Halfman proved himself a creditable henchman. There was much to do
and little time to do it in, for any hour might bring news that the
enemy was near at hand. Brilliana, as he told her and as she knew,
would have done well without him, once she had warning of danger,
but, as she told him and as he knew, she did very much better with
him. There was no help to be had in the neighborhood, but by
Halfman's advice a message was trusted to a sure hand to be carried
to Sir Randolph Harby, of Harby Lesser, now with the King, telling
him of what was threatened. All the servants were assembled in the
great hall, and there Brilliana made them a stirring little speech,
to which Halfman listened with applauding pulses. She told them how
Harby was menaced; she told them what she meant to do. She and
Captain Halfman meant to hold the place for the King so long as there
was a place to hold. But she would constrain none to stay with her,
and she offered to all who pleased the choice to go down into the
village and bide there till the business was ended one way or the
other. Not a man of the little household, nor a woman, offered to
budge. Perhaps they did not care very much about the quarrel, but
they all loved very dearly their wild, high-spirited young mistress,
and it was "God save Brilliana!" they were thinking while they
shouted "God save the King!"
This was how it came to pass that when the hundred men from
Cambridge, under the command of Captain Evander Cloud, made an end of
their forced march, they found the iron gates of Harby's park closed
against them. This was in itself a matter of little moment, needing
but the united efforts of half a dozen stout fellows to arrange. But
it was the hint significant of more to follow. The Puritan party
tramping through the park was greeted, as it neared the moat, with a
volley, purposely aimed high, which brought them to a halt. The
Puritans eyed grimly a place whose great natural strength had been
most ingeniously increased by skilful fortification, and while their
leader advanced alone and composedly across the space between the
invaders and the walls of Harby, the followers were bale to note how
all the windows were barricaded and loop-holed, and how full of
menace the ancient place appeared.
Evander Cloud advanced across the grass until he was within a few
feet of the moat. Then an upper window was thrown open, its wooden
curtain removed, and a young, fair woman appeared at the opening and
quietly asked of the Puritan the meaning of his presence.
Evander Cloud saluted the lady; he could see that she was young and
comely. His own face was in shadow and the chatelaine could not
distinguish its features.
"Have I the honor to address the Lady Brilliana Harby?" he asked.
"I am the Lady Brilliana Harby," the girl answered. "What is your
business here?"
"I come, madam," Evander replied, "a servant of the Parliament and of
the English people, to safeguard this mansion in their name."
"You may speak for the London Parliament," Brilliana said, firmly,
"but I think you are too bold to speak in the name of the English
people. As for this poor house, it can safeguard itself very well,
with the help of God."
"Madam," responded Evander, "I am empowered to take by force what I
would gladly gain by parley."
"This house is the King's house," Brilliana said, scornfully, "and
does not yield to thieves."
"It is the King's evil advisers who have forced civil war upon the
land," Evander replied, gravely. "And it is in the King's name and
for the King's sake that we would secure this stronghold."
"Ay," retorted Brilliana, derisively. "And do the King honor by
hauling down the King's flag. No more words. This is Loyalty House.
You have ten minutes in which to withdraw your men. At the end of
that time we shall fire again, and you will find that we can shoot
straight. And so you may go to the devil."
Evander would have appealed anew, but with her last word Brilliana
disappeared from the window, which in another moment was barricaded
as stubbornly as before.
And this was the beginning of the siege of Harby House.
Mr. Samuel Marfleet, in his "Diurnal of certain events of moment
happening of late at Harby," is very eloquent over the coming of the
little company. He sees in them the deliverers from Dagon, the
destroyers of Babylon, and in sundry heated if confused allusions to
the worship of Ashtaroth, it seems certain that the indignant
school-master was vehemently protesting against the popularity of
Brilliana. He probably goes too far, however, when he interprets the
silence of Harby villagers as the Cambridge company marched through
the main street as the silence too great for speech of a liberated
people. Harby villagers were, for the most part, serenely indifferent
to the quarrels of the court and the Parliament, but they had a
hearty liking for Brilliana, and would, if they could, very likely
have shown active resentment at the attack upon her home. But with
nobody to lead them, there was nothing for them to do but to stare at
the grave-faced men in sober clothes with guns upon their shoulders
and steel upon their breasts who tramped along towards Harby Hall.
Even to the siege itself they were perforce indifferent, seeing very
little of it, for the parliamentary leader took care that none of
them came into Harby park, and did not, as we may gather from
occasional asperities in the "Diurnal," greatly encourage even the
visits of Mr. Marfleet himself.
The full chronicle of that siege does not concern us here. Those that
are curious in the matter may seek for ampler information, if they
will, in the Marfleet "Diurnal." Thanks to its situation, thanks to
the experience of adventurer Halfman in barricading windows and so
loop-holing them for musketry as fully to command the moat on all
sides, Harby Hall proved a hard nut to crack. It was but child's
play, indeed, if you chose to compare it with the later leaguer of
Lathom, but to those immediately concerned, and to Harby village, all
open mouths and open eyes, the business was a very Iliad. There was a
great deal of powder burned and but little blood shed. The little
Parliament party soon learned that there was no taking the place by a
rush or a ruse, that it was discretion to keep due distance and
invest. For the besieged, on the other hand, there was no chance of a
sortie, their numbers being so few and their provisions were sorely
scarce. If no one could for the moment get into Harby, neither could
any one get out of Harby.
So day succeeded day, and Halfman found them all enchanted days. He
was inevitably much in the company of the lady, and he played the
part of an honest gentleman ably. He made the most of his odd
scholarship, of that part of his knowledge of the world best likely
to commend him to the favor of a gentlewoman; his buccaneering
enterprises veiled themselves under the vague phrase of foreign
service. He had been in tight places a thousand times; he weighed
them as trifles against a chance to win money and the living toys
that money can buy. But it was new to him to hold a fort under the
command of a woman, and the woman herself was the newest, strangest
thing he had ever known. Ever the lover of his abandoned art, he
conceived shrewdly enough the character that would not displease
Brilliana and played it very consistently: the soldier of fortune
true, but one that had tincture of letters and would be a scholar if
he could. So the siege hours were also hours of such companionship as
he had never experienced, ever desired; he ripened in the sunshine of
a girl's kindliness, and he deliberately tied, as it were, the foul
pages of his book of memory together with the pink ribbon of a girl's
garter. He would have been content for the siege to last forever. But
the siege did not last forever.
V