The sun had set as Reginald Trevor rode out of Hollymead Park. But he
did not intend returning to Lydney that night; instead, purposed passing
it in Ross, to which town he had also an errand. By making free use of
the spur he might still reach his destination within the twilight.
Outside the park gate he was about turning in the Ross direction when he
saw a party on horseback advancing from the opposite, as he had himself
come. Four there were--two gentlemen in front, with their respective
attendants a little behind. He could have shunned them by riding
rapidly on before; but from the stylish appearance of one of the
gentlemen he took it they were Cavaliers, possibly might be
acquaintances; and after his long, lonely ride he was in the humour for
company. It might help him some little to get over his chagrin. So he
drew rein, and sate in his saddle waiting for them to come up.
There was a wide sweep of grass-grown turf between the park gate and the
public road, and he had halted at the end of it on the right. Soon the
party approaching reached the other, and he saw, with some surprise, and
a little vexation, their horses' heads being turned in towards the gate.
Whoever the gentlemen might be, they were evidently bent upon a visit
to the house that had refused hospitality to himself.
With something more than curiosity he scanned them now. Were they known
to him? Yes! one was; his surprise becoming astonishment, as in the
more showily-attired of the two gentlemen he recognised his cousin
Eustace.
"You, Eust!" he exclaimed, drawing his horse round, and trotting towards
his kinsman; his glance given to the other being as that to a stranger;
for he was not acquainted with Sir Richard Walwyn.
"You, Rej!" was the all-but echo of a response, and the cousins came
together, Sir Richard passing on into the park. The gentleman
tax-gatherer, still smarting under the rebuff given him, the smart
shared by his servant, had ill-manneredly left the gate open behind
them.
It was months since the cousins had met; though each knew where the
other was, or ought to be. Hence Reginald's surprise to see Eustace
there, supposing him to be engaged in his duties at Court. He spoke it
inquiringly, as they held out to shake hands; but, before the other
could make answer, he saw that which gave him a start--blood upon the
hand extended to him! The white buckskin glove was reddened with it all
over up to the gauntlets.
"God bless me, Eust! what's this? A wound! Have you been quarrelling?"
"Oh! nothing much. Only a little prick in the wrist."
"Prick in the wrist! But from what?"
"The point of a rapier."
"The deuce! Then you _have_ been quarrelling. With whom, pray?"
"Speak a little lower, Rej. I'd rather _he_ didn't hear us."
And Eustace nodded towards Sir Richard, who was not yet quite beyond
earshot.
"Surely you don't mean the affair was with him?"
"I do--it was."
"He got the better of you?"
"Quick as you could count ten."
"Zounds! that's strange--you such a swordsman! But still stranger what
I see now, your being in his company. Not his prisoner, are you?"
"Well, in a way I am."
"In that case, cousin, my sword's at your service. So let _me_ try
conclusions with him. Possibly, I may get you a _revanche_; at the same
time release you from any _parole_ you may be under."
Though, but the moment before, some little cowed, and declining a combat
with serving men, Reginald Trevor was all courage now; and feared not to
meet a gentleman in fair fight. For he saw that Trevor blood had been
spilt, and, although he and his cousin Eustace had never been bosom
friends, they were yet of the same family. The hot Cymric blood that
ran in the veins of both boiled up in his to avenge whatever defeat his
kinsman might have sustained, and without awaiting answer he asked
impatiently,--
"Shall I follow, and flout him, Eust? I will if you but say the word."
"No, Rej; nothing of the sort. Thank you all the same."
"Well; if you're against it, I won't. But it edges a Trevor's teeth to
see one of his kin--full cousin, too--worsted, conquered, dead--down as
you seem to be. All, I suppose, from your antagonist being a bit bigger
and older than you are. He's that as regards myself; for all I've no
fear to face him."
"I know you haven't, Rej. But don't be angry with me for saying, if you
did, it would end as it has with me--maybe worse."
The _ci-devant_ gentleman-usher spoke with some pique. Notwithstanding
the generous offer of his cousin to espouse his quarrel, there was that
in the proposal itself which seemed to reflect on his own capability--a
suggestion, almost an assertion, of patronising superiority.
"What do you mean, Eustace?" asked the other, looking a little roughed.
"That yonder gentleman," he nodded towards Sir Richard, now well out of
hearing, "is a perfect master of both sword and horse. He proved
himself _my_ master in less than five minutes after engaging; could have
thrust me in as many seconds had he been so disposed. While fighting
with him I felt a very child in his hands; and he, as I now chance to
know, was but playing with me. In the end he disarmed me--could have
done it long before--by this touch in the wrist, which sent my rapier
spinning off into the air. That isn't all. He has disarmed me in
another sense; changed me from angry foe to, I might almost say, friend.
That's why I've told you that I'm in a way his prisoner."
"It's a strange tale," rejoined Reginald, choking down his wrath. "All
that, by sun, moon, and stars! But I won't question you further about
it; only tell me why you are here. I thought you were so fixed in the
Palace of Westminster, such a favourite of the grand lady who there
rules the mart, you'd never more care to breathe a breath of country
air. Yet here I find you in the Forest of Dean--its very heart--far
away from court and city life as man could well get within England's
realm. How has it come about, cousin?"
"I wouldn't mind telling you, Rej, if there was time. But there isn't.
As you see, Sir Richard is waiting for me."
"Sir Richard who?"
"Walwyn."
"Oh, that's the name of your generous conqueror?"
"It is."
"I've heard of the individual, though never saw him till now. But how
fell you into his company, and what brought about your quarrel?"
"Leave it, Rej, like other matters, till we meet again, and have more
time to talk over such things."
"Agreed. Still there's time to say why you are going to Hollymead
House."
"Hollymead House?"
"Oh, you didn't know that was the name of Ambrose Powell's place!"
"Ambrose Powell?"
"What! Nor yet the name of the man you're about to pay visit to?"
"I confess I do not."
"Nor anything else of him?"
"Nothing whatever."
He was on the point of adding, "Only that I've been told something about
a pair of pretty girls," when it occurred to him he might be touching on
a subject in which his cousin had a tender concern.
"'Pon my honour!" rejoined the latter, making an uphill attempt to
laugh, "the tale grows stranger and stranger! You, of the King's
Household, on your way to make acquaintance--friendly, of course--with
one of his Majesty's greatest and most pronounced enemies--a man who
hates King, Court, and Church; above all, bitter against your especial
patroness, the Queen. I've heard him call her a Jezebel, with other
opprobrious epithets."
"Odd in you, Rej, such a devoted Royalist, to have listened calmly to
all that?"
"I didn't listen calmly; would have quickly stopped his seditious
chattering, but for--"
"For what?" asked the other, seeing he hesitated.
"Oh, certain reasons I may some day make known to you. Like yourself,
Eust, I have some secrets."
Eust thought he could give a good guess at one of them, but mercifully
forbore allusion to it.
"But," he said, with an air of pretended surprise, "you've been just
visiting this terrible king-hater yourself, Rej? If I mistake not, you
came out of the park. You were up to the house, were you not?"
"I was."
"And has it shaken your loyalty, or in any way weakened it?"
"On the contrary, strengthened it. My errand to Ambrose Powell, with
the reception he vouchsafed me--the ill-grained curmudgeon--has had all
that effect."
"Then you've been quarrelling, too! Have you any objection to tell me
what about?"
"Not the slightest. I was the bearer of a letter of Privy Seal to him--
for a loan. Sir John Wintour, as you may be aware, has been appointed
one of the King's Commissioners of Array for West Gloucestershire and
the Forest. You know I'm in his service, which will make the matter
understandable to you."
"And you haven't got the money? I needn't ask; there's the signs of
refusal in your face."
"Got the money! Zounds! no. Instead, the recusant tore the letter into
shreds, and flung them at his feet; defying me, Sir John, King, and all!
Ah! well; that won't be the end of it. I shall be sure of having
occasion to visit Hollymead again, and ere long! Next time the tables
will be turned. But, cousin, after hearing what I've told you, are you
still in the mind to go on to that seditious den? If you take my
advice, you'll turn your back on Hollymead House, and come along with
me. I'm making for Ross."
"To take your advice, Rej, would be to do as rude a thing as a man well
could--ruder than I ever did in my life. Disloyal, too--doubly so; I
should be traitor to gratitude, as to courtesy. Indeed, I've trenched
scandalously on good manners now, by keeping yonder gentleman so long
waiting for me."
He nodded towards Sir Richard, who had halted at some distance up the
avenue.
"Oh, very well," sneeringly rejoined Sir John Wintour's emissary. "Of
course, you can do as you like, Eust. I'm not your master, though
yonder gentleman, as you call him, seems to be. Good-evening!"
And with this curt leave-taking, the sneer still on his face, he dug the
spurs deep into his horse's ribs, and went off at a gallop along the
road for Ross.