Brilliana and the Cavaliers, stirred by the enthusiasm of Halfman's
stanza, caught up the cry commanded and sent it rolling through the
hall.
"Vive le Roy! God bless the King!" they shouted, with the loyal tears
in their eyes. Brilliana gave Halfman a grateful smile.
"Well sung, well done," she approved. Halfman glowed. Sir Rufus
frowned a little. Turning hurriedly to his companions, he said:
"Friends, I have another toast for you. I give you the King's sweet
warrior, Oxfordshire's blithe viceroy, 'The Lady of Loyalty House.'"
"Never a better toast in the world," Halfman shouted. "Drink,
gallants, drink."
Brilliana crossed her fingers before her face. Through the living
lattice her eyes peeped brightly.
"I protest you make too much of me," she pleaded, while Halfman and
the Cavaliers quickly filled their glasses again and lifted them
high in air. A chorus of "The Lady of Loyalty House!" rang out, and
again the toast was honored.
"I thank you with all my heart," Brilliana panted, blushing and
excited at the tumult and the praise. There was a moment's silence.
Everything worth saying seemed to have been said, everything worth
doing to have been done. Suddenly, in that silence, Bardon caught
sight of Evander where he stood apart, disdainful, between his
guards, and the sight pricked his wits. Turning to his mates, he
thumbed at the prisoner over his shoulder.
"Should we not make the crop-ear yonder pledge the Lady of Loyalty
House?" he questioned. Radlett rubbed approving hands.
"Well thought. Let him honor his conqueror," he began. The Lord
Fawley tripped him up with a new proposal.
"Stop, stop; not so fast," he protested. "The fellow has not pledged
the King yet. Let him drink the King's health first and be damned to
him."
The others applauded, but Ingrow, noting a certain sterner tightening
of Evander's mouth, interrupted.
"I'll wager he will not drink," he said, looking maliciously from the
flushed faces of the Cavaliers to the pale face of the Puritan.
Rufus's temper blazed instantly.
"Will not drink, say you!" he cried. "This mewcant shall pledge at
our pleasure or taste our displeasure."
He strode to the table, filled a cup of wine, and set it down on the
corner nearest to Evander.
"Come, you Roundpoll," he continued--"come, you Geneva mumbler, here
is a cup for you to wash down the dust of your dry thoughts. Drink, I
give you 'The King.'"
Evander gazed steadfastly at the irate gentleman and made no motion
to take the wine. Brilliana, from where she stood, watching him
curiously, wrestled with a reluctant admiration of his carriage.
Ingrow commented, smoothly, maliciously:
"You see, the gentleman does not drink."
Ingrow's words fanned the Cavalier fire.
"Damn him for a disloyal rat!" Radlett shouted. Halfman elbowed his
way past him and addressed Rufus.
"Sweet Sir Rufus," he said, "I have lived in places where a little
persuasion has often led folk to act much against their personal
inclinations and desires. Out swords and force the toast."
As he spoke he drew his sword with his best Mercutio manner, and the
suggestion and the naked steel carried contagion. Every gentleman
unsheathed his sword; all advanced upon Evander, a line of shining
points.
"Bait him, bait him!" Bardon shouted.