Produced by David Reed
TO HAVE AND TO HOLD
By Mary Johnston
TO
THE MEMORY OF
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. IN WHICH I THROW AMBS-ACE
CHAPTER II. IN WHICH I MEET MASTER JEREMY SPARROW
CHAPTER III. IN WHICH I MARRY IN HASTE
CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH I AM LIKE TO REPENT AT LEISURE
CHAPTER V. IN WHICH A WOMAN HAS HER WAY
CHAPTER VI. IN WHICH WE GO TO JAMESTOWN
CHAPTER VII. IN WHICH WE PREPARE TO FIGHT THE SPANIARD
CHAPTER VIII. IN WHICH ENTERS MY LORD CARNAL
CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH TWO DRINK OF ONE CUP
CHAPTER X. IN WHICH MASTER PORY GAINS TIME TO SOME PURPOSE
CHAPTER XI. IN WHICH I MEET AN ITALIAN DOCTOR
CHAPTER XII. IN WHICH I RECEIVE A WARNING AND REPOSE A TRUST
CHAPTER XIII. IN WHICH THE SANTA TERESA DROPS DOWN-STREAM
CHAPTER XIV. IN WHICH WE SEEK A LOST LADY
CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH WE FIND THE HAUNTED WOOD
CHAPTER XVI. IN WHICH I AM RID OF AN UNPROFITABLE SERVANT
CHAPTER XVII. IN WHICH MY LORD AND I PLAY AT BOWLS
CHAPTER XVIII. IN WHICH WE GO OUT INTO THE NIGHT
CHAPTER XIX. IN WHICH WE HAVE UNEXPECTED COMPANY
CHAPTER XX. IN WHICH WE ARE IN DESPERATE CASE
CHAPTER XXI. IN WHICH A GRAVE IS DIGGED
CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH I CHANGE MY NAME AND OCCUPATION
CHAPTER XXIII. IN WHICH WE WRITE UPON THE SAND
CHAPTER XXIV. IN WHICH WE CHOOSE THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS
CHAPTER XXV. IN WHICH MY LORD HATH HIS DAY
CHAPTER XXVI. IN WHICH I AM BROUGHT TO TRIAL
CHAPTER XXVII. IN WHICH I FIND AN ADVOCATE
CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH THE SPRINGTIME IS AT HAND
CHAPTER XXIX. IN WHICH I KEEP TRYST
CHAPTER XXX. IN WHICH WE START UPON A JOURNEY
CHAPTER XXXI. IN WHICH NANTAUQUAS COMES TO OUR RESCUE
CHAPTER XXXII. IN WHICH WE ARE THE GUESTS OF AN EMPEROR
CHAPTER XXXIII. IN WHICH MY FRIEND BECOMES MY FOE
CHAPTER XXXIV. IN WHICH THE RACE IS NOT TO THE SWIFT
CHAPTER XXXV. IN WHICH I COME TO THE GOVERNOR'S HOUSE
CHAPTER XXXVI. IN WHICH I HEAR ILL NEWS
CHAPTER XXXVII. IN WHICH MY LORD AND I PART COMPANY
CHAPTER XXXVIII. IN WHICH I GO UPON A QUEST
CHAPTER XXXIX. IN WHICH WE LISTEN TO A SONG
TO HAVE AND TO HOLD
CHAPTER I IN WHICH I THROW AMBS-ACE
THE work of the day being over, I sat down upon my doorstep, pipe in
hand, to rest awhile in the cool of the evening. Death is not more still
than is this Virginian land in the hour when the sun has sunk away, and
it is black beneath the trees, and the stars brighten slowly and softly,
one by one. The birds that sing all day have hushed, and the horned
owls, the monster frogs, and that strange and ominous fowl (if fowl it
be, and not, as some assert, a spirit damned) which we English call the
whippoorwill, are yet silent. Later the wolf will howl and the panther
scream, but now there is no sound. The winds are laid, and the restless
leaves droop and are quiet. The low lap of the water among the reeds is
like the breathing of one who sleeps in his watch beside the dead.
I marked the light die from the broad bosom of the river, leaving it
a dead man's hue. Awhile ago, and for many evenings, it had been
crimson,--a river of blood. A week before, a great meteor had shot
through the night, blood-red and bearded, drawing a slow-fading fiery
trail across the heavens; and the moon had risen that same night
blood-red, and upon its disk there was drawn in shadow a thing most
marvelously like a scalping knife. Wherefore, the following day being
Sunday, good Mr. Stockham, our minister at Weyanoke, exhorted us to be
on our guard, and in his prayer besought that no sedition or rebellion
might raise its head amongst the Indian subjects of the Lord's anointed.
Afterward, in the churchyard, between the services, the more timorous
began to tell of divers portents which they had observed, and to recount
old tales of how the savages distressed us in the Starving Time. The
bolder spirits laughed them to scorn, but the women began to weep and
cower, and I, though I laughed too, thought of Smith, and how he ever
held the savages, and more especially that Opechancanough who was now
their emperor, in a most deep distrust; telling us that the red men
watched while we slept, that they might teach wiliness to a Jesuit, and
how to bide its time to a cat crouched before a mousehole. I thought
of the terms we now kept with these heathen; of how they came and went
familiarly amongst us, spying out our weakness, and losing the salutary
awe which that noblest captain had struck into their souls; of how many
were employed as hunters to bring down deer for lazy masters; of how,
breaking the law, and that not secretly, we gave them knives and arms, a
soldier's bread, in exchange for pelts and pearls; of how their emperor
was forever sending us smooth messages; of how their lips smiled
and their eyes frowned. That afternoon, as I rode home through the
lengthening shadows, a hunter, red-brown and naked, rose from behind a
fallen tree that sprawled across my path, and made offer to bring me my
meat from the moon of corn to the moon of stags in exchange for a gun.
There was scant love between the savages and myself,--it was answer
enough when I told him my name. I left the dark figure standing, still
as a carved stone, in the heavy shadow of the trees, and, spurring my
horse (sent me from home, the year before, by my cousin Percy), was soon
at my house,--a poor and rude one, but pleasantly set upon a slope of
green turf, and girt with maize and the broad leaves of the tobacco.
When I had had my supper, I called from their hut the two Paspahegh lads
bought by me from their tribe the Michaelmas before, and soundly flogged
them both, having in my mind a saying of my ancient captain's, namely,
“He who strikes first oft-times strikes last.”
Upon the afternoon of which I now speak, in the midsummer of the year of
grace 1621, as I sat upon my doorstep, my long pipe between my teeth and
my eyes upon the pallid stream below, my thoughts were busy with these
matters,--so busy that I did not see a horse and rider emerge from the
dimness of the forest into the cleared space before my palisade, nor
knew, until his voice came up the bank, that my good friend, Master John
Rolfe, was without and would speak to me.
I went down to the gate, and, unbarring it, gave him my hand and led the
horse within the inclosure.
“Thou careful man!” he said, with a laugh, as he dismounted. “Who else,
think you, in this or any other hundred, now bars his gate when the sun
goes down?”
“It is my sunset gun,” I answered briefly, fastening his horse as I
spoke.
He put his arm about my shoulder, for we were old friends, and together
we went up the green bank to the house, and, when I had brought him a
pipe, sat down side by side upon the doorstep.
“Of what were you dreaming?” he asked presently, when we had made for
ourselves a great cloud of smoke. “I called you twice.”
“I was wishing for Dale's times and Dale's laws.”
He laughed, and touched my knee with his hand, white and smooth as a
woman's, and with a green jewel upon the forefinger.
“Thou Mars incarnate!” he cried. “Thou first, last, and in the meantime
soldier! Why, what wilt thou do when thou gettest to heaven? Make it too
hot to hold thee? Or take out letters of marque against the Enemy?”
“I am not there yet,” I said dryly. “In the meantime I would like a
commission against--your relatives.”
He laughed, then sighed, and, sinking his chin into his hand and softly
tapping his foot against the ground, fell into a reverie.
“I would your princess were alive,” I said presently.
“So do I,” he answered softly. “So do I.” Locking his hands behind his
head, he raised his quiet face to the evening star. “Brave and wise and
gentle,” he mused. “If I did not think to meet her again, beyond that
star, I could not smile and speak calmly, Ralph, as I do now.”
“'T is a strange thing,” I said, as I refilled my pipe. “Love for your
brother-in-arms, love for your commander if he be a commander worth
having, love for your horse and dog, I understand. But wedded love! to
tie a burden around one's neck because 't is pink and white, or clear
bronze, and shaped with elegance! Faugh!”
“Yet I came with half a mind to persuade thee to that very burden!” he
cried, with another laugh.
“Thanks for thy pains,” I said, blowing blue rings into the air.
“I have ridden to-day from Jamestown,” he went on. “I was the only
man, i' faith, that cared to leave its gates; and I met the world--the
bachelor world--flocking to them. Not a mile of the way but I
encountered Tom, Dick, and Harry, dressed in their Sunday bravery and
making full tilt for the city. And the boats upon the river! I have seen
the Thames less crowded.”
“There was more passing than usual,” I said; “but I was busy in the
fields, and did not attend. What's the lodestar?”
“The star that draws us all,--some to ruin, some to bliss ineffable,
woman.”
“Humph! The maids have come, then?”
He nodded. “There's a goodly ship down there, with a goodly lading.”
“Videlicet, some fourscore waiting damsels and milkmaids, warranted
honest by my Lord Warwick,” I muttered.
“This business hath been of Edwyn Sandys' management, as you very well
know,” he rejoined, with some heat. “His word is good: therefore I hold
them chaste. That they are fair I can testify, having seen them leave
the ship.”
“Fair and chaste,” I said, “but meanly born.”
“I grant you that,” he answered. “But after all, what of it? Beggars
must not be choosers. The land is new and must be peopled, nor will
those who come after us look too curiously into the lineage of those
to whom a nation owes its birth. What we in these plantations need is
a loosening of the bonds which tie us to home, to England, and a
tightening of those which bind us to this land in which we have cast our
lot. We put our hand to the plough, but we turn our heads and look
to our Egypt and its fleshpots. 'T is children and wife--be that wife
princess or peasant--that make home of a desert, that bind a man with
chains of gold to the country where they abide. Wherefore, when at
midday I met good Master Wickham rowing down from Henricus to Jamestown,
to offer his aid to Master Bucke in his press of business to-morrow, I
gave the good man Godspeed, and thought his a fruitful errand and one
pleasing to the Lord.”
“Amen,” I yawned. “I love the land, and call it home. My withers are
unwrung.”
He rose to his feet, and began to pace the greensward before the door.
My eyes followed his trim figure, richly though sombrely clad, then fell
with a sudden dissatisfaction upon my own stained and frayed apparel.
“Ralph,” he said presently, coming to a stand before me, “have you ever
an hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco in hand? If not, I”--
“I have the weed,” I replied. “What then?”
“Then at dawn drop down with the tide to the city, and secure for
thyself one of these same errant damsels.”
I stared at him, and then broke into laughter, in which, after a space
and unwillingly, he himself joined. When at length I wiped the water
from my eyes it was quite dark, the whippoorwills had begun to call, and
Rolfe must needs hasten on. I went with him down to the gate.
“Take my advice,--it is that of your friend,” he said, as he swung
himself into the saddle. He gathered up the reins and struck spurs into
his horse, then turned to call back to me: “Sleep upon my words, Ralph,
and the next time I come I look to see a farthingale behind thee!”
“Thou art as like to see one upon me,” I answered.
Nevertheless, when he had gone, and I climbed the bank and reentered the
house, it was with a strange pang at the cheerlessness of my hearth,
and an angry and unreasoning impatience at the lack of welcoming face or
voice. In God's name, who was there to welcome me? None but my hounds,
and the flying squirrel I had caught and tamed. Groping my way to the
corner, I took from my store two torches, lit them, and stuck them into
the holes pierced in the mantel shelf; then stood beneath the clear
flame, and looked with a sudden sick distaste upon the disorder which
the light betrayed. The fire was dead, and ashes and embers were
scattered upon the hearth; fragments of my last meal littered the table,
and upon the unwashed floor lay the bones I had thrown my dogs. Dirt
and confusion reigned; only upon my armor, my sword and gun, my hunting
knife and dagger, there was no spot or stain. I turned to gaze upon
them where they hung against the wall, and in my soul I hated the piping
times of peace, and longed for the camp fire and the call to arms.
With an impatient sigh, I swept the litter from the table, and,
taking from the shelf that held my meagre library a bundle of Master
Shakespeare's plays (gathered for me by Rolfe when he was last in
London), I began to read; but my thoughts wandered, and the tale seemed
dull and oft told. I tossed it aside, and, taking dice from my pocket,
began to throw. As I cast the bits of bone, idly, and scarce caring to
observe what numbers came uppermost, I had a vision of the forester's
hut at home, where, when I was a boy, in the days before I ran away to
the wars in the Low Countries, I had spent many a happy hour. Again I
saw the bright light of the fire reflected in each well-scrubbed crock
and pannikin; again I heard the cheerful hum of the wheel; again the
face of the forester's daughter smiled upon me. The old gray manor
house, where my mother, a stately dame, sat ever at her tapestry, and an
imperious elder brother strode to and fro among his hounds, seemed less
of home to me than did that tiny, friendly hut. To-morrow would be my
thirty-sixth birthday. All the numbers that I cast were high. “If I
throw ambs-ace,” I said, with a smile for my own caprice, “curse me if I
do not take Rolfe's advice!”
I shook the box and clapped it down upon the table, then lifted it,
and stared with a lengthening face at what it had hidden; which done, I
diced no more, but put out my lights and went soberly to bed.