather than of a maid. Moreo'er, she was full a year younger than theLady Patience; but she looked it not; rather did her ladyship look fulltwo years younger than Mistress Marian. And I loved them both, and triedas a Christian not to prefer one before the other; but what with mylady's stealings of her arms about my neck as I sat at my stitchery, andpopping of comfits in my pocket when I would be otherwise engaged, andteasings, and ticklings, and sundry other pretty witcheries which I donot at this day recall, I was fairly cozened into loving her the best. (Honey, I charge thee hold my fan betwixt thee and the fire. ) But tocontinue. --Mistress Marian was aye courteous and kindly to me as heartcould wish, and every night did she thank me i' th' prettiest fashion, when I had combed and unpinned her for the night; but, Lord! I had muchado to get Lady Patience combed or unpinned at all! First would she jumpwith both knees upon mine, and hug my very breath away; then, when I hadat last coaxed her to get down, first she would perch on one leg andthen o' the other, and then be a-twisting her head now over thisshoulder, now over that, to see how I came on with the unpinning, thatit was with a prayer to God that I finally set her night-gown over hershoulders, and led her to bed. As for her prayers--Jesu aid me andpardon her!--'twas a matter of hours to get her to say "Our Father"straight through, what with her vowing that she wished not bread everyday, and how that if his lordship her father forgave not trespassers(for I could ne'er draw the difference between trespass_es_ andtrespass_ers_ into her pretty pate), neither would she; and how she didnot believe God would lead her into temptation at any time, but that itwas the Devil; and how it must anger God even to think of such doings onHis part--what, I say, with all this, methought sometimes it would becock-crow ere I got her safely to sleep. And all this time MistressMarian would be lying as quiet as any mouse, with her big plait of hairbetween her fingers, for so she always slept, with her hair fast in herhands, as though she loved its beauty; and in truth it was the one greatbeauty she had, for my little lady put her out with her glitter as thesunlight doth extinguish a morning moon. Now I had been at the castle scarce two months when one day it chancesthat I hear my lady a-telling o' my lord how as her brother, LordCharles Radnor, dying wifeless, had left his only son to her care untilhe should come of age. And on that Tuesday the little lord set foot inthe castle; and my lady was down at the door-way to meet him, in a newvelvet gown, with her wimple sewn in fine pearls, and my lord with her;but my two nurslings waxed shy at the last minute, and would not comedown, but leaned and peered through the posts o' the stair-rail, and mylittle lady let fall one o' her shoes in her eagerness to glimpse at hernew cousin. And straightway ran the lad and lifted the wee shoe, andlooked upward, laughing, and my lord and lady having retired into thedining-hall, to see that some cold viands were in readiness (it beingthen near to nightfall, though not yet supper hour). --"Ho! thou littlecinder witch, " cried he; "I am the prince that has found thy shoe, andwhen I shall have found thee, if that thy temper be as small as thyshoe, fear not but that I will kiss thee too!" With that, he ran up thestair-way, two and three steps at a leap. And I followed, for I knew not what would happen an he claimed his kissas he had threatened (knowing as did I, that in verity my lady's shoewould a been a tight fit for her temper). But when he was arrived at the top, lo! they had both fled, neither hadthey left so much as a ribbon behind them. Then the lad laughed again, as pleasant a laugh as e'er I heard in all my days, and quoth he, "Iwould be but a poor prince an I had not to search for my littleprincess. " So off he starts, and I after him, up and down corridors, inat half-open doors, out upon balconies, hither and thither, after themanner o' my little lady on her most unquiet days, till at last, for thesake o' peace, I did slyly lead him in the direction o' the greatnursery. There, catching sight o' a little red petticoat, he enters, where stand my truant elves confessed, Mistress Marian frowning andbiting o' her dark hair, but my little lady like to stifle, with bothhands over her mouth to hide her smiles, and her blue eyes dancing avery Barley Break o' mirth among the yellow sheaves o' her tresses. Then there was much parley o'er the fitting o' the shoe, as both damselsdid straightway sit down upon their feet, neither for a long time wouldthey move an eyelash, till his lordship, with a twink o' his eye at me, did suggest corns and bunions as a reason for their 'havior--and, Lord!then 'twas pretty to mark how like little chicks beneath their dam'sfeathers, first one little foot and then the other did steal out fromthe rich lace o' their petticoats. And ere one could cry "Oh!" for apinch, he had slipt the shoe on my little lady's wee foot, and hadkissed her right heartily. Moreo'er, what I did most marvel at, was thatshe neither cuffed nor sought to cuff him, but dropt down her head untilher hair made a veil before her face, and moved that foot whereon he hadset her shoe, gently back and forth as though the leather was stiff toher ankle, and I saw that she looked at it from under her heavy hair. But Mistress Marian still held aloof, and chewed upon her dark lockslike a heifer on its cud. And her eyes were every whit as dark andsolemn as a very cow's. Then the young lord laughed again, and criedout, "Ha! the ox-eyed June!" or some such apery, and went and kneeledbefore her in mock fashion, as before a queen, and quoth he, "Fairgoddess" (for 'twas afterwards explained to me what manner of being wasa goddess, namely, some kind of a foreign fairy)--"Fair goddess, " quothhe, "show me how I may dispel thy wrath. " And still she scowled on him, but spoke no word. And he continued, and said, "I prithee, fair lady, cast but one smile upon thy humble knight" (thou mind'st their prettyfoolery has stuck i' my old pate unto this day). Then she answered and saith, "Thou silly lad, how can I be a goddess anda lady both in one? Thou hast not even enough wit to make a good fool. So!" (for Mistress Marian had a sharp tongue at times). But he was not so much as ruffled, and laughed even again, mostheartily. And he said, "I do perceive that thou art not fashioned eitheras goddess or lady, therefore be my comrade, and we will fight togetherfor the weal o' yon fairy princess. " All at once she laughed too, andyielded him her hand, and said, "I like thee. What is thy name?" He said, "My name is Ernle; and I like thee too; therefore, I pray thee, tell me thine. " So she told him, and my little lady sidling up, the three fell presentlya-chattering like linnets at sunrise, and from that hour on I had notrouble with them. 'Twas pretty to mark them at their fantasies. They were aye out-o'-doorsave when 'twas rainy weather, and then methought the castle had scarceroom enough for them. In all their games Mistress Marian was the littlelord's comrade, and wore a helmet o' silvered wood, and carried a woodensword silvered to match her head-gear, and the little lord was likewiseapparelled. And he called her ever "Comrade, " and clapped her o' th'shoulder, as mankind will clap one the other when conversing. But my little lady, they both agreed, was a fairy princess; and, Lord, Lord! 'twould take me from now 'til Martlemas next to name the perilous'scapes that did befall her. They fished her out of moats, they bore herfrom blazing castles, they did drag her from the maws o' dragons andother wild beasts I know not how to name. Thrice was the little Lord ofRadnor in dire straits at the claws o' goblin creatures. Three timesdid his comrade rescue him by thwacking upon the chair which didrepresent the dreadful beast, till I was in sore dread there would be nomending of it, and me, mayhap, dismissed from the castle forcarelessness. And always when 'twas all o'er, and the little princess insafety, I was called upon to act parson and wed my little lady to thelittle lord, while Mistress Marian leaned on her sword to witness thedoings. One day, in their rovings through the park, they came by chance upon adoor in the hill-side, but so o'ergrown with creeping vines that, hadnot the little lord stumbled upon it, 'twas very like it had been thereto this day without discovery. Well, no sooner do they see the door thanthey must needs open it, spite o' all my scolding, and peer within. 'Twas but a darksome hole, after all--a kind o' cave i' th' hill-side, which they did afterwards find out from thy grandfather was used in daysgone by for concealing treasures in time of war. And indeed it seemed asafe place, for there were two rusty bolts as big as my arm, one o' th'inside and one o' th' outside, and the creeping things hid all. As thoumightst think, it grew to be their favorite coigne for playing theirdragon and princess trickeries. I would sit with my stitchery on afallen log in the sunshine, while they ran in and out o' th' grewsomehole. But in all their frolicking my little lady could ne'er abide thesight o' their swords, and she pleaded ever for gentler games. One day(I shall ne'er forget, though I live to see doomsday) they did crown hera queen, and then my lord would have it that she dubbed him her knight. She pleaded that prettily against it methought the veriest boor inChristendom would a given in to her, but my little lord was stanch. Sothey made her a throne o' flowers, and when she was seated thereon, Mistress Marian handed her the great wooden sword, and my lord, kneeling, bade her strike him on the shoulder with the flat side o' th'sword, saying, "Rise, Sir Ernle, my knight for evermore!" She got out the words as he bade her, but when 't came to the stroke, what with her natural fright, and what with the sunlight on the silver, she brought down the heavy blade edgewise on the boy's pate, laying widequite a gash above his left eyebrow, so that the blood trickled down hischeek. When she saw that, meseemed all the blood in her body went tokeep his company, for she turned whiter than her smock, and ran and gother arm about him and saith, o'er and o'er again, "Ernle! Ernle! I havekilled thee!" He laughed, to comfort her, and made light of it, and wetting his fingerin the blood, drew a cross on his brow and said, "Nay, thou hast notkilled me. And moreo'er, I am not only thy knight, but thy Red CrossKnight into the bargain, and thou my lady forever. See! I will seal theewith my very blood!" and ere she could draw back, he had set also across on her white brow. She shuddered and fell a-weeping, and drew herhand across her brow to wipe away the ugly stain; and when she saw thatshe had but smeared it on her hand, she trembled more than ever, and itwas not for some days that I could quiet her. I do but relate this story, to show in what horror my little lady didever hold swords and bloodshed. Well, to continue-- This could not last for aye, and when two more years were sped, hisuncle sent the little lord to a place o' learning; and afterwards totravel to and fro upon the earth, after the manner of Satan in the Bookof Job (God forgive me! but 't has ever seemed like that to me). And weset not eyes on him for eight years. Now in that time, lo! I wasmarried, and my little lady and Mistress Marian in long kirtles, andtheir hair looped up upon their heads. Mistress Marian was yet fullhead and shoulders above my little lady, and her skin as brown as ever. But my little lady was as bright and slender as a sun-ray. They would speak to me sometimes of Lord Radnor, and how that greatfolks were saying great things of him, and how he was become a soldierand a marvellous person altogether; but as the years went by they seemednot so ready to talk o' him, only sometimes my little lady would pulldown my head as I smoothed the bedclothes over her at night, and quothshe, "Nurse, dost think he will be much changed? My hair hath notdarkened much, hath it? Dost think his curls will be different from whatthey were when he was a lad?" And I would have to tell her "No" a dozentimes ere she would let me go. But Mistress Marian said never a word. One day I learned of my lady how that Lord Radnor was to return the nextweek, and meseemed in truth the whole castle was waxed distraught. It is not in my power to tell o' th' doings, but suffice it to say, mylord did cozen them all, and come a full day ere he was expected. When he came, Mistress Marian was standing i' th' great door o' th'castle, in her hawking gown o' green velure cloth laced all with silvercord; her plumed hat was on her curls, and her hawk, Beryl, on her fist. And she turned and beheld him. Ne'er did I see verier light in earth orsky, than flashed into her face as their eyes met. And he doffed hishat, and came up beside her on the step, and saith, with the old laugh, but gentler, "Well met, comrade. " Now when he called her "comrade, " 'twas as when Jock did call me"sweetheart" in the days o' our wooing. She went red as the ribbon inhis sleeves; and when the falcon fretted and shook its bells, he did putout his hand and stroke it, and, lo! it was still, and seemed to feelhim as its master. And I wondered all this time where could be my littlelady. To this day I have ne'er seen so handsome a man as the young lord. Hewas tall and straight as an oak, with curls the color of frost-touchedoak-leaves i' th' sunlight, and eyes like the amber drink when men holdit aloft ere quaffing, and his whole countenance bright and eager, andnarrow like that o' a fox, but without a fox's cunning. Then he seemedfashioned to run, and ride, and war, as doth become all men, whether ofhigh or low estate. Then went I within to inquire after my little lady; and Jock, who wasbecome a footman i' th' castle, did tell me of how he had seen her setforth to walk i' th' park an hour gone. So straightway I went in searchof her. I had gone some six hundred paces when, at a sudden turning, I came uponher, where she held a little urchin a-straddle of her big deer-hound"Courage. " The child gave chuckles o' delight as he slipped from side toside, and the sun through the beech-leaves made their heads as like astwo crown pieces. Even as I was about to lift up my voice to halloo untoher, lo! my lord doth part the thick branches, and steps forth a littlebehind her, and stands watching her. And as he did stand there, behold, a look came o'er his face, that was stranger than any look I had e'erseen on th' face of man or of woman, and his eyes were no more brightand eager, but deep and soft. Then she turned and went direct towardshim unknowing. When she was beside him, still laughing and half out o' breath withbalancing o' th' heavy boy, he saith these two words, "My lady, " andmethought there was a whole year's love-making o' ordinary men crammedinto them. Quoth I to myself: "Ah, my little lord, so thou hast thattrick with thee! God keep my little ladies! for if the tongue be afire, how must it burn when such a wit doth wag it!" And I determined inmy heart that by some means I would warn my little lady of his sweetspeecheries. Yet was I tender towards him for the sake o' by-gone days. Mayhap, moreover, his comely face had something to do with it, for, i'fecks, ne'er saw I a goodlier countenance on Roundhead or Cavalier. Now when my lady heard his voice at her ear, first gives she such astart as doth a mettlesome filly when a hare jumps out before it, thenstock-still stands she, and her face whiter than a wind-flower, and herlips a-tremble as if to speak, but no word comes from them. He saith again, "My lady. " I saw by the moving of her lips that she fashioned the words "My God!"but still she spoke not. And the child began to whimper and clutch ather kirtle, for she had loosened her hold of him, and he feared fallingoff of the big dog. So she put one arm about him to hold him, but hereyes were yet upon his lordship. Then he came and lifted her hand to his breast, and it lay upon hisdark-green doublet, as a white flower-leaf doth upon grass, and he saithto her, "Sweetheart, dost thou not know me?" All at once, for what, God only knoweth, she fell a-weeping, and he hadher in his arms. And being some two years a mother, my care was all forthe poor little rogue on the deer-hound; 'twas as much as I could do tohold back from running and snatching him in my arms to soothe histerror. Howbeit, ere that I could commit this madness, the frighted babe set upsuch a howl as only a man-child can utter, and my lady turned to him ingreat haste, and my lord also did set about comforting him. Then theywalked slowly on, and my lord held the little lad on one side, and mylady coaxed him o' th' other. Ever and anon my lord would look from thebabe to my lady, and then from my lady to the babe. And a smile justlifted the corners o' his mouth, as sometimes a wind will just stir theleaves ere shaking them as with jollity. I followed cautiously at somedistance, and by-and-by his lordship said, "How was it that thou didstnot know me, coz? Faith thou art shot up like a lily i' th' sun, butlilies are aye lilies, and leaving thee a lily, I find thee a lilystill, though blooming on a taller stem. " And she answered him: "Yea, cousin, and oaks are aye oaks, though firstthey be saplings, then trees. And in truth I knew thee by thy voice ereI looked at thee; but 'twas all so sudden, that i' faith I wasfrightened at thee. " And he said, "But thou art glad to see me?" And being busy with the child, she answered him without lifting herhead, "Thou knowest that I am. " Then did he laugh a little, and saith, "How should I know, coz? Proof, proof, I pray thee. Wilt thou not give me the kiss o' welcome after allthese years?" Now he had not offered to kiss Mistress Marian. Therefore I waited rightcuriously to see what my little lady would say unto his offer, and Jockhaving dinned it into my ears ever since our wedding-day, that all womenwere by nature eavesdroppers, I was of a mind to prove his theory forhim; so I not only listened with all my ears, but I looked with all myeyes. My lady waxed first ruddy, then like to milk, then ruddy again, and shereached out her hand to him across the hound. "In truth I will, cousin, "quoth she. He did take the little hand in his, putting down his other hand softlyover it, as when one holds a frighted bird, and he looked at her asthough he would pierce her lids with his gaze, for her eyes were down, and he saith, "Sweetheart, right gladly will I give this pretty handthe kiss o' an eternal welcome; but methinks thou hast begged thequestion. I pleaded to receive a kiss rather than to bestow one. " And her face was like a bended rose. Then did he step round quicklybeside her, and once more was the poor babe left in dire terror o' hislife, and he made up a piteous face, but the dog standing still, he fellto rattling its collar, and soon waxed merry with the jingle o' th'silver. So I looked again at my lady and Lord Radnor. He had taken her about her waist with one arm, and with the other handhe lifted gently upward her fair face, as doth a gardener a rain-beatenflower, while his eyes looked down into hers. And slowly, slowly, almostas rose-leaves unfurl i' th' sun, her white lids curled upward, and herblue eyes peered softly from her yellow locks like corn-flowers throughripe corn, there being a tear in each, as when a rain-bead doth tremblei' th' real corn-flowers. And, to be the more like nature, there ranbig waves throughout her loosened tresses, like as when the wind dothsteal across a field o' grain on summer noons. Then he bended down his tall head, and their lips met. God alone knowswhat their first words would a been, for ere the kiss was well ended, down falls the poor little rogue off of the hound's back, and lifts uphis voice loud enow to be heard across the sea by the red men i' the newcontinent. And my lady runs and lifts him in her arms. Lord! such an adoas they had a-comforting him! First my lady, then my lord, then my ladyagain--and at last my lord tosses him to his shoulder, and saith he, "Ho! thou little Jack Pudding! an thou art not still o' th' instant, I'll swear thou art a girl, an' thou shalt ne'er have a sword such asmen have. " And as I live, the child stinted, and waxed as solemn as an owl! Notanother tear did he shed. My lord saith, "Now thou art a good lad, therefore thou shalt have my sword to play with. " And he unbinds it fromhis side, scabbard and all, and holds it while the urchin gets astrideo't and pretends to ride. When my lord is tired o' stooping, he liftsthe child again to his shoulder, and so do they conduct him back to hismother, the gardener's wife. From thence they return to the castle, andare met by my lord and lady and all the servants, while I haste me in bya side door to get on my Sunday kirtle and appear with the rest. As time wore on, the three were as much together as when he was a littlelad and they lassies, and sometimes from a window, and sometimes from aquiet coigne in the great hall (this very hall, ye mind, dears), I wouldsit with my stitchery and mark them at their bright chatter. But often Mistress Marian would come and sit against my knee, even asthou art sitting now, sweetheart, and ask me to stroke her hair, andwhen she would coax Lord Ernle's big blood-hound "Valor" to come and liebeside her, she would sit more quiet, almost as though she were asleep. And she would ask me ever and again, "Nurse, wherefore are women at anytime born with dark hair, to mar ev'n such small comeliness as theymight otherwise have?" And always I would answer, "Tut! thou knowest not of what thou speakest, my honey; in the sight o' some, dark hair is more comely than fairhair. " And always she would shake her head, and smile i' th' fashion o'one who knows better than another. But she was a wondrous fair woman, inspite o' her own thinking, and shaped like the brown metal wench overyonder with the bow and arrows. Diana, say ye? Why, even so; so it wasthat his lordship called her when he did not call her "comrade. " Now young Sir Rowland Nasmyth (him who was father to that Sir Rowlandwho wedded your sister the Lady Anne last Michaelmas, ye mind, dears), he would be often over for a day, or maybe several days, at the castle;and all four would ride a-hawking, or ramble together, two by two, through the park; or Lord Ernle and Sir Rowland would play at rackets, and i' fecks 'twas a sight to see 'em at it! One day my little lady andSir Rowland (who was a fair stripling, with curls near the color o'Mistress Marian's, and eyes the tinting o' the far sea on a rainy day)did wander off together, and Mistress Marian and my lord were leftalone, seated on a rude bench under one o' th' great beech-trees thatflank the hall door. He leaned forward and rested an elbow on eitherknee, and did let his racket swing back and forth between them, and satlooking down on it. Mistress Marian's gaze was upon him, but her big hatmade so deep a shadow o'er her eyes withal that I could not note themclearly. So stayed they for some moments. Then all in a breath did Lord Ernle start erect and push back his heavylocks and speak. "Comrade, " saith he, "wilt thou call me an ass for mypains, I wonder, an I tell thee o' something that is troubling mesorely?" She, having in no wise moved from her first position, and her eyes stillin shadow, saith, "I pray thee say on, Ernle, for such words as thouhast just spoken to me are idle. " And he leaned forward and took one of her long brown hands in his, but'twas different from the way in which he had ta'en my little lady's handat their first meeting, and he saith, "Comrade, for thou hast e'er beenmy true and loyal comrade, Marian--sweet comrade-cousin--this is thematter that doth eat my heart. Dost think there is aught betweenPatience and that young coxcomb?" There came a red mark all across her brow, as though he had smitten her, for with her sudden movement her hat had fallen upon the ground at herfeet. And she put up her hand to her side as if in pain, but snatched itback quickly. And for one heart-beat she shut her eyes. My lord, who hadstooped forward to lift her hat, saw none o' this, and when the hat wasagain upon her brow and its shadow over her face, she seemed the same asever. But I knew the shaft was in her heart, and my heart seemed to feelit, for I loved her dearly. When he could wait no longer, he said, "Well, comrade?" And she spoke, for from the hair that crowned her to the feet thatcarried her she was as brave as any Cavalier that ever swung sword forthe King, and she said, "Well indeed, cousin, for thee. " He said, "How dost thou mean for me?" Then stooped she and gathered a handful of grass, and held it aloft andopened her hand, palm downward, that the falling blades were blown thisway and that by the wind. "I mean, " quoth she, "that Rowland Nasmyth is no more to Patiencethan--I am to thee. " And she laughed a little. He came closer to her, and laid his arm about her shoulders, drawing herto him, and he said, "Nay, thou knowest how dear thou art to me, comrade; but thou meanest in different wise--is't so?" She said, "Yea; but call me Marian to-day. It is to my whim. " He answered, "Dear Marian, " and would have kissed her cheek, but shestarted up with a little cry, saying, "By'r lay'kin! there was ahoney-bee tangled in my locks. " And when he had sought for the bee to kill it with his hat, but couldnot find it, they did seat themselves again, he laughing and saying that"the bee was a bee o' much discretion and wondrous good taste. " That night when I crept to my little ladies to see that all was quiet, I, pausing in the door-way, did note them as they lay--my little ladywith her head on Mistress Marian's breast, and a smile on her lips, andMistress Marian with her arms wrapped close about her, and her dark hairswept out over the pillow, and thence to the floor, like a stream o'water that reflects a black cloud, but her eyes wide open, lookingstraight forward, as though at a ghost. And I stole off and sobbedmyself to sleep, but not before I had awakened Jock, who did grunt, after the uncourteous, pig-like manner of a suddenly wakened man, be-thump his pillow as though 't had been an anvil, and in turning over, twist the bedclothes half off of me, so that what with the cold (itbeing then the fall o' th' year), and what with my distress, I slept butuneasily. And the next thing I knew o' th' matter, there was a wedding, and mylittle lady wedded to Lord Ernle, and Mistress Marian her bridemaid. Surely if the good God e'er sent happiness on earth, He did send it tomy little lady and to his lordship. 'Twas at this time that Sir Rowlandasked Mistress Marian to be his spouse. And 'twas even i' th' same spotwhere Lord Ernle had discovered his love for my little lady, that heasked her. Again it was as though some one had smitten her--her face deadly whiteand the red line across her brow. She put out one hand to keep him fromher, and let it rest on his shoulder, and she said, "Rowland, I lovethee well, but no man will ever call me wife. " He said, "Is this the end?" She said, "Though we should both live to see the last day, it is theend. " Then he went, with his head bowed down. And when he was gone, for thefirst time in all her life she wept aloud. * * * * * Some time passed, and matters waxed ever hotter and hotter 'twixtCavaliers and Roundheads, till one night there rode up a man to thecastle gate with papers for Lord Ernle, and the long and the short o'twas this: His lordship was ordered to ride forth to war, and my littlelady only three months his wife. Now when this blow fell upon them theywere all at meat in this very hall, for ofttimes in cold weather theydined here, even as thy father and mother do now, on account o' th'greater warmth. And when my lord had glimpsed at the papers he did start to his feet, saying, "Where is the man who brought these papers?" Jock answered him, "He is gone, my lord. " Then snatching up a flagon of wine that was near at hand, he drank morethan half that was in it. And again he turned over the papers in hishand. But all they, my little lady, and Mistress Marian, and yourgrandfather and grandmother, seemed turned to stone. All at once mylittle lady started up as from a spell, and went and got her arms abouthim, as in years gone by when she had hurt him with his own mock sword, and she cried out, "What is it? what is it?" Anon came Mistress Marianto his other side, and looked over his shoulder, while he stood betweenthem like one bewitched, and whiter than a man just dead. When MistressMarian noted the contents o' th' papers, up went her hand to her heartas on that day under the beech-tree, and she caught at his arm to stayherself. He turned from his wife to her as though for help, saying, "Tell her, tell her, comrade. " And he sank into a chair near by, and dropped downhis head into his hand. Lord! Lord! that was a fearful night! When they made my little lady tounderstand, she set up one cry after another, each loud enough to piercethe very floor of heaven. Ne'er since have I heard a woman utter suchcries as those. And no one but Mistress Marian could in any wiseappease her, for she would not have my lord come unto her, but drove himaway with waving of her hands, saying, "Thou dost not love _me_, but theKing! thou dost not love _me_, but the King!" And when Mistress Marian sought to reason with her, 'twas even the same. Naught could she do but sit and hold her, and comfort her with softwords and noises such as mothers make o'er their young babes. By-and-byshe was calmer, and asked to see her lord. So Mistress Marian went out, but I remained on a low stool at the bed's foot. Lord Ernle entered, andshe crept into his arms like a fawn into the hollow of a rock when thehail is falling. And they clung to each other in silence. Presently hesaith, "Darling, darling, that I should have brought thee to grief!" She answered, "Nay, not thou, but God. O love, dost truly think that Godis aye a good God?" And he hushed and soothed her even more tenderly than did MistressMarian. Afterwhile she saith, almost in a whisper, "But thou needst not go?" He said, "Darling, how dost thou mean?" And she whispered more low and said, "I will go with thee to the newcontinent to-morrow, and there we can live the rest o' our days in peaceand love. " And she broke out all at once wilder than ever: "Ernle!Ernle! take me! I will go with thee! I will leave father, and mother, and home, and country, and friends, and King for thee! Only go not towar! go not to war!" He said but two words back of his teeth, "I must!" and then again, "_Imust!_" But when he looked at her for answer, lo! she had swooned away. He was to set forth in two days after the morrow; and on the morning ofthat day, behold! we could not believe our own eyes for astonishmentwhen we saw the Lady Patience step quietly forth, composed and gentle, though very pale. She saith good-morrow to every one, and after a whileshe doth slip her arm through her husband's arm, and saith she, "Comefor a walk, Ernle; I have much to say to thee. " So they started forthtogether. Now I, fearful of many things, did follow at a littledistance. As they walked she besought him again that he would take herand set sail for the new continent. And when again he told her how thatit could not be, she fell down upon her knees before him, and claspedhim with her arms, and she said, "If thou dost not love me, let me bethe first to die by thy sword. Slay me, as I kneel, for the love I bearthee. " He said, "Patience, Patience, thou wilt break mine heart. " And she, still kneeling, did cry out with a wild voice, "They lied whonamed me, for in an ill hour was I born, and I have not patience tosupport it! I thought that thou didst love me, and lo! thou lovest thehusband of another woman more than thou lovest me!" He bent to lift her up, groaning, but she would not; whereat he trembledfrom head to foot, and she shook with his trembling as the leaves of atree when the shaft is smitten by lightning. And she cried out again, and said, "As there is a God in heaven, thou dost not love me, an thoucanst go to war and leave me to die o' grief. " Then, as though 'twastorn from him, he burst forth, "Now as there is a God, thou dost notlove _me_, to torture me thus!" And all at once she was quiet. So he stooped and lifted her, and calledher his "bride, " and his "wife, " and his "darling, " and his "heart'sblood, " and more wild, fond, foolish names than at this day I canremember. 'Twas near sundown, and that night he was to ride. Overagainst the dark jags o' th' hills there ran a narrow streak of light, like a golden ribbon. And the brown clouds above and below it were likelocks o' hair made wanton by the wind, which it as a fillet did seek tobind. But they twain walked ever on, till by-and-by they neared thatcave o' which I did tell ye. As they came in front o't my lady turned, and smiling piteously, "Ernle, " saith she, "wilt thou go with me intothe cave and kiss me there, that when thou art gone I may come hitherand think o' thee?" And he said, "Oh, my heart! what would I not for thee?" And he kissedher again and again. Presently she said, "Do not think me foolish, but wilt thou enterfirst?--it is so dark. " And she stood in the door-way, with her hand onthe door, while he entered. He said, "There is nothing here, sweetheart, but a monstrous damp odor. " And she answered, "Nay, but go to the very end; there may be toads; andwhen thou art there, halloo to me. " So she waited with her hand on thedoor. He called to her, "There is nothing, love. Wait until I return to thee. "But, ere he had ceased speaking, she clapped to the door with all hermight, and did push forward the great iron bolt, so that he was aprisoner in the cave; I being rooted to the ground with astonishment, asfast as was ever the oak-tree under which I stood. At first he thought'twas but one o' her pretty trickeries, and I heard his gay laugh as hecame to the shut door, and he called out, and said, "So, sweetheart, Iam in truth a prisoner o' war; but art thou not an unmerciful general toconfine the captured in so rheumatic a cavern?" She sat down and leaned her head against the door, but said not a word. And he spoke again, saying, "Darling, I pray thee waste not what littletime doth yet remain to us. " Still she answered not; and again he spake, and his voice began to besorrowful. "Oh, my wife, " he said, "canst thou jest at such a time?" At last she answered him, saying, "I jest not. " His voice changed somewhat, and he said, "What dost thou, then?" She answered, "I keep what is mine. Where my forefathers did hide theirtreasure, there hide I mine. " He said, in a loud voice, "God will not suffer it. " Then fell a silence between them. But by-and-by he spoke again. "Darling, " he saith, "surely thou dost not mean to do this thing?" And she saith, like a child when 'tis naughty, and knoweth well that itis, but likes not to say so, "What thing?" He answered, "Thou canst not truly mean to shut me here to bringdishonor upon me, who have loved thee better than man ever loved woman"(for so do all men say, and truly think). She said, "Thy life is more to me than thy honor. " And he groaned aloud, crying, "Oh God! that I have lived to hear theesay it!" and again there fell a silence, save for the whispering of thenight in the trees above us and the creeping of small creatures throughthe dry grass. 'Twas almost curfew-time, and there was one star in theblack front o' th' night, like the star on the forehead of a blackstallion. When he spake again his voice was very fierce, and he saith, "Patience, I do command thee to release me. " But she spake never a word. And again he said, "Better let me out to love thee, than keep me hereuntil I hate thee. " She shivered, leaning against the door, until the big bolt rattled inits braces. And he said yet again, "By the Lord God, an thou dost keep me here tosully my good name, and that of thy father and mother, who have been tome even as my own flesh and blood, I will never live with thee again asman with wife, but will go forth into the New World to live and to diewith thy handmaid dishonor!" And she was silent. Again he spoke, and lifted up his voice in a cry exceeding sorrowful andbitter, so that my heart froze to hear it. "Woman! woman! was it for this I gave thee my fair fame to cherish? Orwas it for this that I put my name into thy keeping? Oh, child, listenwhile there is yet time! Wilt thou with thy own hands take his manhoodfrom thy husband to drag it through the mire? Patience, as I have sharedthy childhood, as I have loved and cherished thy girlhood, as I haveheld thee in my arms as bride and wife, give me back my honor whilethere is yet time. Oh, my wife! my darling!" And I heard him sobbinglike a little lad. At that sound she put both hands over her ears, and started to herfeet, looking from right to left like a hunted thing, and I could bearit no longer, but leaped forward and fell on my knees before her, andgrasped her kirtle with both hands. I could scarce speak for tears, butwith all the strength that was in me did I plead with her to draw backthe bolt, but she would not. Now to this day when I do think of the foolthat I was, not to run without her knowledge and bring the old lord, thygrandfather, or bide my time and unbar the door when she had gone, itseems as though I must hate myself for evermore. But as I pleaded withher, all at once there was something cold against my throat, and Iseemed to know that 'twas a dagger, and the steel cowed me, as it dothsometimes cow strong men, and I stirred not, neither spoke I a wordmore. Her face was over me, like a white flower in the purple dusk, buther eyes bright and terrible. And when she spoke, 'twas not my littlelady's voice, but rather the voice o' a fiend. And she said, "Swear that thou sayest nothing of all this to man, or to woman, or tochild, else will I kill thee as thou kneelest. " And I knew that for the time she was mad, and would kill me even as shehad said, did I not swear. So I did take that fearful oath, coward as Iwas, and to this day am I a craven when I think on 't. When I had sworn, she turned from me as though there were no such woman in all the earth, and went once more to the door o' th' cave, and called hisname--"Ernle!" He answered straightway, and said, "This once will I speak to thee, butif thou dost not unbar the door o' th' instant, I will never hold speechwith thee again, nor touch so much as the hem of thy garments, by theliving God!" She said, "I cannot! I cannot! But oh! say not such dreadful words. Wewill be happy. 'Tis for that I keep thee here. Speak to me! Ernle!Ernle! Ernle! Call me thy love once more! Just once! just once!" But she might as well have plead at the door o' a tomb for all theanswer she got. Again and again she called him, but a dead man speaks nomore than spoke her lord. And at last she sprang to her feet, and rushedaway into the darkness towards the castle, and I after her. And when I was entered in by a side door, and had changed my apparel andgone forth to inquire after her, lo! she was raving as with fever, andall they, her father, and mother, and Mistress Marian, thought that hehad ridden away and left her i' th' park, having said farewell to themere he and my lady did set forth to walk. And they strove to comforther. The morrow was scarce dawned when she was up and dressed, and stealingthrough the covert to the door o' th' cave. I followed her, for sheheeded me no more, now that I had taken the oath, knowing that I wouldbe torn in pieces ere I would betray my trust. When she was come to thedoor, she kneeled down and leaned her head against it, and called tohim, with a voice so exquisite low, 'twas almost as though one shouldhear the spirit when it speaks within, and she saith, "Ernle--mylove--my love. " And all was still as death. And she said, "Darling, feel with thy handsfor the bread and wine. It is near thee on the right o' th' door as thouenterest in. Two bottles o' wine and some loaves o' bread. " But he answered her neither by word or sighing. And she said, "Wouldstthou break my heart?" Then, when she saw that he would not answer her, she cast herself face down along the ground, and tore up the grass withher hands, and pressed down her face into the damp earth. And after awhile (for th' looks o't) she rose and went back to the castle. At nightfall there rode a man to the castle gate with papers, whereinmy Lord Falkland did question wherefore Lord Radnor had not answered thesummons. And all they were amazed and looked at one another. Themessenger said, moreover, "If that it cannot be proven ere to-morrownight that the Lord Radnor hath been the victim o' foul play, he will bebranded as a deserter throughout the land. " Thy grandfather gave one cry, "Murdered!" and the sound of it stilledthe life in me that I fell down as one dead. And when I had once morecome to the possession o' my wits, Jock did tell me as how 'twas alreadywhispered in the village that the young lord had deserted the cause, andhad set sail in secret for the New World. Upon this, I straightwayswooned again. And when I was recovered enough to stand upon my feet andgo forth from my chamber, behold! there was a silence over all thehouse, as in a house where the best beloved has died in the night. Men scoured the country far and near, in search o' th' murdered body o'th' young lord. And 'twas now the evening o' th' third day. But my ladymeant not to open the door until the morrow, for if she opened it erethen, she knew not but what matters might be righted, and her lord rideto the wars in spite o' all. When it was nigh to sunset she did creepforth and kneel at the door o' th' cave, and call to him in thatbeautiful, gentle voice, "Ernle! Ernle! my love! my darling!" And when he did not answer her, she ceased not, as on the day before, but went on: "To-morrow I will set thee free. As I live, thou shall befree to-morrow. An thou wilt but let me be near thee like thy dog, Iwill ask no more. Neither will I fret thee with my sorrow. Oh, love, Ido beseech thee speak to me, whose only sin was in loving thee toodearly. Let the kisses that as a bride I have set upon thy lips pleadwith them that they speak to me. Oh, my heart! oh, my husband, havepity! If thou wilt never speak to me again, speak to me now. Say but myname, my silly, ill-bestowed name, 'Patience. ' Nay, curse me, so I buthear thy voice. Call me what names thou wilt. In God's name, Ernle! Inthe name o' her who was once thy wife!" And as she knelt and pleaded asa woman with her God, behold! there stepped forth from the coppiceMistress Marian. She stood there like a figure cut in snow, for herkirtle was all of white sémé, and her hair was as a cloud fallen roundabout her. When she saw my lady she drew in her breath with a sharpsound, and set both hands against her bosom. And she bended forward fromher loins and listened, but in none otherwise moved she. And my ladywent on, "To-morrow I will set thee free--I do swear it. With the risingo' th' morrow's sun thou shalt be free as air. Only speak to me now. Only speak to me now. Just once, Ernle--just once. " With one spring Mistress Marian was upon her, and had pinned her arms toher sides. And the two women stood and gazed into each other's faces, with their throats stretched forward, as serpents stretch their throatsere springing upon each other. Mistress Marian spake first, and her voice was as a voice that I hadnever heard, and she said, "So _this_ is the truth, then?" My lady said no word, but her eyes were aflame. And Mistress Marian gazed on her for an instant more, then dashed heraside, and turned towards the cave. "Ernle, " she said, "take heart. I will set thee free--I, Marian!" Butere her hand did touch the bolt, my lady was upon her like a littletiger, and she wound her hands in Mistress Marian's thick tresses, anddragged her backward. And they rolled over and over on the ground, even as do men when theyfight, saying no word from first to last. The horror of it smote methat I fell down upon my knees and was dumb. Now my little lady wasuppermost, now Mistress Marian. And had not my lady been strong withdespair, Mistress Marian could 'a' mastered her o' th' instant. But shefought like a she-wolf brought to bay, with teeth and talons too, and'twas almost as though two of a size had fought there. Howbeit, with asudden move, Mistress Marian flung my lady down, and set her knee uponher, and held her, and looked from side to side, as though at a loss, and my lady's strength was fast failing. When I saw that, I could bide still no longer, but ran forward, cryingto Mistress Marian to be gentle with her. She answered but these words, "Nurse, take off my girdle and bind thylady's hands with it. " And there was that in her voice I dared notdisobey. So I bound my lady's hands, she saying never a word, and whenthe girdle was fast knotted, Mistress Marian helped her gently enough torise, and bidding me have a care o' her, turned and drew back the boltfrom the door o' the cave. The last light o' the sun fell like a golden lance across the threshold, and across my lord as he lay there, face down, with his hands againstthe sill o' th' door. And she stooped down over him, saying, "He hath fainted for lack o'food, " but I knew that there was both wine and bread i' th' cave. Andshe called his name, but he was silent. And she called him again andagain. And at last she bade me come to her side, and when we had turnedhim upon his side so that his face was towards us, behold, he was dead. But Mistress Marian saith again, "He hath swooned away. " And she put herhand upon his brow, but no sooner did she touch it than she cried out atits coldness, and shook the dead man in her frenzy, crying, "Ernle! Ernle! thou art free! Wake, man! thou art free!" I said, "Mistress, mistress, for love of God! Dost thou not see thatneither thou nor any other can wake him more?" Thereat she fell back upon her knees, leaning upon one arm. And shesaid, "Dost thou mean--" I bowed down mine head, for I could not meet her eyes. And she fell uponhis body, and stirred no more, so that when they came to bear the pooryoung lord to the castle, they did bear her also. And for some hours wethought her dead. Now when my lady saw them how they lay there, and the sunlight red uponthem like to blood, she came and kneeled down in front o' me, and liftedup her poor fettered hands meekly, like a little child. And she said, "Nurse, I pray you tell me what it doth mean, for methinks I am waxingfoolish, like poor Marjory i' th' village whose man fell from thecliff. " I could not answer her for sobbing. And she said, "Do they sleep?" And I nodded my head, for I could say no word. She said, "Pray you, do not wake them. An they sleep till the morrow, all will be well. " Suddenly her wits came back upon her with a rush, asdoth a wind that hath seemed to be gone for aye. And she snapt thegirdle on her wrists like as it had been a thread o' silk, and ran andlaid hold on him with her hands, and dragged him forth upon the grass. And she saith, "Ernle! Ernle! Ernle! What! wilt thou not answer me, now that thou artfree? See! thou mayest ride to war. It is not yet too late. What there, nurse! My lord's charger! Run! run!" Then leaped she to her feet withone cry that methought would 'a' cracked the welkin in twain above ourheads. "Dead! Oh God in heaven!" So for an instant she stood, with her arms reached high above her head, and her eyes upon him as he lay at her feet, even as a flame doth poisefor a breath ere sinking again upon the coals. But anon she dropped downbeside him, and beat her forehead with the lower palms o' her hands, andshe saith, "Well didst thou sign me with thy blood! well didst thou signme with thy blood!" Then all at once did she peep up at me over hershoulder with one o' her winsome ways, and fell a-laughing softly. "Nurse, " saith she, "hath he not found a pretty way to punish me? Hefeigns it well--by'r lay'kin--doth he not, nurse?" And she rocked to and fro, as she knelt beside him, laughing softly toherself, and ever and again she would reach forth one little hand, allscarred in her struggle with Mistress Marian, and would touch a straylock into place, and once she bent over and kissed him, laughing softly, and nodding to herself very wisely. And she would sit that way, and rockherself to and fro, and smile upon the ground, and laugh softly, untilthe very day that she did die. And the last words that she did ever saywere, "Just once, Ernle--just once. " * * * * * (Nurse Crumpet rises and stirs the fire, amid a heavy silence, brokenonly by the little Lady Dorothy's sobs and the rushing of the windoutside the great hall. ) THE END. TONY, THE MAID. A Novelette. BY BLANCHE WILLIS HOWARD. Illustrated by CHARLES S. REINHART. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. "'Tony, the Maid, ' is not only one of the best pieces of work Miss Howard has yet done, but it is one of the very best short stories of the year. Tony herself is an original creation. There is no maid like Tony in all fiction; and she is, moreover, the only good thing, which is neither superlatively beautiful nor emphatically a bore, or both, that has come out of the Canton of Lucerne since the days of William Tell. Even the insatiate archer, when he is not mythical, is a trifle wearing to the average mind, but Tony is never tiresome and always grand. "As a short story Miss Howard's 'Tony, the Maid' has but one fault. It is too short. There is not enough of Tony. She makes her exit too suddenly and too completely. It is consoling to know, however, that Miss Zschorcher is some day coming to America as Mrs. Eduard Maler. Perhaps Tony the Maid may figure as Tony the Matron and Tony the Mother. Knowing her duty to her gracious Fräulein, no doubt she will. " A bright and lively sketch of an American woman abroad, and characterized throughout by keen and forcible phraseology and a very symmetrical construction. --_N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. _ This is a very clever satire on one of the phases of modern society, and the tale is told in a most charming manner. --_Albany Press. _ It is a long time since we have met with anything so charming, so refreshing, so droll. . . . Read this book once, and one wants to turn back and read it again. --_N. Y. Star. _ Mr. Reinhart's illustrations greatly enhance the interest of the novelette. --_Buffalo Commercial Advertiser. _ A story written in a style as simple as that which Miss Howard has adopted in this novelette is sure to find many readers. The story is well told and attractive. --_Troy Press. _ "Tony, the Maid, " is safe for a great success with the lovers of the bright and dainty in literature. It is prettily bound, and uncommonly cleverly illustrated. --_N. Y. Graphic. _ The story is told with infinite humor and with not a little pathos, and it will well repay perusal. --_Philadelphia Telegraph. _ The plot is new, the characters are fresh, and the handling is spirited and brisk. No one who commences this little book will stop reading until the end is reached. --_Chicago Journal. _ * * * * * PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. [Illustration: Hand pointing] _The above work sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. _ BY CONSTANCE F. WOOLSON. EAST ANGELS. Pp. 592. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. ANNE. Illustrated. Pp. 540. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. FOR THE MAJOR. Pp. 208. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. CASTLE NOWHERE. Pp. 386. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. (_A New Edition. _) RODMAN THE KEEPER. Southern Sketches. Pp. 340. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. (_ANew Edition. _) * * * * * There is a certain bright cheerfulness in Miss Woolson's writing which invests all her characters with lovable qualities. --_Jewish Advocate, N. Y. _ Miss Woolson is among our few successful writers of interesting magazine stories, and her skill and power are perceptible in the delineation of her heroines no less than in the suggestive pictures of local life. --_Jewish Messenger, N. Y. _ Constance Fenimore Woolson may easily become the novelist laureate. --_Boston Globe. _ Miss Woolson has a graceful fancy, a ready wit, a polished style, and conspicuous dramatic power; while her skill in the development of a story is very remarkable. --_London Life. _ Miss Woolson never once follows the beaten track of the orthodox novelist, but strikes a new and richly loaded vein, which so far is all her own; and thus we feel, on reading one of her works, a fresh sensation, and we put down the book with a sigh to think our pleasant task of reading it is finished. The author's lines must have fallen to her in very pleasant places; or she has, perhaps, within herself the wealth of womanly love and tenderness she pours so freely into all she writes. Such books as hers do much to elevate the moral tone of the day--a quality sadly wanting in novels of the time. --_Whitehall Review, London. _ * * * * * PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. [Illustration: Hand pointing] _The above works sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. _ * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Page 112, "desert" changed to "dessert" (dessert, I'll warrant) Page 187, "Mistres" changed to "Mistress" (Mistress Marion in long)