Brilliana turned to Evander.
"Well, Captain Puritan, are you displeased with me?"
Evander disclaimed such thought.
"Why should I be displeased that you, a King's woman, serve the
King?"
Brilliana was pertinacious.
"If you were a King's man would you applaud me?"
"If I were a King's man," Evander confessed, "I could not choose but
applaud you."
"But being a Puritan?" Brilliana persisted.
"Why," said Evander, "being a Puritan, I must ask you, were you just
to your victims?"
Brilliana swept them away disdainfully.
"Each would have cheated the King in an hour, when, to all who think
with me, to cheat the King is little better than to cheat God. But
your scrupulosity need not shiver. If the King do not knight my
misers I will requite them, little as they deserve it."
Evander admired her.
"You are a brave lady."
Brilliana gave a sigh.
"No, I am not brave at all; I am newly very timid. I am frightened of
the real world now, and feel only at my ease with shadows."
"Shall we journey into shadow-land?" Evander asked.
"By what path?" Brilliana questioned. Evander touched a brown, torn
book.
"Shall we read again in Master Shakespeare's book?"
For indeed they had read much in his pages that morning. Brilliana
looked pleased.
"Yes, indeed. Let us go into my paradise."
She looked into the garden and came back with a shiver.
"Ah, no, it is raining. It rained when the King raised his standard
at Nottingham. Well, well, we can read here."
Evander was turning the leaves.
"What shall we read? Comedy, history, tragedy?"
Brilliana was for the solemn mask.
"Let it be tragedy. I have laughed so much this morning that my mind
turns to melancholy."
Evander looked up at her with his finger on a page.
"Shall we read 'Romeo and Juliet'?"
"I know that play by root of heart," Brilliana said.
"Truly, so do I," said Evander.
Brilliana was silent, pensive, a finger on her lip, considering some
project. Then she said, doubtfully:
"You spoke the other day of women players, a thing that seemed to me
incredible. Shall we see how it would seem here for us two? Let us
while away a wet morning by playing a stage play."
Evander's heart leaped.
"With you for the sweet scene in the garden," he cried.
In a moment Brilliana was busy in the setting of her scene. She
pulled round a heavy, high-backed chair and leaped into it, leaning
over the back and looking up as if the painted ceiling glowed with
the stars of an Italian night. Then the words flowed from her, the
wonderful words:
"'O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name:
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.'"
Evander said his line a little stiffly; he was awkward, being a man.
"'Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?'"
Brilliana flowed on:
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy:
Thou art thyself though not a Montague.
What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm nor face. O be some other name
Belonging to a man.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title.--Romeo, doff thy name;
And for thy name which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.'"
Evander put heart now into his part as he moved towards her.
"'I take thee at thy word.
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.'"
Brilliana affected to peer into the darkness of a green garden.
"'What man art thou, that thus bescreened in night,
So stumblest on my counsel?'"
Evander answered, very earnest now:
"'By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee:
Had I it written, I would tear the word.'"
Brilliana's voice faltered as she took up the tale.
"'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?'"
Evander was quite near now to the chair and the fair maid perched
upon it, and the words trembled on his lips.
"'Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.'"
He put out his hands and caught hers for a moment. Then she drew them
free and jumped down. She went to the open space and looked into the
wet garden with a hand to her head and a hand to her heart. Evander
followed her.
"Ah, me," she said, "love was a heady god in Verona. Here in England
he could not solder such hostilities."
Evander answered her passionately.
"Here in England love is a more glorious god yet, for he can fling a
Puritan soldier at the feet of a Cavalier lady."
Brilliana still stared straight before her.
"We have drifted from the land of shadows."
Evander spoke from his heart.
"We have drifted into reality. I love you. I cannot change my faith
for that, I cannot change my flag. But believe this, remember this,
that in the Parliament's army one Puritan is as true your lover as
all the Cavaliers who worship you."
Brilliana turned and looked at him now, very steadfastly:
"You do not speak by the book."
"No, only by my heart," Evander answered, simply. "I tell you my
soul's truth. I love you, I shall love you to the end, whether the
end come in a battle on a windy heath, or in an oblong box of a bed."
Brilliana's eyes were bright and kind.
"You do not know what you are saying. I do not know what you are
saying. The world would have to change before I could listen with
patience to words of love on the lips of a rebel."
Evander answered her bravely.
"I know that. I did not hope; but I had to set my soul free. To the
end of ends I shall cherish you, live for you, die for you: very
lonely, well content."
Brilliana turned away. The heart of Juliet within her was big almost
to breaking.
"The rain ceases; I must go into the air."
Even as she spoke, the door opened and Tiffany ran in.
"My lady!" she cried; "my lady, John Thoroughgood rides up the avenue
on a foundering horse!"
Brilliana gave a great cry and went ghost-white.
"Dear God, the letter! I had forgotten the letter!"
Tiffany slipped from the room. Evander answered Brilliana's cry very
calmly.
"For the second, so had I. But, indeed, dear lady and friend, I know
its terms."
"You cannot be sure," Brilliana whispered.
"I am sure," Evander replied. "I know Colonel Cromwell."
The door opened again and Thoroughgood entered, splashed with mud and
carrying a letter in his hand.
"My lady," said Thoroughgood, "I have ridden hard and long to find
the rebels. I have killed two horses; I had to wait on Colonel
Cromwell's leisure; I was fired at thrice as I rode. At long last
and through many perils here is the letter."
"I thank you," Brilliana said. "You are a faithful servant. Seek wine
and food and rest."
Thoroughgood saluted her and went out. He looked fagged to
exhaustion. In the passage he found Tiffany, kissing-kind. Brilliana
opened the letter and read it slowly. Then she gave a cry.
"Pray you read, lady," Evander said, composedly. Brilliana complied
in a hard, set voice.
"MADAM,--The prisoner with whom you claim kinship was
sentenced to be shot as a spy this morning. My loving
greetings to my very dear friend, Mr. Cloud, who, if you
chose enough to murder him, will, I know, meet death as a
Christian soldier should.
"OLIVER CROMWELL."
"The wicked villain," Brilliana cried.
"Nay, lady," Evander argued tranquilly--he must carry himself well
now--"the true captain doing his duty. It hath cost him a pang to
sacrifice me; he would have sacrificed his son Henry or his son
Richard in the like case."
Brilliana clasped and unclasped her hands.
"I care nothing for his son Henry or his son Richard."
"You care nothing for me?" Evander affirmed, slowly.
"I do care," she said, hotly. "We have broken bread together, played
games together, masked at friendship till the sport became reality."
"Lady," said Evander, "I thank you for the kindness you imply. Our
friendship has been brief, but passing sweet. I shall die on a divine
memory."
"Why, sir," she gasped, "you do not think I could kill you now?"
"You vowed I should die if your cousin died," he reminded her. "I
think you must keep your word. It is the fortune of war."
"The fortune of war!" Brilliana gave a bitter laugh. "I would not
have you die to save--Oh, I must not say--but fly, sir, fly! Ride hot
and hard to Cambridge, where you will be safe. You shall have the
best horse in my stable. You are my prisoner. I give you back your
parole. Only, for God's sake, go! My friends would kill you if they
caught you here."
Evander begged a boon.
"May I kiss your hand before I go?"
Brilliana tried to smile.
"A Cavalier would not have asked."
"I am Puritan, ingrain," he asserted.
"You are a dear gentleman."
She sighed and held out her hand. As he stooped to salute it the door
was dashed open and a man booted and spurred flung into the room. As
he stood for a moment amazed at what he saw, Brilliana, turning,
recognized Sir Rufus Quaryll. She disengaged her hand from Evander's
and moved a little towards him. Evander instinctively felt for his
sword. Sir Rufus's face was a great blaze of red.
"In the devil's name, what does this mean?" he shouted.
Brilliana drew herself up.
"You forget yourself," she said, haughtily. Rufus barked at her with
rage.
"You have forgotten yourself; in the arms of a doomed traitor."
"Civil words, sir!" Evander cried, moving on him. Brilliana motioned
him to hold back.
"This gentleman is no traitor."
An open letter lay at Rufus's feet. He pounced on it and read. He was
pale now, the white heat of anger.
"Gentleman! Oh, I know much, guess all. Randolph is dead there
yonder, and this rogue, who should be dead and ditched here, lives.
Faugh! But he dies now."
On the word he had drawn his sword and advanced upon Evander, whose
own sword was no less swiftly out. Brilliana came between the two
men.
"If you kill him, you kill me," she said.
"By God, you deserve to die!" was Rufus's answer.
In the headiness of their brawl none of the party had noticed how the
door had opened again and how a man stood at gaze in the doorway. A
slender man of middle height, in travel-stained riding-habit of
black; a man with a comely, melancholy face and sad eyes; a man who
seemed very weary. He wore a jewelled George. For a moment the
new-comer stood unheeded, then he advanced into the room. Sir Rufus
heard him, turned, and cried, "The King!" Evander sent his sword back
into its sheath. Brilliana knelt in reverence. This was the hero,
almost the divinity, the monarch she worshipped, the sovereign she
had never seen.
"Gentlemen, what is this?" the King asked. He turned to Brilliana.
"Lady, why did you not come to greet me?"
Brilliana rose.
"Your Majesty--" she began, but Rufus interrupted her hotly.
"Forgiveness, sire. I dashed ahead to warn her of the great honor
you offered, halting here from Banbury, only to find her slobbering
on a Roundhead gallows-bird."
Brilliana looked steadfastly at the King. She was very pale but not
at all afraid.
"Your Majesty, this man slanders basely. This gentleman is
honorable."
"Honorable!" Rufus repeated, in derision.
"Silence, sir!" Charles commanded. "Who are you?" he asked of
Evander. Evander saluted.
"Captain Evander Cloud, of the Parliamentary army."
"How come you here?" the King inquired.
Brilliana answered for him.
"Your Majesty, he was taken prisoner treacherously, though the
treachery was mine, three days ago. I offered his life in exchange
for the life of Randolph Harby."
"And Randolph Harby is dead," said Rufus, "shot as a spy by the
devilish rebel of Cambridge. See, sire--see!"
He offered the letter to Charles, but the King put it from him. His
face was inscrutable as Evander urged his case.
"Your Majesty, I am no spy, and my life could not be pawned for a
spy's life."
Charles's sad eyes travelled to Brilliana.
"Randolph Harby was no spy," he said. "You held this gentleman
hostage for your cousin's life?"
"I did make that offer," Brilliana admitted. The King frowned now.
"And yet he still lives. I thought this was called Loyalty House."
"Disloyalty House it should be called now," Rufus taunted. Brilliana
turned upon him fiercely.
"You lie! you lie! you lie!" she hurled the words at him, hating him.
Charles held up his hand.
"Peace! This is not the welcome I expected here. We did not think to
find rebels tendered so delicately. Sir Rufus, we give you charge of
Harby and of this gentleman. We will consider his claim presently,
for we would deal honestly even with our enemies."
He looked at Evander.
"But we can give you little hope, sir. Prepare to die."
Fretfully he addressed Rufus.
"I am very weary. I must break my fast." He glanced coldly at
Brilliana.
"Lady, we shall not need your attendance."
Brilliana made her master a deep reverence.
"I take my leave, your Majesty." She went close to Evander.
"Can you forgive me?" she begged. Evander looked into her wet eyes
joyously.
"Read in my heart that I thank God to have known you, loved you."
Brilliana laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder and spoke in a
soft, even voice.
"You have been my enemy; you have been my friend; you are now the one
man in all the world for me. Read in my heart that I thank God to
have known you, that I thank God that I love you. Remember, I love
you, Evander. Farewell."
Then she saluted the King and went slowly out of the room without
looking back.