My good comrade, Dick Portington, was the first of our guests to arrive
at Temple on the 28th of May, and he brought me as birthday gift a gun
such as I had not before seen, the cock containing a flint, which, as
it fell, struck sparks from the cover of the pan, and at the same
moment forced back the cover so that the sparks flew on the priming.
The action was far quicker than that of the matchlock, and much surer
than the wheel-lock guns which I had hitherto handled, and I had great
pleasure in it, and a brace of pistols made after the same pattern.
"'Tis the rarest present, Dick," I said, "but you shame me. Another
gift! And I have never given you anything."
"Say nothing of that, man," answered he. "I am older than thou, and
the squire is free with his money. I have what I want for the asking.
Besides, to-day you come to riches, and may spend and give as you like."
Dick's allusion was to an understanding between my father and me, that
when I came of age certain properties in Beltoft, which were part of my
mother's dower, should be made over to me. I had freely spoken of this
to my friend, and in truth, looked forward eagerly to the enjoyment of
means of my own, for my father had allowed me less money than men of
his rank were accustomed to allow their sons. He was no niggard in
providing me things suitable to our station, but I had never much money
in my purse, so that I held aloof from companionship with other young
fellows except Dick, who knew my plight, and often listened to my talk
of the brave doings which were to follow my possession of an estate of
some ninety pounds a year. To-day we had scant opportunity for
conversation, as our humbler neighbours came early, with full intent to
enjoy merry pastimes and good cheer; nor were the gentry and farmers
late, since all were keenly expectant of news and advice from their
"Solicitor." Ladies and gentlemen on horseback, a few ladies who
preferred dignity in a jolting coach to ease in the saddle, farmers'
wives on pillion behind their husbands, labourers, marshmen, and
fowlers, with their women-folk, afoot, made the spacious park a lively
scene. Our stables were soon filled, and many horses had to be
tethered in the paddock. By good luck, the day was cloudless, and the
wind soft, almost still.
Our guests betook them to various sports until dinner-time. The great
bowling-green was crowded with jostling, laughing bowlers; the archery
ground afforded amusement to many competitors, for our Islonians are
skilful in the use of the long-bow and cross-bow; parties were gathered
for cricket, balloon, quoits, nine-pins, and leaping the bar. Some of
the lads and lasses began at once to trip it to fiddle and pipe and
tabour. Many of the older folk were content to stand or sit and watch
a set of morris dancers, or filled the booth where a company of
strolling players performed a blood-curdling tragedy and a
side-splitting farce well within the hour. A group surrounded Bet
Boswell, a gypsy lass, whom our Beltonians knew from the long stay
which her tribe had made with us, and more than one young farmer had
fallen over head and ears in love with her. She was a tall, lithe
creature, boldly handsome, with that roguish look in her dark eyes
which passes away with the coming of Love. To-day she told fortunes by
the palm and with the crystal. As Dick and I joined the group, the
moonstruck gaping of some of the rustics proved that Bet was doing her
business skilfully.
"Here be young squire," said one. "Tell him his fortune."
The rest echoed the fellow, and falling in with their humour, I said--
"Come then, Bess. Let me hear my fate;" offering her sixpence.
"Not now," she answered, refusing the coin with a wave of her hand.
"Your destiny trembles in the balance to-day."
"How so, oracular sybil?" I asked, laughing, but a little impressed by
the gravity of her look and tone.
"Before you sleep, you will lose a fortune, and be offered another,"
she said.
"How I can lose what I have not, I do not understand," I replied; "but
of a certainty I shall take one, if it be offered me."
"If you are wise, you will," said Bess, and turned from me as having no
more to say.
At the instant, the ringing of a bell and blowing of a horn called
those of our guests to dinner who were to take their repast under tents
and awnings in the park, and I joined my father to make the round of
the tables, where huge joints of beef and mutton, piles of Trent salmon
and larded capons, and the like substantial viands, were rapidly
disappearing, washed down with copious draughts of strong October, to
which were added for the yeomen farmers brandy, wine, mead, and aqua
vitae.
When we had seen that all were faring merrily, and had nodded and
smiled acknowledgment of the cheers for "the Solicitor," and for "the
heir of Temple Belwood," we joined the company assembling in the hall,
and thence with proper ceremony to the ancient dining-room. There the
talk ran on Vermuijden and his doings much more than on the rightful
hero of the day, and voices rose and tongues wagged faster and faster
as the men's glasses were replenished with wine of Burgundy, or
Bourdeaux, or Champaign, and the women sipped hock and Bacharach and
sherris.
My left-hand neighbour at table was Mistress Emma Ryther, a buxom girl,
with great ox-eyes that never changed. She was accounted one of the
beauties of the Isle, and indeed as a piece of flesh and blood she was
pretty enough. I scarcely knew whether I liked or misliked her, for
her manner to me seemed to betoken that she expected me to whistle, and
was ready to come. Perhaps there would have been no more than a
toss-up between liking and misliking, since I had that conceit in my
head, if I had never seen the divine beauty which shines from the soul.
Having seen that, Mistress Ryther was to me but a well-painted figure
in porcelain. While she babbled nothings to me, I wondered that I
could ever have thought otherwise of her than I did to-day. Some
perception of my state of mind she showed by saying tartly: "Your head
is as full of the Dutch as everybody's."
When dessert was spread, to my astonishment, Mr. Ryther rose to propose
the toast of the day. He was not an old friend, or a person of
consideration. Some dozen years ago he had been so lucky as to inherit
unexpected wealth, and ever since he had devoted himself to increasing
his riches, chiefly by lending money on mortgage, and taking every
legal advantage of the necessitous borrower. He was a biggish fellow,
with a loud voice and pompous manner, and a great hooked nose, which my
fingers itched to pull for his impudence. My impatience grew as he
went on to speak, lauding my father's public spirit and generosity,
taking a tone as if he were the equal of Thomas Vavasour. When he
began to talk of me my blood boiled, for he enumerated my good points
as though I had been a horse, and he had the selling of me. He wound
up by saying that he looked forward to the festivities to come, when
the heir of Temple Belwood should bring a beautiful and well-dowered
bride to this ancient house. I could have hurled a decanter at the
greasy forehead, which he wiped with infinite complacency. I stammered
through as much as I could remember of the little speech which I had
conned for the occasion, saying as little as might be of the proposer.
The ladies withdrew, and the real business of the day began. My father
rose to give an account of his proceedings in London, which need not be
set down here, as I have put it on record elsewhere. He ended by
saying: "The highest court of law in this country has given judgment
against Vermuijden, but he continues his illegal action. Persons near
to his Majesty have assured the Dutchman of royal protection, and dare
to set the King's prerogative above the law. That assertion of
prerogative is baseless, and I confidently expect that it will be soon
withdrawn. Parliament is at this moment, as you know, taking steps to
remove an injurious adviser from the position of authority which he has
shamelessly abused. On the removal of the Duke of Buckingham from the
counsels of his Majesty, there will doubtless be a change of policy on
the part of a nobleman, our neighbour, who has hitherto upheld the
Dutchmen in their invasion of our Isle, and the law will prevail. We
must not forget that Vermuijden believes that he is in his right, nor
that he has paid a very large sum of money for his supposed rights in
our soil. We must proceed with strict legality, or we shall put
ourselves in the wrong. Allow me to make a personal appeal to every
gentleman in this room. I have given my time and, strength and means
freely to your service, and I beg that my efforts may not be frustrated
by resort to violence of any kind. Let us adhere to the lawful course,
and we shall most assuredly be successful in the end."
As my father sat down there was some applause, and a few gentlemen
shouted, "Long life to our Solicitor;" but murmurs were heard in
several quarters, and Squire Portington, of Thorne, rose to speak.
"Gentlemen," said he, "law and order are all very well, but what about
our property? A hundred acres of my best land is under water now
through the tomfoolery of these damned Dutchmen. If they go on,
they'll drown me and my nearest neighbours out and out. Mighty small
consolation it will be to us, if some fine day this Vermuijden has to
bow to the law. That won't give us back our farms and our houses. The
Law is on our side, but force has the upper hand of the Law. As for
Parliament making an end of Buckingham, for anything I can see, he is
just as likely to make an end of Parliament. Do you know that the
Dutchman swears he has full power to hang anybody who resists him, and
has set up a gallows at Sandtoft? It is a fact, gentlemen. We have
tasted Prerogative in demand for money which Parliament refused to
vote. Prerogative means----"
The gentlemen on either side of Squire Portington dragged him down to
his seat, but the squire shook himself free, and got on his legs again.
"My neighbours here are afraid that I shall be brought before the
Council of the North for talking treason, and bring them into trouble
for listening to it. I didn't suppose that there were any damned spies
and informers here. I was saying that the law can't do anything to
save us from ruin. So much the worse for the law. But I'm not going
to sit quiet while the Dutchmen drown my land and me. My motto is
'Liberty and Property.' If the gentlemen here, or half of 'em, will
join me, we'll send Vermuijden three days' notice to quit our land. Of
course, he won't take it, but that's his affair. After the three days
have expired, we'll go with five hundred stout fellows, and drive the
beggars out, kill every man who resists, hang Vermuijden on his own
gallows, and sweep the Isle clean of the invaders. That's my way. We
will talk of law and order when we have made sure of our liberty and
property."
All the young men present, and a number of their elders, rose to their
feet, and shouted, "That's sense! Liberty and property! Three Cheers
for Squire Portington! Send the Dutchmen to the devil! Hang
Vermuijden on his own gallows! There's Scripture for it. Hurrah!"
These and similar cries made a deafening hubbub. Filled with wine, and
stirred by Portington's harangue, our guests forgot decorum entirely,
and made such a tumult as encouraged the common sort to crowd about the
doorway, and add their voices to the cheers for "Liberty and Property"
and the cry of "Down with the Dutch."
Conspicuous among the intruders was Boswell, the father of the girl
above mentioned, a notorious poacher, and worse. He had edged far into
the room and struck me as being all eyes and ears. I sprang to my
feet, and bade the rabble clear out, which they did pretty quickly. My
father seized the opportunity afforded by the slight lull which
followed to dissuade his friends from violence; declaring that if there
was not good prospect of remedy by lawful means within three months, he
himself would lead in defence of our just and legal rights by the
strong hand.
The pledge was hailed with loud shouts of approval and the draining of
many glasses in his honour; but there ensued a great buzz of talk,
during which men left their seats to be within earshot of this or that
speaker, so that the company broke up into separate knots, some
listening to the one they took for an oracle, others talking all at
once, and hearkening only to the sound of their own voices. There was
an end of all orderly counsel for that time.
Late in the evening, when the festivities were over, and the guests
departed, my father explained that the reason why he had not handed me
the deeds of the Beltoft land was that he had been compelled to
mortgage it, owing to his outlay in defence of the rights of the Isle
Commoners. I answered that I thought it hard my little property should
have been chosen to bear the costs of litigation; some other portion of
the estate might have borne them. Whereupon my father amazed and
confounded me by saying that more than half the lands of Temple Belwood
were already mortgaged. For some time I was dumb with astonishment,
and stood staring. At length I burst out--
"Why should our estate bear all the cost of these proceedings? Surely
every Commoner ought to pay his share."
"Thou art somewhat hasty, Frank," my father replied, "to call Temple
Belwood _our_ estate. If I chose to spend in defence of the rights of
the Islonians, my son has no authority to call me to account."
"Is it your pleasure," I asked, "that I should go to the plough-tail
to-morrow?"
"Don't talk like a fool, boy."
"I became a man to-day, sir."
"Discretion limps behind old Father Time, it seems."
I suppressed the easy retort, and my father continued--
"If you have not your father's public mind, I am sorry; but your
private interests are safe enough, and Temple Belwood will be yours
without encumbrance on a single acre."
Again I was amazed and mute.
"Ryther is engaged to return the deeds to you on the day you wed his
daughter."
Now I understood mysteries; Ryther's insolence at dinner, for one, and
his daughter's manner, for another. My father had squandered money in
a business which was no more his than that of any gentleman in the
Isle, assured that all damage to the estate would be repaired by this
absurd covenant of marriage. The Vavasour patrimony was lost, and all
the ceremony and merrymaking of the day had been in honour of the heir
of--Nothing.
The state of things was maddening and yet laughable, and laughter would
have its way. I shook with it.
"What in the world is there to laugh at?" shouted my father.
"God knows, I don't," I answered, still laughing.
It was my father's turn to be astonished. He gazed doubtfully at me
until my fit was over. Then he said--
"You have taken too much wine. We will speak of this business when
sleep has sobered you." And he went off to bed.
I was coward enough to be glad of the respite, foreseeing that my
father's grief and anger would be hard to bear, when he knew that I
would wed no woman on earth but Anna Goel.